pocketramblr · 2 years ago
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This is random but i feel like i see u mention a bnha discord a lot and i was wondering if that was like open invite? Or i guess if u just know any open invite servers for any of the fandoms ur in?
It's not a bnha specific one but I've got a little server with like 20 people in it if you still want to join, sure. As for other servers, I know too many to list but most of my writer mutuals have their own bigger ones and those are pretty fun
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gojorgeous · 9 months ago
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"sure thing"
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pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k
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“Who?!” 
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 
“Yeah. Long day at work.” 
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 
“So, what’s your technique” 
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 
“Bet I could find out.” 
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines. 
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 
Fuck. 
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 
Your lips part. “You knew?” 
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 
But you have one thing on him. 
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 
You freeze. He notices. 
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
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baby-yongbok · 10 months ago
Text
What Are You Looking At?
Dom!Seungmin x Sub!Fem!Reader
-`♡´- Genre: Smut, some plot mostly porn
-`♡´- Summary: One question turned into an entire scene
-`♡´- Word Count: 3.9k
-`♡´- Warnings: Dominant/Submissive Dynamics, Hard Dom Seungmin and a bit of Dom Hyunjin, Choking, Slapping [for a second] , Degradation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Mentions of other members relationships, OT8 are involved, Previous consent implied, use of sex toys in public, Aftercare [Some on screen, more implied off screen] (Sorry If I missed any)
-`♡´- A/N: This was something that I've wanted to post for a while but I just never got around to editing it until now! I hope that you enjoy! And yes the reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡. This fic was 100% self-indulgent and contributed towards my Seungmin Brainrot
❥ Names Used Towards Reader: Slut, Pathetic, Pitiful, Whore
-`♡´- Masterlist -`♡´-
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It’s not everyday that your boyfriend invites you to be his date to an event, so when Seungmin invited you to attend one of the many events to promote the new album with him and his members, you excitedly accepted. It’s been a while since you’ve all gotten together and any day with all of the boys is more than entertaining so you found yourself getting more excited than usual for this event. 
Of course, Seungmin had one condition when he invited you, he had to pick out your entire outfit. It was a fairly upscale event so formal attire was the only appropriate choice. You knew the moment that he requested to pick out your outfit that you’d be matching your man, it’s something that he loves but will never admit. He loves when the two of you look like a couple and carry similar visual energies. 
Your outfits were fairly basic. He had a white dress shirt and black slacks with small more flashy designer elements incorporated into the outfit. For you, he picked out a black gown of the same brand that he was wearing. It’s his go to dress for you to wear at events when he wants you to be on everyone’s radar. When he wants the two of you to be eye-catching and wants every single person in the room to eye the dips and curves of your perfect plush figure.  
There was one condition to your outfit though, a dare of sorts. 
“Why are these here?” You asked as you looked over the outfit laid out on your bed. The soft black panties with the built in vibrator along the gusset were resting on top of your velvety black gown.
“Ah, right, I wanted to propose a little game for the night.” You eyed Seungmin through the bedroom mirror as he fiddled with the glossy buttons of his dress shirt. “ You wear those and let me control them throughout the night. If you hide it well you get to be in charge tonight.” 
Your face lights up at the sound of his offer. You’ve been begging him to let you dominate him in bed for months but he always turns you down.  
“If you make it too obvious or get caught in any way then I get to use you all night.” He turns to face you, slipping a hand into his pocket. “And I can use any toy that I please.”
You suck your teeth at him, he’s been itching to use the new spreader bar that he ordered a month ago since the day that it arrived. You weren’t sure about it when it got here and you still aren’t very sure about it now. Of course you think that it’ll be fun to use but you know Seungmin and you know just how rough he likes to be when you aren’t restricted by any toys or rope so you can only imagine how it’ll be when your legs are permanently spread open for him. You think for a second, trying to weigh your options but the thought of being able to be in charge of him for a night is way too tempting to pass up. 
“Deal.” You smile, holding out your pinky finger and he copies the action twisting his finger around yours and leaning in for a swift kiss. 
“Good luck, I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”
“Would it be so horrible to let me be in charge?” You scoff as you slip the panties on, aligning the vibrator to rest against your clit and folds comfortably. 
“Nah.” Just as you move to pick up your dress a deep vibration rumbles through your core and a gasp leaves your lips followed by a choked moan. You glare over at your boyfriend, his hand is in his pocket, most likely holding the tiny remote, and there’s a devious smirk resting on his lips while he watches you. “I just figured that if I’m gonna do it I should make you work for it.”
“You’re not gonna break me.” You roll your eyes as you push your thighs together, the vibrations stop abruptly and you let out a breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.
“You know that I love a challenge."
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You were more than excited when you saw all of the boys, but they seemed ten times more excited to see you. They updated you on everything that they could think of from games that they’ve started playing, songs that they started writing, and Hyunjin even let you get a sneak peak into his art folder on his phone. Of course, Seungmin decided to torture you in the most delicious way the entire time, but much to his dismay, you held your composure, even with him whispering pure filth into your ear all evening. You’ve been through your fair share of edging and teasing since dating Seungmin so a game like this was nothing compared to the countless times that you’ve begged and cried on his cock after being fucked for hours on end. He’s the type of dominant that takes pleasure in training his submissive and you’re the type of submissive that loves to do everything so perfectly that it’s almost infuriating, especially for someone like Seungmin who has a thing for taming brats.
“Can I have a coffee too?” You asked as you sat between Hyunjin and Changbin. Your boyfriend only glared at you as he stood from his seat and made his way over to the coffee machine to make himself a drink. You try your best to hide your smirk as you push your thighs together. He's being extra mean to you today and all of the guys have noticed it. They’ve all been extremely nice to you to make up for it but what they don’t know is that this is all a part of Seungmin’s game. He knows that you’re an absolute slut for degradation and that each nasty word and eyeroll is getting under your skin and sending a shock right to your clit but to the guys the two of you are just having a bad day. 
Changbin puts in his request right after you and follows by repeating your question but he’s met with silence just as you were a second ago. Instead of answering either of you, Seungmin starts talking to Jeongin about something that you’re barely paying any attention to as he makes everyone a drink except you, allegedly. 
You zone out as Changbin starts messing with Hyunjin, he’s teasing him about something random and the sound of them laughing registers as a distant echo as you take the time to admire just how good your man looks right now. You’ve seen Seungmin in more suits than you can count but there’s something about what he’s wearing tonight that has you in a choke hold. Maybe it's the perfect fit of his pressed dress shirt or the way the fabric of his dress pants stretches over his thighs. It could also be the fact that you’ve been edged by these damn vibrating panties for the past two and a half hours. You sat through an entire press conference as your boyfriend messed with the tiny remote in his pocket, watching you from the corner of his eye and stopping the vibration right when he saw your eyes roll back or noticed your balance become a bit unsteady. 
 You watch him as he takes out his phone and glances over at you for no more than a second before looking down at his screen. The micro interaction snaps you out of your daze and you pull your attention over to Changbin as you try your best to focus on anything else.
“You looked so cute on the stage, Hyunjinnie.” Changbin continues to tease the man next to you as he reaches behind you to pinch at his cheeks. Hyunjin moves away, dodging his hand and looking down at his phone, most likely to text his girlfriend who’s a close friend of yours. You smile to yourself since you’re the one who introduced them to each other and played cupid for a bit until they fell for each other.
“Binnie, he’s gonna keep ignoring you if you don’t -” You’re cut off by a loud gasp that catches Changbin off guard and startles Felix who’s sitting next to him. You clear your throat and shift in your seat a bit, trying your best to calm down as the vibrator buzzes against your core at its highest setting. Once you feel that you’ve settled a bit you glare over at your boyfriend with the calmest expression you can manage to keep. He stares back at you, matching your expression with a hint of a smirk on his face. 
"What are you looking at?" The slight smile on his face contradicts the bite in his voice and you find yourself pressing your plush thighs together again. The pressure against your clit pushes you closer to your orgasm but that’s the last thing that you want to do. You can’t cum here in front of all of his friends, not because it would be embarrassing, the two of you have talked about putting on a show for his friends for a long time and you’re more than into it, but if you cum right now in front of everyone you’ll lose the game. There’s no way that you’re losing this. 
"Seungmin, stop being so mean to her, what's up with you two?" Hyunjin tries to come to your defense, pushing his phone into his pocket and glaring at the younger member as you choke back a moan.
"She's a slut." His tone is flat like he’s speaking a well known fact.
"Hey, whoa why would you say that?" It's Changbin's turn to defend you, he sounds more than fed up with the attitude that your partner has had towards you today. Gosh, if only he knew the half of it.
"Because it's true, you're a slut aren't you?" Seungmin turns his attention towards you, taking a couple of steps forward and standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you hold back. He notices every slight raise of your eyebrows and the way that you lightly bite at your bottom lip, he knows that he’s winning. All movement in the room comes to a subtle stop as the members watch the situation unfold in front of them. You can hear the door open and close quickly and you assume that what was left of the staff decided to give you all some privacy, thank gosh.
"Seungmin, seriously, stop it." Chan speaks up as he makes his way to the side of the couch that you’re sitting on with Changbin and Hyunjin. Your boyfriend is way too invested in you to heed his warning, he’s way too focused on winning to care about what anyone else says. He rolls up his sleeves further before kneeling in front of you and grabbing your jaw harshly. 
“Look at me.” You swiftly fix your gaze on him, earning more of a smile from the dark haired man in front of you. You can hear Han, Jeongin and Minho protest the harsh action in your defense. They all turn their chairs to face the two of you and Changbin moves over a bit to give you some room between him and Hyunjin. 
“Seungmin seriously.” Chan protests again, putting his hand on the younger member's shoulder but he swiftly shrugs it off, never taking his eyes off of you. 
"Tell them." You whimper at his request as you bat your thick lashes at him. Your glassy doe eyes tell him everything that he needs to know, He’s studied every single part of you, every move and every sound. You’re trying so hard to keep it in but your sub space is setting in heavy especially with all of these eyes on you, it just turns you on ten times more. You’re a sucker for being a good girl for your man especially when there’s an audience.  
"I'm a slut." Your words come out in a gasp as a tear trails down your cheek. The vibration abusing your clit feels so much more intense as your vision becomes hazy and your body starts to feel like it’s floating. Seungmin’s fully smiling now, admiring how pretty you look in your headspace. Since you’ve slipped into yours it’s time for him to fully slip into his. He’s in full dominant mode now, he’s hyper vigilant, using his extensive knowledge of you to lead him through the scene. Han stands from his seat, looking over the younger man's shoulder, unsure of what to say. 
"Tell. Them. Now." A small yet firm slap to your cheek punctuates each word that comes out of his mouth and you can hear Felix’s deep voice start to protest before it’s cut off by a deep moan leaving your parted lips. It feels like the air in the room thickened as soon as the sound registered, you blink a couple of times as you try to think of a way to cover it up, maybe you can say that you’re just kidding, maybe you can say that it was all a filthy prank. Maybe you’ll just ignore Seungmin’s orders, you need to win this game, there’s no way that you can lose.
Your thoughts are racing at a hundred miles per hour, but the moment that your eyes meet your partner's brown ones again, you cave. You crack completely, slipping deep enough into your sub space to be at his mercy. You know that he’d never put you in an unsafe situation and you both have even spoken to the guys about letting them sit in on a scene between you and him some day, you just didn’t know that today would be the day, to be fair none of them did, not even Seungmin.
"What the fuck?" That’s all that he can manage to think of but instead of answering him Seungmin waves at him dismissively. 
"Shh you'll miss the best part." His eyes stay on yours as he watches you slip and even through your hazy state you don’t dare to break his gaze.
"Color?" Changbin furrows his brows at the question that leaves your boyfriend's lips and Hyunjin raises his. You mumble a weak ‘green’ and you can hear your boyfriend confirm your response faintly before you turn your attention back over to your rising orgasm.
"No fucking way." Hyunjin scoffs in disbelief, a surprised yet entertained smile on his face. 
"Looks like you got caught." Seungmin teases as he exchanges looks with Hyunjin, the only other open and proud dominant in the room. Since you introduced Hyunjin to your close friend who is now his girlfriend and submissive, he and Seungmin have often talked about having semi-public scenes with their partners in front of the other members. Hyunjin swore that he'd be the first to do it but it looks like Seungmin beat him to it. 
"Pathetic isn't she?" Seungmin asks towards Hyunjin and he clicks his tongue in response. 
"Absolutely pitiful." 
"Why the fuck are you guys doing that? She's fucking crying for Christ's sake." Minho makes his way over to stand next to Chan and at this point there's an entire circle around the two of you. Hyunjin watches you with curious eyes and an amused grin as you press your plush thighs together which truly isn’t helping the violent pulsing of your clit against your panties. 
Seungmin watches you too, keeping note of your reaction and searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's sure that you’re fine he lets go of his grip on your jaw and you whine at the loss of contact. You’re way too far gone to care about how you look or sound now, all that you know is that you're absolutely desperate for release and you’ll do anything to get it.
"You guys don't believe that she's a slut?" The room is quiet in response to Seungmin's question as they all watch her. Now they're catching on. "Watch."
Seungmin's hand cages your neck swiftly, pinning you against the curved back of the couch. His grip is light at first as he only applies a soft amount of pressure to the sides of your throat but you can feel his grip gradually become more intense with each passing second and you can’t help the whining moans that escape you as you fight the urge to rut your hips into the air as your dripping pussy clenches around nothing. 
"Seungmin, what the -'' Changbin is cut off by a loud whiny moan escaping you once Seungmin hits the pressure that you go dumb for. You lose your self control almost instantly and give into your horny desire to rut your hips into the air, desperate for any type of friction. 
"Such a whore. You want to cum?" You shake your head as best you can with whines falling from your lips uncontrollably. "Hyunjin, countdown from five."
"I'd love to." Hyunjin, turns more towards the two of you to get a clear look at the desperation on your face with each number that passes.
 "Five” He waits for a couple of seconds too long, clearly teasing you. Your friend did say that he could be a tease. You just wish that you weren’t finding that out right now. “Four...Three.”
He rests his chin in his palm, pretending to be bored with the task despite the smirk on his face “Three and a half....Two....hm where was I?"
Seungmin chuckles at your frustrated whine as Hyunjin fake pouts towards the two of you.
"Better start over to be sure." 
"I think you're right, let's see." Hyunjin takes a deep breath and you can’t help but to let out a deep desperate cry as tears flow down your cheeks. You’ve been holding back for so long that it feels like every inch of your body is on fire. You know the rules: If you cum without permission you get punished. Seungmin’s punishments are anything but fun. He has a talent for coming up with the most grueling punishments that could ever cross a dominants mind. You’ve learned to love them in a strange way but you’ve already lost the game, you don’t want to give him more to look forward to tonight. 
"So pretty when you cry" Seungmin smirks at Hyunjin’s comment while the others around them simply watch in aroused confusion. They haven't taken their eyes off of you since the beginning and they wouldn’t dream of even blinking now.  
"Alright so let’s do it nice and slow this time. One, Two, Three.”
“Three and a half.” He pauses, closing his eyes to ‘think’ for a second “Four....Four and a half.... Hmm.”
“What's after that?" Seungmin teases in mock confusion and Hyunjin shrugs as he looks around at the other members who now seem more than entertained by the game the two are playing.
"Mm, I don't remember. Do you remember, Felix?" Hyunjin asks the blonde sitting next to Changbin as he shifts his gaze fully towards you so that he can admire the way your eyes roll back as your body practically shakes with anticipation. Seungmin loosened his grip on your neck a couple of seconds ago but you haven’t stopped moaning and whimpering ever since he first touched you. 
"No clue." Hyunjin smiles as Felix plays along with him and Seungmin’s game.
"Hm, what about you Chan? Do you remember what comes after four?" Seungmin looks over at his elder, giving him a slight head tilt to confirm that he can truly answer. The once confused but now fully aroused member takes a second before replying. He looks over at you before finally saying the very thing that you’ve been dying to hear
"Five" You gasp in excitement as your lidded eyes meet the lust glazed ones of your partner. It’s almost like you forgot that everyone else was in the room. All that mattered was Seungmin and you only wanted to hear him say one thing.
"Lucky girl" Seungmin pulls you forward by your neck, the harsh movement makes you drag out a loud and lazy moan. "Cum."
Without so much as a second thought you’re letting go in front of everyone. You’re shaking, crying and gasping like a fish out of water as your orgasm rips through you like the venom of a vampire. You lean forward into Seungmin as you grid your cunt against the couch and rest your head on his shoulder. He moves his hand from your neck to your back as he rubs soothing circles into the velvet fabric of your dress. 
“That’s my girl. Sounds so pretty, did so well.” Everyone watches as they weave through various stages of amazement and disbelief as you come down from your high.
Once he sees that you’re riding out the pleasure Seungmin reaches into his pocket to turn off the vibrator. You pant against him, small whimpers escaping you as tears roll down your cheeks. 
“Han, would you pass me a water bottle please?” He does as he asks, leaning over a shocked Minho to reach for the water bottles on the table and handing one to Seungmin.
“I’ll get you your coffee and then I’ll hold you alright? Can you wait for just a second?” He whispers in your ear and you nod against him the best that you can. Usually he’d ask you to use your words but he figured that he’ll let it slide this time.
 Seungmin gives you a soft kiss on your cheek before leaning you back against the couch. You nearly fall over into Changbin who holds you up awkwardly before Hyunjin moves in a bit closer to you. He gives Seungmin a look, asking for permission to touch you which your partner swiftly allows before standing from his spot in front of you and moving back to the coffee machine. He rolls up his sleeves that have fallen down a bit as he starts the machine again and starts to make your favorite aftercare drink. 
Hyunjin puts his arm around you and he allows you to rest on his chest, he rubs up and down your arm and whispers to you to try and ground you a bit. This isn’t the first time that you and Seungmin have done a scene with Hyunjin so he’s no stranger to the type of aftercare that you receive. The rest of the boys look between your limp body resting against your friend and your boyfriend who’s nonchalantly operating the coffee machine while they  quietly try to put the pieces together and figure out exactly what they just witnessed. Seungmin feels the burning stares on the side of his face as he waits for your glass to fill and turns towards his members with a straight face. 
"What are you looking at?" No one responds, they all just stare between you as they open and close their mouths and try to figure out the right question to ask while attempting to hide their aching hard ons. The room stays quiet until Jeongin sighs and stands from his seat.
"Is anyone going to ask what the fuck just happened or is it going to have to be me?"
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[Note: In a healthy BDSM dynamic or scene all members involved should consent before hand. This is a work of fiction and is no way a representation of what real ethical scenes should look like unless there are clear boundaries.]
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superblysubpar · 29 days ago
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best friend!steve harrington x you
3,025 words
warnings: this is a follow up to the one shot "Sincerely, Yours", it's not necessary to read that first, but I think you'll enjoy this one a heck of a lot more if you do | this contains direct dialogue from the movie Risky Business, which I don't own | alcohol mentions | wearing Steve's clothing, but size isn't mentioned | smut (oral, reader performing) - 18+ as always
a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!
A/N: Thank you to everyone sending requests in and for interacting with the first blurb! I'm just doing this for fun, setting a goal and aiming to reach it, but it's so much more fun when people get excited with me! I had such a fantastic time writing this, and there's some little nods to what trick and freak would have been in here, so I hope you enjoy!
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As each cube dropped in the glass, the sharp and ringing clink only made you more aware of how fast your heart was racing.
Whiskey sloshed onto the counter as your hand shook from the pour and you swore under your breath and searched for a rag in the low light.
It’s not like you had anything to be nervous about, not like you were attempting to treat your best friend turned boyfriend to something you hadn’t yet given him.
Because you were taking it slow…
Kind of.
Steve told you over and over again that he didn’t need it reciprocated, that he liked making sure you felt good. He liked kissing you till both of your lips were red and your throats desperate for water and lipstick was smeared across his freckles and moles you couldn’t keep track of counting and your underwear was somehow in his front pocket yet again and the mixtape had been over for who knows how long…
And all of that was fun, more than fun, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit you wanted more. Wanted to make him feel half as good as he’d made you feel, if that was even possible. Steve had thoroughly proved that the build up was just as good, if not better than the main event, but you couldn’t help it if every time your best friend walked in the room all you could think about was jumping his bones.
You’d almost done it, a few weeks ago in the back row of a theater in The Hawk. Your sweet, timid, and seemingly innocent kiss during the opening credits had turned to a hot and more than a little filthy make out session quickly. Steve had practically covered your entire chest in hickeys and you’d somehow ended up straddling his thigh and the thought of slipping to the ground and unzipping his obviously too tight Levi’s was intriguing, until Steve gasped a little too loud when you palmed him over his boxers, under said jeans, and then he flinched, forehead knocking yours, knee sending sticky coke all over the two of you as a flashlight lit you both up and a hissed voice told you to get out.
And then, shortly after that, you’d come even closer, in his bathroom. He’d done something incredibly stupid, but endearingly sweet, standing up for you in front of some assholes. Though his intentions were admirable, Steve had ended up with a bruise along his jaw, a split lip, and a couple of sore spots across his ribs and stomach. You’d patched him up carefully and quietly, scolding him and not really meaning it as he sat on the counter, shirtless, and pliant under your tender touches. Then you’d kissed his jaw and he said it made it feel so much better, could you do it again? And he’d squeezed your waist and smiled that stupid smile that had your legs turning to jelly. So you kissed the corner of his mouth, and let your trail of kissing brush every scratch and bruise you could find, even ones from when you were kids. But when you reached the dark denim resting against his hips, he lifted your head and kissed you, whispered against your lips a simple thank you, honey.
So now, now you weren’t messing around.
Your thumb swiped over the cool metal top of the can of coke and popped the tab, right on schedule as his front door started to creak open.
Steve’s whistle came to a halt as he entered his house, lights off, which wasn’t abnormal, but all the flickering tea light candles definitely were.
“Honey, are you-“
His eyes widened as music started, and you slide out into the foyer, not as fast, but absolutely more graceful and sexier than Tom Cruise, a fact to which you’d probably argue nobody could be hotter than Tom Cruise except maybe Steve himself. The mere thought of you saying this made his body warmer than it already was.
Your heartbeat was louder than the music as you leaned against the door frame and adjusted the corner of Steve’s ray bans you had covering your eyes, begging the butterflies in your stomach to get a fucking grip.
“Hey handsome.”
Steve swallowed, unsure of where to look. Unsure of what to do. What to say. He was fairly certain his tongue had taken over his entire mouth and he’d never be able to speak again except for something dumb like only the word “hot”.
Maybe a “So” in there too.
You had on his socks, bunched up around your ankles.
You had a drinking glass in your hand, a red lipstick stain on the rim.
You had on one of his dress shirts, slightly unbuttoned and revealing something that was red and lacy and really fucking hot.
You were Risky Businessing him.
Which, he guesses, is kind of fair, after all of the The Breakfast Clubbing he’d done to you.
Your eyebrows raised above his glasses, he assumed because you were waiting for his response so he cleared his throat, suddenly desperate for that drink your fingers were curled around.
“He-hey.”
Christ, his voice cracked.
You didn’t seem to mind, your lips quirked up on one end, adopting his signature cocky smirk.
Steve took a step forward, then another, and when he was almost to you, you matched each of his steps with one backwards. Steve’s eyes narrowed, his lips twitched in a fight for a smile.
“Angel,” he whispered, tilting his head, “What are you doing?”
Your foot reached the bottom stair, and you stepped up as you slid his glasses on to the top of your head and matched his volume, which you didn’t really mind, since you weren’t sure your nerves would let you speak louder anyways.
“You know Steve,” you grabbed at his hand and pulled him up the stairs right behind you, not missing the way his fingers curled into yours eagerly, “ ‘There’s one thing I’ve learned, in all my years…’ ”
Steve’s smile won now, following you up the stairs slowly, hanging on every word he already knew was coming.
“ ‘Sometimes’,” you cleared your throat, making it up to the top of the staircase, only stopping when you were just in front of the closed door to his room. “ ‘You gotta say what the fuck, make your move.’ ”
The door to his room swung open to reveal even more candles and Steve’s brain took a second to catch up with what he was seeing and hearing as you lead him into his room, as you glanced over your shoulder with a timid smile.
He looked up at you, as you led him to sit on the edge of his bed, hand gently pushing at his shoulder before you gave him the drink in your hand.
Steve could see now that you were nervous, the way your finger was scratching at the skin around your thumbnail, the way your thighs rubbed together and your toes wiggled in his socks as your shoulders hunched.
He quickly set the glass down on the ground and grabbed for your hands, voice soothing, “Hey, what’s going on, we don’t have-“
“Steve,” you interrupted, squeezing his fingers, “Let me say this, please?”
His head nodded, eyebrows scrunched together under a few pieces of hair that refused to stay put as his thumb swiped over the back of your knuckles gently.
Steve’s mind raced through thousands of terrible things you were about to tell him, not a fan of the tone you just had and how nervous you were and how you were clearly trying to distract him from whatever-
“I want to give you a blow job.”
His ears aren’t working anymore, everything sounding a little fuzzy and suddenly his mouth is so much more dry and his hands are sweating in yours that squeezed his fingers again as you blinked at him.
Blinked pretty pretty eyes above sexy pouting red lips in his fucking clothes and-
He reached for the drink he set down and started taking too large of gulps, the burning amber liquid doing nothing to soothe his throat.
“I know maybe you haven’t wanted me to because maybe you think I’ll be so terrible at it, but I have-“
“What?” he gasped, mouth falling open as you crossed your arms over your chest and took a step away from him. His stomach twisted from the thought that he’s made you feel like this.
Steve’s hands reached for you, curling around your hips before pulling you towards him slowly, speaking softly as he did, “Honey, I nearly just came in my jeans hearing you say you want to do that. That’s not the problem at all.”
Your hands found a new home on his shoulders, as you let Steve pull you between his spread legs. You tried not to focus on how good his hands running down and back up your thighs felt, or how his gaze kept drifting to where his hands catch the hem of his shirt as you asked, “But there is a problem?”
He shook his head, “No, no, problem is a bad word. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that. ‘Cause maybe those other guys assumed, or made you or-“
Your hand cupped his jaw. “I promise, I want to give you one, I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me.”
Steve’s brain buzzed, fizzled, then sparked, never to work properly again, he’s sure of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flap their wings wildly, shouting at you to do it already as Steve’s mouth hung open at your words and he let slip this sound that you’ve never heard from him before, intent on never forgetting it as long as you live.
Your thumb swiped over his lip, before both hands were pulling off his shirt and then you were saying, “Lay back for me, baby.”
Steve nodded as you guided him back on the bed, crawling over his body until his head was resting on a pillow and his hands were gripping your waist as you hovered over him.
The candles flickered around you, sending soft, warm gold and orange across his features, highlighting his cupid’s bow and the freckles next to his eyes. Your hands pressed to the mattress on either side of his head as your lips barely brushed his while your hips lowered, rolled against the already hard length beneath his jeans.
Steve’s fingers toyed with red lace as he gasped into your mouth when it retreated so quickly, head lifting from the pillow to chase your kiss. But your lips evaded him, skimming across his cheek to his jaw, leaving their mark on his neck as you spoke.
“Guess I shouldn’t give you one until you’re dizzy though, yeah? It’s only fair…”
His eyelashes fluttered closed as your teeth scraped on his neck while your lower half rolled against him, making his hips thrust up in search of more friction.
“Fu-fuck. I’m dizzy. I’m so dizzy,” he gasped, fingers searching under his button down for more of your skin to grab at.
You hummed into his chest, pressed another kiss there and then lifted your head to ask, “Sufficiently, so?”
He whined, loud, and scratchy and he didn’t even care if he sounded pathetic.
Steve looked like you’d never seen him. You’d witnessed a pretty dazed look before, after kissing each other in a way that left little time for things like air, or when he’d looked up at you after that first night in the back seat of his car. But this was different, so different.
His eyelids were hooded, the green and gold you’d normally get to stare into blown out by dark pupils and more of a match to the now drained whiskey in the low light. His cheeks were flushed pink, just like his lips that he’d just licked. Brown hair all wild, already ruffled and messed up from the few moments against his pillows. His chest was heaving, like his lungs didn’t know how to take in air and expel it normally anymore, muscles underneath tan skin taut and flexing every time you adjusted your hips.
Your heartbeat was in your ears as your fingers started to slip over the silver buckle on his belt and your voice strained to sound confident.
“Your ‘I’m about to get a blow job’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
The sound of his zipper dragging open was loud, and painfully slow.
Steve’s hands gripped the bedding next to him, his neck extended, his swallow prominent and on display as you pushed at his jeans and he gasped out a quiet, “Not sexy?”
You laughed, breath warm against his stomach, just above the band of his boxers. Your nose traced along the elastic while your hand palmed him through the fabric.
“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, strained and through clenched teeth.
Figuring you’d teased him long enough, you pulled at his boxers, helping him carefully kick off the garments stuck around his ankles. Your hands rested on his thighs as you took a deep breath and risked a glance back up at him.
Steve was propped up on his elbows, swallowing as he watched you lower yourself, hands flexing against the sheets as your tongue traced over a vein, following it up his length. He took deep breaths, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that he was about to come in two seconds.
Your hand wrapped around him, while your mouth brushed over his tip, fighting a smile when his hips flexed under you.
“Relax, Steve,” you whispered against the head of him, looking up under your lashes to find him biting his lip raw as you continued, “Let me make you feel good, please?”
He nodded, frantic and suddenly stopping as his mouth fell open when yours sunk lower on him. Your tongue rested flat against him, spit traveling down his length the further you went.
Steve barely fit in your mouth, jaw straining and your hand helping as your head bobbed up and down. Confidence growing by the second with each restrained thrust of his hips, desperate to meet your mouth, each glance up at him flushed and gripping the sheets, each babbled word and phrase from his lips meeting your ears and only making you go faster.
“Holy…oh my…honey, you’re-“
He couldn’t even form a coherent thought, lost in the sight of him disappearing into your mouth, the red lipstick staining his skin, the way your lips popped off of the tip, spit keeping you connected. His stomach was burning, chest on fire when you blinked at him and smiled shyly after a few minutes.
“Good?”
Steve nodded, his hand left the mattress without thinking and curled around your jaw, pulling you up, desperate to kiss you and make your lipstick even more a mess, but you pulled away.
“Steve, I’m not done,” you kissed his palm, “Gotta taste you, baby.”
He sucked in a breath and shook his head no, eyes squeezed shut as he gasped out, “Oh my god, you can’t say stuff like-“
“You say stuff like that all the time!” Your protest a laugh, making his dick twitch against his stomach, which makes your mouth water.
“But-“ his feeble attempt at another protest lost the minute your mouth was back on him, too warm and too perfect. You were perfect. Perfect like chocolate and popcorn together, perfect like a red swimsuit in his pool, perfect like his best fucking friend in the whole world sharing his milkshake and stealing his fries and laughing at something dumb he said. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you. Steve’s hands twitch at his sides, desperate to reach out and touch you, to hold the back of your head and never let you go, but knowing he can’t do that.
At least, not yet.
You’re lost in the way he feels against your tongue, the way he hits the back of your throat, how your underwear is just as wet as you’ve made him, desperate to come with him, your fingers slide between your legs when Steve whimpers, “You’re so…so good, oh my god-“
His gasp has you looking up to find Steve’s mouth hung open and his stare on where your fingers press circles into your clit, cheeks warm and stomach more so under his gaze.
Steve swallows, and nods to your fingers, “Faster, go faster baby.”
Your eyes practically roll back, doing as he says, mouth slipping over him deeper and at a quicker pace your fingers try to match.
Steve’s hand cups your jaw, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth where you meet him, smearing whatever lipstick’s left as his stomach clenches and his hips thrust up.
“Honey, ohmygod, I’m gonna…where-“
You only double down on your efforts, taking him even deeper and Steve spills over your tongue as he says your name in a way you’ll never forget.
Like it has only the best letters. Like it only belongs coming out of his mouth.
Like it was his.
You gush over your own fingers as you swallow around him and he winces when he slips from between your lips.
Both of you are breathing hard, needing a minute, but Steve’s never been patient. He grabs at you, pulling you up his body until he’s rolling you, his name a laugh and protest all in one as he kisses down your body and starts unbuttoning his shirt.
He only stops to kiss you, finally, holding your lips for a little longer than he needs to between his own and whispers against them, “That’s enough out of you, I think.”
Your laugh curls around him like your fingers in the hair behind his ear.
“Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me-“
His mouth was on before you could even finish the sentence, words cut off in a gasp of his name.
Like it had only the best letters, like it was yours.
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I'm actually so deeply excited for all three of these options, I can't wait to see the results! (And also, I mean, how could I not do we'll call it love steve for sunset? Is anyone shocked?)
*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3
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witchywithwhiskey · 3 months ago
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the princess and the villain
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pairing: choose your own soft!dark male character x female reader
summary: you're the daughter of a powerful mob boss, and someone's been hired to take you away. but after one look at your face, the man starts getting ideas about keeping you for himself.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes, abduction, drugging, dirty thoughts and fantasies (including nonconsensual somnophilia), sadism, dacryphilia, a dangerously delusional man
word count: 1.7k
a/n: i wrote this prologue-y thing back in early spring for a specific character, but while i liked this part, i didn't like anything about how the story progressed after it and i ended up abandoning the fic. but i still really liked this part and i thought it'd be a fun entry in @bucks-and-noble's Choose Your Babe challenge!! so, after you read, please tell me who you think is the villain to our princess 😈
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For you, it was a night like any other. 
You’d gone through your normal evening routine, padding softly around your penthouse apartment before slipping between the satin sheets of your queen-sized bed. 
You’d drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe in the knowledge that your security system was set, there was an armed doorman in the lobby of your building, and your father’s men were only a phone call away.
For him, it was the night everything changed.
Of course, everything would change for you, too. You just didn’t know it yet.
You were blissfully unaware of everything that had been put in motion that led to the events of that night. You slept soundly as a man you’d never met before—one wearing a dark suit, dark gloves and a dark look in his eye—stalked silently into your bedroom. He adjusted the black leather gloves he wore, a silver gun gripped in one steady hand as he came to stand over you. 
You looked like a princess.
It was the first thing that struck the man, how much you looked like a sleeping princess from the fairytales he’d read as a boy. So peaceful and pretty and perfect. 
But the man wasn’t a knight or a prince. Sure, he’d had noble aspirations when he’d been young, wanting to slay dragons and rescue princesses like you. But that’s not how his life turned out.
Instead, he’d become the villain. He was the assassin who had killed your father’s men assigned to protect you, then slit the throat of the doorman in your lobby before disarming your security system and letting himself into your defenseless apartment. 
He was the mercenary hired by your mafia boss father’s rival to abduct you and hold you hostage while the old men squabbled over power and money.
As the man stared down at your face, his eyes tracing the curve of your cheek and the dip of your mouth, the thought occurred to him that he would pay anything to get you back if you’d been taken from him. He’d burn the whole world down to find you if someone managed to take you from him. Not that he’d ever let you out of his sight if you were his…
But then he reminded himself that you weren’t his, you were a job, and his thoughts soured. It was more difficult than he would’ve liked to admit to get back to work, his movements lacking their normal meticulousness as he shoved his gun into its holster beneath his arm. 
He pulled a cloth and a small bottle of chloroform from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He didn’t normally need to watch what he was doing, but he did then, making extra certain he didn’t pour too much of the sedative onto the cloth before stowing the bottle away again.
Normally, the man was a professional. He could press the cloth so gently over someone’s mouth and nose while they slept that they’d never even know they were being drugged. They’d just slip peacefully from sleeping into unconsciousness, without any of the fear or struggle that came with waking up to realize they were being drugged by a stranger.
But the man’s mask of calm had slipped the moment he’d laid eyes on your beauty, and he could feel the darkness in the very depths of his soul stirring within him. It was seething and starving, testing the limits of his self-control, making him feel on edge. He wanted. He wanted you.
The man could picture his hand roughly covering your mouth and nose with the chloroform cloth, your eyes flying open and staring up at him. He could imagine the way they’d widen with horror, then fill with tears that slipped down your temples and into your hair. He could almost hear your soft cry of distress and your whimper of terror as you comprehended your fate.
As he fantasized about your fear, the man’s cock hardened in his pants, thickening at the thought of your pretty eyes staring up at him like the villain he was. A menacing grin slowly curled the corners of his mouth and the dark look in his eye turned positively wicked.
Then he was moving, forgoing his normal precision and letting the darkness within him take hold as he slammed the chloroform cloth over your pretty mouth and pert nose, the tips of his leather-clad fingers digging into your soft cheeks hard enough to make you scream in surprise.
When your eyes flew open, the man couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty, leaning forward to loom over your body to get a better look. The moonlight shone across your face, limning your features in ethereal silver light, making you look like an angel. You were even more beautiful when you were looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world. 
The mercenary had thought your immediate reaction would be fear, but he was wrong. He hadn’t anticipated the way your brows would furrow in confusion, sweet little lines forming between them as you stared up at him, more bewildered than terrified by his presence.
But then—then it happened. Confusion gave way to horror, your chest heaving as you breathed in panicked gasps, only succeeding in inhaling more of the drug and dooming yourself. You whimpered so sweetly it sounded like music to the man’s ears, and your eyes filled with tears. The man watched, his mouth curving into a greedy, predatory smile. 
He held your terrified gaze, using one hand to brace the back of your head so you couldn’t escape the cloth that covered your mouth and nose and you continued to breathe in the sedative. His cock ached in his pants, the full length of him pressing against the tight confines as he throbbed with arousal, his balls filling with come that he furiously wanted to spill across your face. Or bury deep in one of your warm holes… 
His attention was forced back to the present when your body jerked with dawning realization of what was happening to you. You reached for the dangerous stranger looming over you, your fingertips falling just shy of brushing against his bulge. The man’s cock twitched, as if reaching for you in return, and he had to stop himself from thrusting to meet your touch. 
Thankfully for him, the chloroform was doing its job, and your hands dropped futilely as your eyes began to close. Your arms fell listlessly to the bed and the man watched you succumb to the sedative he’d used to drug you.
When he was certain you were unconscious, he pulled the cloth away and stowed it back in his jacket pocket, ensuring he didn’t leave any trace of his presence in your apartment. That was the job, he tried to remind himself, but the darkness within him was louder, and his movements were all too eager as he pulled the blankets of your bed back, baring your body to his hungry gaze.
He felt his cock throb in excitement as he stared down at you, your body clad in nothing but a skimpy little nightgown, the fabric so thin he could see the shape of your nipples poking through. His eyes roved greedily over your curves, lingering for a long moment on the way the bottom hem of your nightdress was rucked up around your hips, almost giving him a glimpse of your precious cunt nestled between your thighs.
The man wanted desperately to know if you’d gone to bed without panties, but he knew he had to ignore the creeping darkness that had slithered into his mind. Not because it would be a gross invasion of privacy to take a peek at your panties while you were unconscious, but because he knew that if he pushed your nightdress up any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sinking his cock into your tight cunt while you were still out cold.
He’d never fucked a princess, and fucking you—even if it was while you were unconscious—might be the closest he ever got. You were a sleeping beauty and he was no prince charming, no honorable knight. He was the villain, and he wanted to ravage you, whether you were awake or not. 
In that moment, he couldn’t decide which would be better. Fucking you while you were soft and pliant with sleep, your body taking his cock into your tight warm hole while you mumbled incoherently against his shoulder. Or fucking you when you were awake, so he could see your pretty eyes fill with tears again, hear the desperate sounds you made while he filled you with his cock…
The leather of the man’s gloves creaked in the silence of your bedroom as he curled his hands into fists and beat back the darkness that had slipped into his head. He was a professional. He’d been hired to do a job, and you were that job. 
You weren’t his princess to steal away from the king’s tower. He needed to remember that.
The mercenary adjusted his cock in his pants, working hard to reclaim the control that had fled the moment he’d laid eyes on you. He forced his limbs to move precisely as he gathered you up into his arms, ignoring his body’s responses when he smelled the sweet scent of you settle around him, and when he felt your soft breath exhale against his neck. 
A car was waiting in the parking garage beneath the building, ready for the man to take you far away from your home and the city where your father held enough power to be considered a king. He encountered no obstacles as he carried you down to the garage and buckled you into the passenger seat of the car.
As the man drove away, he couldn’t help but feel like the villain stealing the princess from the king’s tower, and it gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. He may not have been a prince or a knight, but he had taken the princess. And he began to think that maybe he should keep you for himself. 
Perhaps the man could write his own kind of twisted fairytale, one where the villain got to keep the princess. 
Looking over at you, your features soft in sleep and no less beautiful than when he’d first laid eyes on you, the man made his decision. He’d have his happily ever after at any cost—which meant he’d have to convince you that he was your fairytale come to life, just as you were his.
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so who's the babe!? tell me in the comments, reblogs or in my askbox!
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imaginesmai · 11 months ago
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Taken - Azriel
This is long and this is messy. I don't know where this came out, but shoutout to @marscardigan because she requested this fic so long ago I almost forgot. Enjoy the ANGST.
This is a fic inside the baker!reader universe from Right around the corner. You don't need to read the fics to understand but it will help you!
Plot: you're taken in the worst possible situation, and Azriel fights against time to find you.
Warnings: pregnant!reader, blood, wounds, death (not main characters).
You should have closed the bakery a while ago, you knew. You should have also taken a few days off and relay on Elain a bit more. As a matter of a fact, there was a long list of things you should have done better, most of them converged in the last month, but you were busy. And stubborn.
A very busy, very stubborn, very pregnant baker who was closing the bakery way too late.
You had been lucky that morning when you had won the first argument. It was Nyx birthday in a few days, and the boy wanted a special cake with the shadows of his uncle. And you had been working on it even if you were supposed to be on house arrest, only because Azriel was with you at all given time.
But that day, your mate had a meeting and he couldn’t stay with you, so originally you weren’t supposed to go. Originally. Since Azriel loved Nyx as much as you, he had agreed to leave you at the bakery on your own and not chain you to bed.
You hoped that agreement was still valid if he discovered how late it was.
“Alright” you muttered, looking down at the cake with your hands resting on your swollen belly. “I think it’s coming just fine, huh? One more floor and it’ll be the event of the year”
The cake had a base covered in black chocolate, small curls that simulated shadows coming from the bottom. You had already finished the worst part, and had the rest of the shadows ready in the oven for tomorrow.
While you admired your work, you rubbed your hands absentmindedly across your stomach. At the beginning on the third trimester, you looked ready to give birth. Maybe it was because of the wings, or maybe the baby already took upon his father’s size.
“I hope your tastes are less expensive than your cousin’s” you said, smiling when your rubs were answered by a strong kick. “That didn’t feel like agreeing”
The shadows that were already yours pushed you once more to the door, like they had been doing for the past hours, since the sun came down. Raising your hands up in defeat, you took the first step back home.
“Alright, I’m going. I’m going” you chuckled as they pressed more urgently now that you started walking. ���I’m fine, it’s late but I’m finishing. Promise to put my feet up when I get home”
Talking with the shadows and with your baby was as common as talking to yourself. Just as Azriel, you seemed to understand what they wanted to tell you. You endured their constant tugging and pulling as you closed off the bakery.
Only when the door was locked and you turned to take the few steps to your house, you realized just how late it was.
“Oh” you blinked, looking around you. The babe sent another, softer kick.
The street was empty, the night silent. Not even the few cats that purred in the shadows happened to be there that night. Even though it was a summer night, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you put the key on your pocket and took the already usual wobbly steps.
At any given moment, you liked to think, you would have been more aware. Azriel had trained you for it, his family had too in the last years. But still, that one time you would have used any of that training, you couldn’t.
Your hand only made it to the knock of your door when the faebane arrow went clean through your shoulder. A clothe covered your mouth as the few shadows tried to blind whoever was behind you, not given you any time to scream or call for help. Gripping onto the last thread of consciousness, you tugged on the bond.
-
The meeting was taking far longer than what he would have liked.
It was supposed to be easy, to talk the problems out and to let Keir go with a warning. That was why Rhysand had asked him to come along, so that his shadows would snoop around while the male was busy. Because, if the high lord had known it would take so long, he wouldn’t have dared to separate Azriel from you.
Since you both solved your last argument, things had gotten better. He was ready to give himself to you, to become a better man for you and to be what you needed. And seven months ago, it had kept going – you were pregnant, with his child.
And if Azriel thought you were beautiful before, watching your body swell with a new life, watching you become a mother, made you perfect. The thought of you and your future child was what kept him put during hours.
He had known you were at the bakery alone; had known he was supposed to be home before dinner. But he waited, because he didn’t have a reason not to. Azriel felt a tug at the bond during the meeting, and sent a reassuring pull back.
He waited, until Keir left and he put a foot out of Hewn City. Cassian was waiting for them with his arms crossed, his back to their brothers.
“Missed us much?” Rhysand teased, letting himself smile for the first time in that day. “Is staying with – what’s wrong?”
Cassian turned around and his face fell. Azriel recognized earlier than Rhysand the fall of his shoulders, the slump on his wings. There was tension and pain written all over his face. His spymaster-mind ran over a few possibilities before his brother locked eyes with him – an attack to Velaris, an update about Beron’s plans, the revolution in the human’s lands. He even had time to worry about Nyx.
Then, he locked eyes and his breath got stuck in his throat.
“What?” he blurted out. The look on Cassian’s face threatened to swallow him down a spiral of panic. “Cassian, what?”
“What happened?” Rhysand asked, although he was already reading the general’s mind.
“Y/N’s been taken. Don’t know where yet or why” the general spoke, without dropping Azriel’s burning gaze. “I’ve got guards up in the sky and through Velaris”
“Taken?” the high lord asked again, frowning.
“Your shadows came into the wind house, somehow… Nyx knows. He told us what they saw. We are looking for her already, don’t panic. We will find her”
Rhysand could see through Cassian’s eyes, the burst of Azriel’s shadows and a crying Nyx in his room, waking him up. His son telling him about the shadows warning him in his sleep, asking the general if it was true and why they said that.
He looked at Azriel, who looked as pale as the bone wall behind them. The Illyrian tried to come up with something to say, just as he had done in so many similar occasions. It was him who remained calm when Rhysand went under the mountain, when Nyx’s life was threatened just after he was born. Azriel made plans, he was a skilled warrior.
Still, he could only tug on the bond and horrify at the emptiness that came back.
“I can’t feel her” he confessed, finally looking away from Cassian to Rhysand. “Why? Why can’t I feel her?”
“She isn’t dead” his brother answered immediately. “You would know. It’s the faebane, you won’t feel her if they have used it. Cassian, what do we know?”
“No smells, no traces. Bakery was empty and her apartment too. They must have taken her in between”
“Who would fucking take a pregnant woman?” Azriel blurted out. “She’s pregnant. She’s – fuck! In between? It’s – it’s two steps! There’s no space in between!”
“What else?” Rhysand ignored him.
“They sent a note”
Azriel’s panic died down for a moment when Cassian handed his high lord the note. He quickly snatched it away. Barely able to keep in place, he turned his back to his brothers and shamelessly used his shadows in his favor.
He heard his name being called, felt Rhysand demanding to be let in. His own power wasn’t a match for the high lord’s, but it would keep them out enough to read the note.
One of the first rules he applied when it came to kidnappings was to keep the family and loved ones out of it. They didn’t think clearly, and without wanting to, could endanger the victim. But it wasn’t just a person, it was you.
So, ignoring his own rules, he opened the note.
If you want Y/N and the baby safe, the spymaster will present himself at the given coordinates before sunrise. Impaled with faebane and with no hidden tricks. Once we deem so, we will deliver the girl in Windhaven.
Each hour past sunrise will be paid. Don’t be late.
We do not appreciate being hunted.
There were words, that made sentences, and that should have made sense. But all Azriel could see was your name, the word baby, and feel his chest tighten. That wasn’t a clue, there was no way they would find them before sunrise and bring you home to him. Right then, he understood why they kept family out of those types of matters.
The note was snatched out of his hands by a very angry looking Rhysand, with a pained Cassian behind his back.
As Rhysand read the note, Azriel let himself have a moment of sorrow. He turned every emotion upside down, explored them instead of refusing to acknowledge. For years, he had feared the possibility of you being taken from his side. There would be time to panic once he had you in his arms, to worry about the baby once he could touch your belly once more and check your pulse and breathing.
Azriel tugged on the bond once more, feeling the crushing emptiness back. There was nothing, and he was threatened to become nothing too. Instead, he tugged on the faint, thin bond that was still developing. It was barely a thread of your own, fragile but promising.
The bond with your child had been the cause of your discovery. One day it was only the two of you, and then Azriel felt something else. He tugged on that and, even if he didn’t receive anything back, he knew.
“They’re in the mountains” he looked at his brothers. “Can’t say where, but far from Windhaven”
“How are you sure?” Cassian asked, but Rhysand smiled knowingly. Sadly.
“The other bond. You shouldn’t pull too hard, Az. It’s – “
“I won’t. But I’m not letting one second go if I can find her” Azriel cut him off with a hard look. “You’re wasting your time in Velaris”
“Don’t you dare, Az”
Cassian words were lost in the wind as he winnowed away, Rhysand barely touching his forearm. He knew he shouldn’t tug on the bond so soon in his child’s life, that it would only put him at risk. Risk an early labor, risk your discomfort. But if it meant it would take him back to you, he would rip the word apart piece by piece.
-
You didn’t know how, but after all those years, all those good memories built that replaced the bad ones, you just knew. You recognized the painted walls, the stains on the ground, and the smell from the fire.
Nothing had changed over the centuries that had passed by, you realized. The tavern was just as terrible as it had been, just as dirty. They were just as tall and broad as they were, although not that many. And you were that scared girl that they ripped their wings from, tucked into a corner.
While they stared at you, you only hug your belly and tried to keep your tears at bay.
You had woken up a while ago, and they had only whispered between them. From what you had gathered, they didn’t expect the pregnancy, and were worried about it. The one who had clipped your wings so long ago wasn’t around, thanks to Azriel, but you recognized their faces.
You also recognized the blood stains on the ground and walls, courtesy of your mate and probably the reason you were in that position.
“It has closed” one of them broke the silence, frowning. “Why has it closed so soon? We just took it out”
“Must be the babe” the taller one, whom you remembered to be called Sandor, shrugged.
“It’s the third time – “
“All right, girl, you already know to stay put” Sandor sighed, as if it was a simple routine.
You refused to talk, refused to anger them just like you had done in the past and pay for your actions. It wasn’t just your life in the game, and right then, your priority wasn’t it.
With only the moon light through the window, Sandor knelt in front of you and grabbed a clean arrow. Two bloodied ones were discarded on the ground, ripped out of your shoulder and arm. Apparently, they didn’t want to risk you healing around the arrow, in case it would somehow affect the baby.
That didn’t mean they weren’t willing to stick another one once the wound was closed and there was a chance of Azriel feeling you through the bond.
For a moment, Sandor hesitated. It was clear that he wasn’t comfortable about your belly or the situation. Hurting you to get Azriel might had been fine, but hurting pregnant-you was debatable.
“Just do it, man. You might already ring the bells and light a bonfire” the nameless one snapped.
“Do you want to do it?” Sandor turned around on his knees. “Clyde, I’ve got a pregnant woman at home. And she looks ready to burst”
“It’s not your woman, it’s his. Do you want to stare at what used to be Burton?” Clyde pointed to the darkest stain. “Tell him if he wants to consider, take his time”
As they argued, you finally felt it. A tug, a breeze, nothing more than a feeling, but it was there. It was Azriel pulling at the bond like his life depended on it, with so much strength you were sure he was using power that wasn’t only his.
You blinked surprised at the change. It had taken you all your willpower not to panic when you woke up feeling nothing on the other side, and they hadn’t let enough time for your body to recover from the fae bane to feel it again. But as they argued, you silently cherished the discovery. Maybe it was the baby’s strength, maybe it was the cauldron leaning in your favor or any other force, but not only you were healing fast – you were getting the bond back.
Still looking at them, you tugged back. The bond went silent for a second, and you pressed against it again. You were hit with an overwhelming amount of worry, of fear but also love and relief. Azriel’s emotions became yours, and you were so glad it was about to be over that you unfocused your gaze.
It was enough for Clyde to notice your far-away look, and realize what was happening.
“Fuck, she’s warning him!” Clyde rushed forwards, taking the arrow out of Sandor’s grip. “You think you’re so smart?”
You blinked your fogginess away when he walked towards you, coming back to your senses. There wasn’t enough amount of love or assurance Azriel could send you that would stop you from panicking.
“No, wait” you pushed yourself farther into the corner as he moved closer, screaming at Azriel as loud as you could through the watered bond. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“You knocked-up, useless, brat” he gripped your ankle and pushed you towards him, your back and head hitting the ground. “Let’s see how you tell him this”
The momentary pain of hitting the ground wasn’t enough to drown the anguish of having a new arrow dug into your leg, just above your knee. The ceiling became blurry and his voices tuned out as you screamed in pain, your bounded hands trying aimlessly to break free.
You couldn’t remember the pain from the first one, seeing you were knocked out, and Sandor had managed to make the other one hurt less. But Clyde pushed his body weight onto your leg, the bottom of the arrow piercing the ground. You looked up and watched horrified as blood started leaking out through your pants and under your leg.
Moving away from him only caused the arrow to shift, but being near him was putting your baby close to the monster. So, in your panic, you tried to ease the pain by lifting your leg while shifting farther into the corner.
“How’s the bond now, uh? Is your pussy boy there?” he chuckled, while Sandor looked away. “Go on, tell him how bad we are”
“We should move” the third one spoke for the first time. “If he has felt her, he knows”
“You heard the boss” rough hands tried to push you up while you cried out.
“No” you repeated, letting Clyde put your whole weight up and almost collapsing after him. “Please, just let me go. Let me go”
Gone was the keep-quiet-don’t-talk. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks as Sandor stepped on your other side, holding you up a bit gentler than Clyde. Your baby started kicking on your side, and between the pain and desperation, you felt like throwing up and passing out.
Their chatter as they discussed what to do next was background noise. Certainly, they weren’t taking the arrow out that time, risk or no risk of being sealed inside and affecting the baby. You could barely stand up between your kidnappers and remember how to breath at the same time.
You wanted Azriel, that was the only thing you were certain. You shouldn’t have closed so late, you shouldn’t have gone to the bakery on your own, and you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed that morning. The baby agreed with you, answering each thought with a powerful kick to your kidneys and bladder.
You tried desperately to think about positive things, to keep yourself sane enough. Closing your eyes, you thought about him. His hazel eyes, that shone with a special light when he saw you between the crowd. His mouth, that curled up so lightly every time you stared at him. The freckles in his cheeks, that one that snuck up to the corner of his eye.
You could almost hear his voice reminding you to breath carefully and gain control of your body when the pregnancy pain hit, and you tried to do the same. Taking a deep breath through your mouth, holding it in. Letting it go through your nose.
“Oh, sure, because winnowing her again is the best solution, right?” Sandor scoffed loudly.
You moved your toes lightly, relieved to notice that despite the burning and overwhelming pain, you could still feel everything. From your feet to your head, you twitched every part of your body, finally able to breathe through the pain.
That didn’t mean you could move without them hauling you up, or that the baby was anymore happy.
“Enough! We’re moving now. Grab the things. We winnow – “ the anonymous man startled you, making you look up.
“I need to go the bathroom” you whispered, although it was heard as if you shouted it.
Three pair of eyes looked at you with raised brows, one pair certainly more annoyed than the other two. You didn’t know how far had it been since they took you, but it was still night time. During the last weeks, you had been paying a visit to your bathroom at least once every two hours.
And that was being generous.
The babe kicked again against your bladder, making your knees wobble. If you didn’t catch a bathroom, in a minute, you would have to let go.
“Sure. Do you want me run a bath too? Clyde, you could massage her feet. Is our lady tired of standing up for so long?”
“Nestor, she’s pregnant” Sandor was the only one looking slightly affected by your request. “My Lorren – “
“Your Lorren is home and we are here. Stop with Lorren!” Clyde let you go to push Sandor’s shoulders, which made you stumble back.
“I’m not carrying her if she’s gonna pee herself”
“She’s gonna be a big girl and hold it, right?” Nestor gave you a tense smile. “And you’re going to winnow her to the cabin”
“I’m not taking her to the cabin, man”
And while you stood up and waited for them to decided where to take you, you felt your bladder giving up. It wouldn’t be the first time you peed yourself, and with the strength your baby was kicking you right then, you were amazed that you managed to hold it for a few seconds.
Clyde and Nestor kept arguing loudly about the cabin, while Sandor just looked at you with a scrunched nose. You would have felt embarrassed, but you were in pain, you were scared and tired. It was hard to stay standing at any given moment with your belly. Whether it was the wings or the baby’s size, you were heavy.
The discomfort of the arrow was starting to become secondary. Even though you had just peed yourself, you still felt the kicks against your bladder – and almost against every part of your soul. You gripped the only thing available when another wave of kicks hit you, that being Sandor’s arm.
The man realized at the same time you did what was happening, although he didn’t have time to voice it out.
“Damn it!” Clyde barely missed the door coming out of its hinges. He didn’t miss the knife that embedded itself on his throat.
“Sandor, shoot him!” Nestor yelled to his friend, who was too busy keeping you off the ground now that the only support was holding his open neck. “Shoot!”
“Pathetic”
His voice was like a cold breeze in the summer, the feeling of his shadows helping you gently to stand up making your breath speed up once more.
Azriel appeared like a dark angel through the open door, his eyes not even leaving you as he stopped an arrow with his bare hand. His wings covered the moon behind him, but they didn’t stop the next figure coming through. Before Clyde hit the ground still chocking on his last breath, Rhysand had winnowed himself and Nestor out of the tavern.
You briefly wondered if death by Azriel’s hands right then would have been better than by the spymaster’s hands later.
Your mate said nothing as Sandor was ripped out of your side. Only by gripping his arm and pulling him away from you, you heard the awful crack of his arm breaking into two.
Sandor cried out, only getting a few seconds to acknowledge his arm before his left wing is ripped out of his back. Azriel’s shadows assessed your body with a sickening speed, coming to the same conclusion you had.
You were lowered softly onto the ground, silently watching what Azriel had always hidden from you. The unleveled part of him, the one that came out when someone he loved was in danger. He feared that part would take you away from him. But as you watched your mate tear Sandor to pieces, you only felt relief at his presence.
The male wasn’t done screaming for his life when he fell dead to the side. His mangled body was blocked from your view by training leathers and tearful hazel eyes. Everything he had felt during the last hours, that he had denied himself from so he would find you, crashed hard.
His scarred hands held your face while he scanned your body, stopping on your untouched belly and bleeding wound. He didn’t even flinch when he touched your soaked pants to pull it out.
The pain you were in in that moment prevented you from feeling anything more than a discomfort at the pull.
“You’re alive” Azriel cried out, not holding his tears back. “I thought – for a moment, I thought… I couldn’t feel you. And then I did, but you were gone. I didn’t know what had happened. I almost died, Y/N. You’re alive. You’re okay”
“Az” you whined, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harder than it was necessary.
“The baby’s bond… I followed it to the mountains. I know I shouldn’t, but I pulled it” he placed one hand on your belly, laughing tearfully when he felt a kick back. “I love you. I love you both so much”
There weren’t words to explain what Azriel had felt in the last few hours. How he had stumbled down into the snow when he had felt your end of the bond alive, how desperate he had been to follow it. Then, it had gone dark and if it wasn’t for Rhysand following him, he would have crashed right there.
He was glad his brother had been there, that he had taken a male away for questioning. Once you were safe and with Madja, he would make sure to take his time.
Azriel pressed a shaky, wet kiss to your forehead, then another one to your nose. He kissed each and every tear that had stained your cheeks in the past hour, finally pressing his lips against yours.
When he moved back, ready to winnow you both back to Velaris and hold you close for a week, he was surprised to see new tears running down your cheeks. What he thought was terror for the kidnapping, the anguish of your captors, hadn’t left your face.
“What’s wrong?” he frowned, leaving his own despair for later and looking back at your body.
“Az” you repeated.
You had realized what was happening before him, had known just before Sandor. His shadows couldn’t possibly understand what was happening, and so, Azriel didn’t. Any pain you had felt during that night paled away from the complete, absolute fear the crippled you as you stared at your mate in that dark tavern, where your worst memories had taken place.
“I’m here” he reminded you, his hand caressing the belly. “Where does it –“
“It’s coming” you finally admitted, watching the realization hitting him. “The baby’s coming”
It had felt like peeing yourself, like normal kicks, you guessed. What had given it away was crippling, motherly realization that your baby wanted out. That bond that had connected you to it was more present than ever, and somehow, you knew.
Azriel paled even more if that was possible. Right there, sitting in the dirty, bloodied and now empty tavern, your water had broken. You wanted to break down crying, because of course, given your history your baby would choose that moment.
When Azriel didn’t say anything, you lip wobbled again. Because, if he didn’t have the answers, who would?
“It’s coming” you said again, feeling like a broken record. “What do we do? What -?”
“I’ll winnow us to Velaris” Azriel interrupted you, knowing the answer before saying it.
“Madja said we can’t” you reminded him, although he already knew. “Oh God. Az, it’s coming. What do we do? I’m having a baby. I’m having a baby!”
Indeed, one of the first things Madja had advised you against was winnowing while pregnant. So close to the date, it would only trigger an early labor – and on the date, it would be dangerous to the baby and you. Rhysand would be back in Velaris by then, probably thinking you two were just fine and happy together once more.
And winnowing away to warn him and bring someone was out of the equation, since he wouldn’t be leaving you for a while now.
So Azriel gathered himself together and gave you a hesitant smile.
“We can do it” Azriel whispered, not sure of the truth behind his words.
“What?”
“I’m not leaving you. We’re here together, and we can do it. Madja told us what it’s like” Azriel tried to sound confident for you, for the both of you, but it came out as a question.
“We’re having a baby”
“We’re having a baby”
The first rays of sun entered through the empty space where the door was as you stared into his eyes. You could risk winnowing back and losing the baby and your life, or you could send away Azriel and hope he made it in time back with Madja or any other healer. Neither of those options felt like surviving to you, so you nodded at him and willed that tear to be the last one.
Azriel leaned in and kissed you softly. His lips were salty, from his tears or your own, and kind. While his shadows brushed every available part of your body, you let yourself forget about the closing wound, about the trembling of your knees and the pain in your belly.
Kissing him would always feel like the first time, like fireworks and Starfall. His nosed brushed your own and his tongue deepened the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, the hair there already covered in sweat. Even it was cold with the morning breeze, you were ready to get out of your body.
The kiss ended way too soon, just as another kick, or contraction, hit you harder than before. You sucked a breath and almost stumbled to the ground.
Azriel was quick to roll his sleeves up, lowering you until you were laying on the ground. Looking up at him, he gave you reassuring smile and hesitant nod.
“We’re having a baby” he squeezed your shoulder.
You tried to smile as another contraction hit and the first scream broke the silent morning.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
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mrs-dr-reid · 2 months ago
Text
Scary Dog Privilege
(A Wolverine Fic)
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Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader
Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for
Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)
A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).
Word Count: 4419
———————————————————————
This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!
It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.
She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.
Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.
Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”
Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.
Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”
He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.
Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”
Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”
She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”
The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”
Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.
Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.
“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”
Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.
In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.
He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.
That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.
Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of her dress clothes slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”
Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.
Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.
While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.
Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”
He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.
After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.
Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.
He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.
Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.
Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”
He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”
Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.
Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.
If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.
Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.
He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.
As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.
As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”
Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?
Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”
He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.
The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”
He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.
She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.
They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.
When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”
Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.
He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”
Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.
She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?
As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.
“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.
Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.
Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.
She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”
She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.
Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.
Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.
Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:
“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”
Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”
Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.
She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”
Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”
Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.
“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.
A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.
Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.
She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.
Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.
Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.
Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”
A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”
Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,
“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.
Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”
He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”
Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”
He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.
His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.
Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.
He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.
Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.
“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.
Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”
She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.
Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.
When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.
Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”
Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.
“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.
Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.
Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.
As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.
———————————————————————
MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters
Let me know in the comments if you want to be added
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shouyuus · 22 days ago
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(from prev blog) anon asked: Happy bday!! This is my first time using tumblr so idek if this is the right place to ask or if it’s too late! But I was wondering if you could write a Zayne x reader drabble for your 30 event 🤍 I saw someone make a rose out of snow by pressing snow on a card and wrapping it around a stick; I think it’d be so cute for Zayne to do that for the reader while they’re walking back home or smthing (even tho he could use his evol this is cuter 😭)
一翦玫 (one cut rose)
zayne; fluff; i rly said fuck the word limit with this one whoops
─── 黎深 THE MORNING DAWNS in a painful, world-swallowing blue, not a wish or whisper of clouds in sight, and Zayne knows that it’ll be cold enough to blister. He can always feel the winter creeping into his bones, twining between his muscles till they ache for something, for anything.
You’re bleary in his arms when he shakes you awake, and the way you peer up at him through sleep-heavy lashes makes his entire world shimmer down to the size of this bedroom, of your tiny groan as you try to bury your face in his pillow and swat him away.
“C’mon. I’ll walk you,” he says, voice indulgent in the way it only is when he’s speaking to you.
The snow crunches fresh and true underfoot, and he watches as you bloom beneath the robin’s egg sky, head tilting back, your breath twisting up in a thin spiral of white mist as you let out a long breath.
“It’s so beautiful out!”
“Careful, or you’ll slip,” he admonishes, tugging you off a small snowbank back onto the sidewalk. You pout up at him even as he adjusts your scarf.
“Killjoy…” you mutter, and Zayne scoffs, tugging on his own turned up collar.
You pass by an old man selling flowers on the street corner, and you skip ahead to press a bill into his hand, telling him to keep warm even as he smiles and hands you a flower. Zayne watches, a tender happiness threading up his throat as you turn back to hand him the flower.
“For your desk,” you say, “to add some color, or else people are gonna think you’ve got no personality.”
Zayne takes the flower and studies it, a rose in shocking lemon-rind yellow. He brings it up to his nose.
“Thanks.”
You grin up at him, looking pleased and mischievous both.
“Now you owe me a flower too!” you say. Zayne regards you with a contemplative sort of look before turning and continuing down the street. You pout, jogging after him.
“Fine, fine — you don’t have to give me a flower — I was just —”
“You’ll get one,” he says, reaching into his pocket for a credit card. Stooping down towards a mound of untouched snow, he scoops up a thin layer on the card and begins his work, pressing each layer around the previous one, using the heat of his hand to melt the “petals” till they curl into one single snow-white rose.
You gasp as he finishes his work, dusting his hands off on his jacket.
“It’s… beautiful! But… how am I gonna carry if there’s no stem?”
At this, Zayne tsks, summoning his Evol, and you watch with bright eyes as a crystaline stem forms from the base of the rose, extending out, glimmering leaves unfurling in ice as he hands the flower to you. You take it between delicate fingers and smile as you lean in to take a whiff.
“It won’t smell like a rose,” Zayne says, tucking his hands back into his pockets, watching as you stare down at the miraculous flower, “that’s not something my Evol can do just yet.”
But your smile is brilliant as a winter’s morning as you turn back towards him, clutching the flower to your chest, “It’s okay — it smells like winter!”
“Does it now?” Zayne asks, amusement twinkling behind his eyes, “And what exactly does winter smell like?”
You twirl the white rose between careful fingers before shooting him a truly heart-stopping wink —
“It smells like you.”
final wc: 604 || be part of my taglist!
a/n: a few words of explanation -- the trend that anon is asking about can be see here, its rly very cute. also, the title of this fic is a "play" on the popular 一剪梅, aka the "xue hua piao piao" song LMFAO, where i changed the "梅" meaning "plum" from the song title to “玫" from '玫瑰" or "rose" since both 梅 and 玫 are pronounced "mei3". i thought it was a fun little thing to do and the actual song itself is about winter and snow so! :)
taglist: @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies
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jacespookiebear · 2 years ago
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.ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 1
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summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen. 
pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader
warnings : incest, sexual content, tension, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, events do take place in hotd, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D
Masterlist
The dreary atmosphere in the chambers that were occupied by Queen Aemma’s birthing was soon vanished and was replaced by sudden cries that did not belong to the Prince Baelon but a Princess.
“Your grace, it appears she had carried another babe. It is a girl,” the maester carefully wrapped the babe in a cloth before bringing her to King Viserys, “a very healthy one, in fact, what will she be named?” Viserys couldn’t believe his eyes as the babe kept wailing for her mother but in an instant, he held the babe with much affection and love while he cried.
On that day, the realm has lost their Queen and Prince but has gained another Princess, named (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Gently pressing your hands onto the old dragon, Meraxes, who you bonded with for years now. You began caressing her white scales as she leans into your touch—wanting to keep being the eye of your attention before you pulled away and started heading your way back to the castle in your personal carriage
“Meraxes seems to be growing even more each year, my Princess. Might be even larger than the Black Dread soon enough.” Lysanna, your Lady-in-Waiting, nervously utter as you laughed. You have been forcing her to feed Meraxes for weeks now—you never seen the young girl sweat so much while handing your dragon food.
You handed your gloves to Lysanna for safekeeping and she pocketed them in her coat. You both reached inside the castle. You had wanted to check up on your sister as she was to be expected in labor soon but first you headed to your father’s chambers to see how well he’s doing.
You opened the doors with Lysanna by your side, “Ah! My young girl…what brings you here, my sweet child?” your father, Viserys, lights up to see his daughter visiting.
Like always, he’s sitting by the windows and sculpting. The architecture has increased in size each year ever since you were just a babe. He would always lecture about his creation with you on his lap. Till this day, it still amazes you that he created this.
“I do not need a reason to see my father. I was on my way back from the dragon keep,” you sat in front of him, raising your hands to grab his in order to place a kiss on it, “Meraxes also wishes good fortune. She even cried out for my attentiveness today.”
To your words of Meraxes, Lysanna slightly giggles.
“Of course,” he brings his attention back to his sculpting, “you remind that dragon of Rhaenys Targaryen, the wife of Aegon the Conqueror. Whether you like to believe it or not.”
It is true. You have been often compared to the late Queen Rhaenys Targaryen, you both shared similarities. Perhaps that is the main reason why Meraxes chose you to be her new dragon rider.
“Have you considered the Queen’s offer?”
You turned your head back to your father—who looked rather serious. You could only gulp and rub your hands anxiously, “about…the betrothal to Aegon..? I can’t say I had put much thought to it.”
The atmosphere in the room changed quickly, you felt. You didn’t want to spend your precious time with your father talking about betrothals. You wished to be free from marriage and children as much as you can.
“The Princess is right, my King,” Lysanna spoke up, there was no evidence of nervousness in her voice, “she has been under much stress due to Princess Rhaenyra’s upcoming labors..”
The thought of marrying your young brother scared you tremendously, knowing how he treats the handmaidens—including you, Helaena, and even Lysanna. You did not wish to be betrothed just yet, especially to a man like your brother.
You cleared your throat and sighed, “If you do not wish to be betrothed, my sweet girl then I understand,” your father promises as you looked up with eyes that were prickled with small tears, “I will give you all the time in the world.”
“Thank you, my King.”
Although there was a slight crack in your tone, you certainly appreciated your father’s patience and understanding. You seemed to feel guilt for wanting to put off opportunity of marriage for as long as you can but you are certain you won’t have much time before you are forced to be betrothed.
With your thoughts disappearing, Viserys only looked at you with a soft smile and placed a kiss on your cheek. You got up from your seat and headed out with Lysanna.
After leaving his chambers, you walked all over the castle to find Rhaenyra’s chambers, you pass by lords and ladies who would bow out of curtesy. It was clear they all know you had just visited the King. As you place your hand over Lysanna’s in an affectionate way,
“Thank you for stepping in. I could not last another second talking about marriage, especially with father.”
Lysanna looked over to you—she was obviously feeling upset for you. She had voiced her concerns many times about how she did not want you to be married off to Aegon. No—you deserve better than that.
“If I could, I would do anything for you to not be wedded off to that boy,” she said with ease, paying no mind to the people around you both, “I would rather have you be betrothed to my brother just so we could be sisters and both be ladies of Winterfell.”
At the thought of living out the rest of your days in Winterfell, you could only laugh. Maybe your life would’ve been more easier and happier if you were to be living in the North. Lysanna had told you many stories about Winterfell, it only left you wanting to visit the cold Castle even more. It even meant you could always be with Lysanna and see the snow everyday—you always wanted to see the snow.
As the doors that belonged to Rhaenyra’s chambers opened, you were attacked by the limbs of the young princes and their clinginess towards you and Lysanna. They quickly wrapped themselves around you both.
“Auntie! Have you just came back from riding Meraxes?! I saw you both flying in the sky! I was waving too,” Luke exclaimed. With swiftness, he was already up in Lysanna’s arms. You and Lysanna only giggled at the young boy and his eagerness.
You gave his forehead a big kiss before walking over to the couches that were placed in the middle of the room to sit. “Indeed, my dear nephew. I even had Lysanna to feed Meraxes today,” Luke gasped at the statement, had he only been begging to touch the Silver Queen for weeks now. He feels betrayed that you let Lysanna feed him. “do not fret. You can mount her…if your mother only agrees.”
As you hear him whine at the agreement—knowing Rhaenyra would never let him or Jace near Meraxes until they were at least twenty, you see Jace only sit right next to you and place his head on your shoulders.
“Mother is starting her labors. She had just left and even wished to see you before you left the castle,” Jace muttered, though you could see how scared he is for his mother. Placing a short kiss on his head, “I shall stay and company you and your brother until she has come back.” You said as he smiles at your efforts.
Watching Lysanna and Luke play on the floor—both very indulged in the wooden figures that are scattered, you could hear your nephew shouting battle cries as Lysanna merely plays along. But still, you worry for your sister—you wished you came sooner and possibly be there for her during her labors.
Jace suddenly spoke up and forced your attention back onto him, “Aegon had said..that you were to be betrothed to him. Is it true, Princess?”
With the young boy’s confused look, you could only sit in silence and grimace at the fact that your brother had the audacity to spread such gossip to your innocent nephews. Your thoughts were soon to be interrupted by the Prince,
“Please don’t marry him!” he cried out, it brought Lysanna and Luke’s attention, wondering why is Jace getting so emotional. “He said that if you do then I won’t be able to see you again, you will be locked up in your shared chambers and occupied being swollen with children.”
How dare Aegon say such inappropriate things to him!? You would never let yourself be treated with such disrespect, especially by your own family.
Jace continues to plead, you quickly hold him in your arms as a way to calm him down. “What did I say about never believing a word Aegon says?” you smiled down at the boy, you had to put up a front in order to not let him see how hurt you were from those words. “He is only jesting and I promise you, I will not leave you. If he says another word about this then ignore it and don’t let him tease you, alright?”
As the boy nods his head, he spoke up once more, “If I could, I would ask to be betrothed to you, Targaryens do marry each other and that would mean I could be your sworn protector.” the words settled in and all you could do was smile and mess with his curls. You didn’t expect him to answer back but it left you feeling rather troubled.
After awhile of waiting, you felt yourself drift off on the couch but was quick awaken from the sound of the chamber doors opening—expecting it to be your sister but it was only the Commander of City Watch, you gave Ser Harwin a smile when he walked in.
“Princess,” he bowed his head before the boys made their to greet him. You nodded your head and out of respect, you fixed your position on the couch.
“Oh! How could we forget?!” Luke exclaimed before making his way to the counter that held a huge black pot, “Auntie! Ser Harwin had taken us to the dragonpit while you were away, we had collected an egg for the baby! Come Liz, you must see too!”
You wanted to see the color of the egg so badly so you quickly made your way towards the kids with Lysanna, watching Jace lift up the lid and it revealed the egg—it was certainly gorgeous, the whole egg was a dark colored that reminded you of the Black Dread’s scales. The egg must’ve been from one of the several clutches of eggs that Meraxes had laid during this month, she has been laying as much eggs as she can but it only made your father happier than ever.
In awe, you still kept your focus on the egg before Lysanna had nudged your shoulder. “Be careful, my Princess. You will burn yourself if you are too close.”
“We thought of a few names for the dragon! But of course that is up to the baby to decide.”
“Very well. Make sure the egg is placed in the cradle soon,” you voiced out and let Jace put the lid back on before watching them lead the commander onto the floor to play with the toys. They seemed to become even more happier now that Harwin Strong has come back but if they were happy then so are you. He acted more like a father to them and you weren’t the only one to have noticed, almost everyone in court seems to think so—especially the Queen. Unlike the other lords and ladies from court, you do not bother in such gossips about their parentage. They are still Targaryen, that is what matters.
“And, he sees a big scary dragon!” Jace exclaimed, playing with the toys, and you smiled at how invested he was in the game. The door suddenly opened and it revealed to be your older sister. Ser Harwin stood up as your sister and her husband walked in. You watched Jace and Luke quickly run to show mother the dragon egg. Rhaenyra’s hair was damp with sweat and messy, she looks completely worn out.
“Dear sister, I hope the labors went well. Let your mother rest, children.”
“Thank you, young sister. I must admit, it was rather more discomforting than the last.” She smiles, leaning into your touch and you can feel the sweat that was painted on her skin. It felt good to be by her side once again, even if it’s been a few hours that you both were separated.
“Mother..look,” Jace said as she moved to find a seat. Rhaenyra glanced at the dragon egg as she carefully sat down with Ser Harwin’s help. The Commander of the City’s Watch was always so kind to all of you. “We chose an egg for the baby.” Luke finished for Jace. In Laenor’s arms was the new child to your sister’s family. The thought of her having a big family warmed your heart—you felt the possibility that you were experiencing baby fever.
“Ahh…that looks like the perfect one.”
“It’s not everyday a dragon egg leaves the dragon pit, my Princess. I thought it was best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin explained. Rhaenyra nodded, reassured that there was someone to watch over them, “Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Jace closed the pot and you focused your eyes back on the newborn child.
“Another boy, I heard.” Ser Harwin softly said, and you watched as Rhaenyra smiled, confirming. As Laenor was coddling the babe, whispering sweet things. You heard him clearly, “You will make a fine knight,” he had said. The thought of the three boys becoming knights once they were more older was a fine one for sure.
“Do not worry, sister. You will soon have a girl, I’m sure of it.” Rhaenyra laughed at your comment, giving your hand a quick squeeze. She had always wanted a daughter and you knew this.
“Might I?” Ser Harwin asked, kindly.
With silence disappearing quickly, Rhaenyra uttered, ”Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”
The Velaryon didn’t argue. He simply gave the babe to Ser Harwin before he started to rock the babe gently. “Joffrey, is it?” he asked, Laenor nodded. The name left you a little baffled, it was an unusual name for a Velaryon nor Targaryen but you did not want to voice your opinion.
Rhaenyra cleared her throat and laid her eyes on Lysanna, “Lady Lysanna, I apologize on behalf of the rejection to your wish on riding back home to the North,” from what you heard, your lady-in-waiting had asked to attend back home once again to celebrate with her brother who become the next Warden of the North, “I am sure the Queen has her reasons but I will make sure to speak of it with council on the morrow.”
Lysanna gave your sister a faint smile and nodded her head. You knew she had just come back from the entombment of her father—Lord Rickon Stark, whom had passed away. She received word from her brother, Cregan, not too long that he wishes to see her again. You had no idea why Alicent would even reject the idea, considering they are distant relatives from her mother’s side.
“The Queen knows what is best for me..she had promised my mother that she would look after me during my time here in King’s Landing.”
Even if Lysanna says those words with a grin on her face, you can tell she was still upset. She had missed her family dearly and wishes to be back home permanently but you knew there was a slim chance that Alicent would allow that to happen.
“I assure you, you will ride back to Winterfell. I will talk to the King..his word is above the Queen’s.” You reassured the young lady, Lysanna was truly in debt to you and your sister.
“Father, may I hold Joffrey?”
Suddenly, you spot Luke clinging to the baby, trying to hold him before getting yanked away by Jace and his father. “No, no, no.” Laenor fiercely exclaimed, dragging them both out, “Off to the dragon pit, you two.”
“But I want to hold Joffrey!” Luke whined.
You let out a loud laugh and ushered Lysanna to follow them, “Please escort the princes to the dragon pit. I shall meet you three there, I must talk to my sister on an important matter.”
Lysanna quickly glanced over to Rhaenyra then back to you before nodded and left with the kids as Laenor closes the door behind him.
Once they left, you could only sigh in relief. You had longed to talk to Rhaenyra and she quickly noticed your sudden change in attitude after she had excused the Commander of City’s Watch, holding young Joffrey when he gave him to her before leaving, “What has been troubling you, young sister?”
You fiddled with your thumbs in response, not knowing how to speak about the topic of marriage, labors, and children.
“Father brought it up again.”
With that, Rhaenyra immediately knew. Of course she knew, she was the one who quickly stood to your defense when the Queen had first proposed the idea. She let it be known that she was your voice in court and always stated that you will wed under your own terms. Afterall, your ten-and-fifth nameday was coming up soon and you were at the age of being wedded off, Alicent made sure you had known that.
Rhaenyra snaked her unoccupied hand to hold yours, she wanted to comfort you. Truly, she loves you so much. You were the only thing she now has of the memory of your mother and it was quite known that Rhaenyra was protective of you.
“Listen to me, sister,” Rhaenyra whispered, softly, “you will have the choice to yourself, I will make sure of it. You can put off the decision for as long as you want, I was ten-and-seventh when I was betrothed.”
Her reassurance only helped little. You know she will do her best to keep you safe, she always showed this. But the Queen will always do everything in her power to have it her way. Ever since you were just a babe, she was so persistent to take care of you like you were one of her own children—even referred you as her “eldest daughter” way too many times in court and it had always left Rhaenyra with a sour feeling.
“A wise woman had once told me,” Rhaenyra lets out a sharp sigh before continuing, “that we both have royal wombs and you will lie in that bed soon enough, sweet sister. This discomfort is how we serve the realm and with that, I had now understood what she had said. But of course..merely hours later, that wise woman had died in childbed.”
You could only take a deep breath and breathe out slowly, you did not want to cry but your own body was betraying you.
“Was it mother who spoke those words?”
Rhaenyra only gave you a fainted smile before nodding, “She would’ve been so proud on what you had become, dear sister.” Those words completely broke you and you could no longer hide the warm tears streaming down your cheeks.
Truly, you missed your mother and years after years you had blamed yourself for the death of your twin brother and mother. As though you were named to be the Realm’s Beauty and Undying—you knew deep down the Realm had longed for your deceased brother, not you.
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Oh my gosh, it took me about a month to write this lol! I am honestly going by hotd’s plot and a few of my ideas for the story. I do not want to fully go by fire and blood because I want this story to be less angst hehe. My first time writing, so sorry if it sucks! I apologize 😭
2K notes · View notes
mountttmase · 11 months ago
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Every Second Of Everyday
Note - I’m running out of fics 😭 this one was never supposed to see the light of day but here we are. I hope you enjoy and I’d love some feedback 🩷
Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader
Word count - 6k
Warnings - angst, fluff & smut
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‘So yeah I mean Its really easy, you just have to buy in the dip but obviously you need to know when that is, I can totally teach you if you want me too”
‘Oh yeah sounds… super interesting’
Not.
Listening to a man you’d only met properly an hour and a half ago waffle on about crypto currency and NFT’s was not how you imagined your Wednesday would be going. You had no idea what he was going on about, and you didn’t care either. Disappointment had flooded through you from about ten minutes into the date, he seemed so different from when you’d been messaging. He barely asked you anything about yourself and spent the whole time trying to explain, or rather boast, to you what he did for a living.
‘I’m just popping to the loo, be back in a sec’ he smiled as he stood from his chair. You smiled back and nodded lightly, watching him walk away from you as you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thankful you were finally alone but not two seconds later you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You quickly pulled it out to check it wasn’t an emergency, having not looked at it the whole way through lunch, not wanting to be rude, but the name that flashed up was the last person you thought it would be.
Mason
What the hell did he want?
You and Mason were… complicated. You knew how you felt about him and you were pretty sure he felt the same but for some reason nothing has ever come of it. You’d grown up best friends with Lauren James and her bother Reece, so it was inevitable you’d meet Mason sooner or later. Reece had always mentioned him growing up to the point where you felt like you knew him already sometimes, but you kept yourself slightly separate from that part of their lives, wanting to be the escape from football.
The moment of you meeting Mason came just under six months ago. The season had been over for a week and Reece was throwing a party at his house meaning Lauren insisted you came with her. Reece introduced you to Mason within the first ten minutes of you stepping in the door and you were hooked on him from the first look.
You obviously knew who he was but you tried to play it cool and make out you didn’t. Mason bought your calm exterior hook, line and sinker, telling you that you weren’t like most of the girls he meets at these things. You spent most of that night in his company, laughing at his stupid attempts to make you smile and falling for those gorgeous brown eyes every time you looked in them. He wasn’t anything like you thought he’d be, you were expecting an ego the size of a truck to match his perfect face but as time went on you realised he was just a normal guy who did a not so normal job. You exchanged numbers at the end of the night, him kissing your cheek promising to text you the very next day and you didn’t expect anything from him with how busy he was yet when you woke up the next day with a message from him your tummy had erupted into butterflies.
It had all started out so well, cute texts here and there and promises of seeing each other as soon as you could but nothing ever materialised. You got it, he was Mason Mount and you were you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The texts mostly dried up, only checking in with each other here and there and only seeing each other at social events. You’d made peace with the fact nothing probably would ever happen yet that didn’t stop him from getting his way when he wanted.
He would always make eye contact with you from across the room when you were together, smirking cheekily when he noticed the blush taking over your cheeks as his come to bed eyes raked over you hungrily. He liked the fact he could do that to you and he seemed to make it his mission to tease the life out of you. His hands always finding your waist as he passed behind you, or sitting as close as he could to you on the sofa so he could run his fingers over your thighs.
You loved and hated every second of it.
You thought he was unbelievably attractive and it only took a flash of his perfect smile to get you hot under the collar. Every time his tongue poked out between his lips to wet them made your knees weak and you were pretty certain no other boy had made you feel like this before. It wasn’t all bad, and you soon fell for his goofy playful side. Admiring the way he was always making people, yourself included, laugh at his stupid jokes and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t have a fear of making himself look like a prat. You found him awfully endearing when he wasn’t trying to get under your skin so the stupid little crush you had on him didn’t face in the slightest.
But in the last two months it had become unbearable. He was a lot braver with his actions and one night after a little bit too much to drink he’d cornered you in the kitchen, pressing feather light kisses to the top of your shoulder from behind you and slowly making his way up your neck as you were trying grab a glass. No words were exchanged as he pressed his lips to your skin, knowing he’d followed you in hoping to catch you alone and If it hadn’t been for the loud crash coming from the other room you would have let him carry on. It seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in though and after giving you a quick wink he turned on his heel and left you stood flabbergasted.
You told yourself that night that whatever game he was playing was over. You weren’t one to stick up for yourself, clearly, but you couldn’t stand another second of him having this weird hold over you without it leading anywhere. The next morning you dowloaded a dating app, telling yourself you needed to get out there and meet some different people and see what happens. Show him that he wasn’t free to keep dangling ideas in front of your face without acting on them.
Which is how you need up in this situation today.
Charlie had seemed nice when you matched him a few days ago. He was cute and and he made you laugh but being sat opposite him was a complete other story. This was the third different date you’d been on in a month and you were starting to loose all hope of finding anyone that made you feel a fraction of what Mason did.
You sighed as you unlocked your phone to see what he wanted but your blood ran cold as you opened up the message.
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It was you.
Well the back of you anyway, sat in the exact place you were right now. You slowly turned round and your eyes locked onto his right away, sat three tables back and slightly off to the left. You whipped back around before he could do anything else and tried to calm you racing heart.
What are the bloody chances?
As soon as you finished your thought, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Mason coming through.
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Why is this happening to me?
You chose to ignore it, locking your phone and turning it over, hoping he would see you’re not in the mood to talk to him. He didn’t get the hint though and you groaned under your breath as his final text come through.
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You hated to admit that his assertiveness made you clench your thighs together, but there was no way in hell you were going home with him. Well that’s what you told yourself anyway.
Charlie returned from the loo soon after and after a small back and forth, you agreed to let him pay for lunch. He was putting his pin in when you saw Mason heading for the door, sending you a small smile as he made his way outside. You continued looking at him as he said goodbye to his friend and made his way over to his car. The only thought in your brain being about how good he looked in something as simple as a black T-shirt and cargos, one of your favourite things to see him in and you only snapped out of your trance when Charlie let out a small cough.
‘Sorry, I was in my own little world there’ you apologised with a smile and he just smiled in return. ‘You up too much the rest of the day?’ You enquired, hoping he was so you could make a swift exit and thankfully for you he nodded.
‘Unfortunately yes, I need to get back home and check my stocks, but I’ve really enjoyed this, we’ll have to do it again some time’ he smiled and rather than let him down gently you just nodded, gathering your things so you could get out of there and away from him as quickly as possible. He walked you to the door and put his arm around you awkwardly before leaving a light kiss on your cheek. ‘See you around then y/n’. He smiled and all you could do was smile back before he walked off, thankfully in the opposite direction than you needed.
Now you were rid of him, there was one other person you needed to send on their way before you could go home and think over your life decisions whilst drowing yourself in the tub of ben and Jerrys in your freezer.
You eyes scanned over to Masons car, still parked up, and you walked to him slowly. Telling yourself to be strong and get it over with quickly and once you were at his drivers side window you tapped on it lightly three times before the window came down revealing a slightly confused looking Mason.
‘What you doing? your doors on the other side’ he winked ‘come on, get in’
‘Yeah about that, I don’t think it’s a good idea I’m just gonna head home. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing anyway’ you told him. Not meaning for it to come out sounding so bitter and clearly Mason picked up on it, his smile quickly turning into a frown.
‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’
You just shrugged and he studied your face for a second before he opened his door. You stepped back slightly but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, slotting you in-between his legs as he sat side on.
‘Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages. Why don’t you wanna hang out?’ He asked quietly. He was giving you his best puppy dog eyes they were really working on you, he looked genuinely upset you didn’t want to spend time with him. His hands planted themselves on your waist, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under your top. His gentle touch was making you fold and he knew it. “Please y/n, just for a little while? I promise I’ll take you home after’ he pouted, and you cursed at yourself in your head for giving into him so quickly but you couldn’t think straight when his hands were on you and he was looking at you like he was.
‘Fine, but I can’t stay long’ you lied. You had all day free, you just weren’t sure you’d be able to handle a whole afternoon of his antics.
He gave you that cheeky smile he always did, but released you so you could jump into his passenger seat. The whole ride to his house was perfect, this was the Mason you liked, no teasing or getting you flustered for his own entertainment. He asked you how you’d been and he seemed genuinely interested when you answered, a stark contrast from the lunch you had just endured and he seemed just as excited to fill you in on everything you’d missed out on in his life recently.
Once you’d arrived at his, he led you through to the kitchen to grab you both a drink, telling you to make yourself comfy on his sofa. You’d been to his house a handful of times but always with other people, today being the first time it was just the two of you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. You tried to relax into the corner of the L shaped sofa, telling yourself you’re just catching up with a friend and there was nothing to fret over. Mason soon returned and placed your drink down on his coffee table before flopping down right next to you, his thigh pressed right up against yours and his arm resting across the back of the sofa behind you. You could feel the tips of his fingers stroking over the material of your top making you even more dazed than before.
‘So you gonna tell me who that was you were having lunch with?’ He asked. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was on a mission to poke fun at you now and you sighed quietly. Knowing it was too good to be true that maybe for once you could just be normal with each other.
‘Just a guy’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Why do you care?’
‘Just curious’ he smirked. You knew he was trying to get at you so you thought you’d try and match his energy.
‘His name is Charlie, he’s a crypto billionaire’ you tried to say confidently but as soon as the words flew out your mouth you wished you could of stuffed them back in. Like Mason would care how much money he had? Charlie didn’t even have a fraction of a billion but you were desperate at that point to make him a little jealous. You mentally face palmed yourself when you saw Masons eyebrow twitch up into somewhat of an ammused smirk.
‘Right… and how did you meet Charlie the crypto king?’
You didn’t want to tell him how, but the longer you sat there trying to think of another way you knew he wouldn’t believe you, so you just went with the truth.
‘We matched on hinge’ you said quietly, avoiding his gaze, but you head shot up when you heard his little giggle. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh come off it y/n, what’s a girl like you doing looking for guys on hinge?’
‘What do you mean a girl like me?’ You scowled. You were starting to get really annoyed with him, hoping he’d choose his next words carefully so you didn’t blow up in his face.
‘I just didn’t think a gorgeous girl like yourself would look twice at any of the guys on there’ he said with a shrug. You tried to brush past the compliment but you could feel your cheeks burning up already, knowing it was giving Mason a kick to see the effect his words had on you. ’He was nowhere near good enough for you, I could tell by the way you were sitting you weren’t feeling it. Its like you’re boredom was radiating across the room’
‘Oh yeah cause you know so much about me Mason’
‘Id like to think so, yeah’ he winked, the hand resting on his thigh now making its way onto yours. You had to ball your fists at your sides in order to keep calm. ‘If you wanted a lunch date you could of always called me, I know you’d rather have me sat opposite you’
‘You’re unbelievable’ you growled, finally rising to you feet and and making a beeline for the door.
‘Hey come on y/n don’t be like this, I’m only messing’ He teased as he jumped up after you and reached out for your arm to stop you, but you’d finally had enough. Seeing red, you yanked your arm out of his grasp and turned to face him. Ready to give him a piece of your mind.
‘You know what Mason? Yeah maybe he was a bit boring but at least he had the guts to ask me out’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘All you do is lead me on, you make me feel like you like me and then you go cold on me its fucking exhausting. Do you think I want to be meeting up with randomers off hinge?’ You barked at him. He seemed slightly taken aback by your outburst but his eyes were looking at you hungrily. He’d never seen this side of you before and he was loving it. ‘You’re so full of yourself all the time, thinking you can just invite me back here and i’ll come running? I’m so sick of your shit-‘
Before you could think about what was happening, Mason had pulled you into him and his lips were on yours. Slowly walking you back until you were pressed up against the nearest wall, one hand on your waist, the other lightly wrapped around your throat.
He kissed better than you ever imagined he could and you cursed yourself for moaning into his mouth. The feel of his smile on your lips frustrated you even more than you thought possible and his mouth soon detached from yours as he flipped you round. Your chest now pressed to the wall, his front leaning into your back and you could just start to feel him hardening against your bum.
‘This what you wanted from me yeah?’ He whispered into your ear. You turned your face to try and look at him over your shoulder, but his lips on the other side of your neck made you close your eyes. He could feel the way your breathing was getting shallower as his fingertips raked up your side and he was eager to see just how far he could push you. ‘You still sick of my shit or you want me to keep going?’
‘Keep going’ you whimpered quietly, the words coming out your mouth before your brain could figure out what you wanted to say, and you felt him smile against your neck.
‘Good girl’
‘Im not your good girl, mase’ you countered but you knew you were just lying yourself. You always had been and you always would be.
He turned you back round and tucked your loose hairs behind your ears before leaning down and kissing you again lightly. ‘We’ll see’ he breathed into your mouth. ‘Go sit back down for me yeah?’ He asked but you waited a moment, both looking at each other to see who would break first but you could tell he wasn’t budging so you silently made you way back over to his sofa. Your fingertips touching your lips as you still couldn’t believe after all this time you’d finally kissed him.
He stood studying you for a few seconds before following you over, however instead of taking up his seat from before, he knelt down infront of you. Parting your knees and slotting himself in between them. His hands came to rest on either sides of your hips and his face now dangerously close to yours.
‘I know we’ve got some things we need to talk about, but can you please let me make you feel good first?’ He whispered, kissing you again softly. ‘I think it’s just best we get this out our system cause there’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything serious if all I can think about is what’s under these clothes’
You were having an internal battle, obviously you wanted him but would it just make everything afterwards more difficult? Was he just saying this to get one over on you? He could see you were struggling with what to do so he kissed your neck trying to show you how much he needed you.
‘Please baby, just a taste’ he whispered just below your ear and you felt your whole body erupt in goosebumps. Fuck he was good. It was like he knew exactly what to say and do to you. You knew you were wrapped around his finger but up until now you hadn’t realised how much. ‘You can trust me I promise’
Could you trust him?
The only thing on your mind was the thought of him getting you down to your underwear and then him telling you it’s all a joke. That this was just a new low for him to try and get one over on you but you knew Reece would kick him into next week if he ever tried something like that and the look in Masons eyes also settled you a bit.
You wanted to say no but you you were too caught up in him finally giving you what you wanted. Thinking to yourself, even if this is all you ever got from him then you’d find a way to live with it. You just couldn’t refuse him when he was in between your thighs, promising to make it worth you while. So you nodded and kissed him back, a little deeper this time, parting your lips so he could slip in tongue in when he silently asked for permission.
God he was so good at this, you thought as his hands came to rest at the waistband of you jeans. Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner? if I had to pick between breathing or kissing Mason, I think id choose the latter.
His fingers slowly made their way to the button on your jeans, and he pulled back, looking at your face to make sure you were still comfortable. You nodded at him so he carried on, unzipping you before tapping your thigh so you would lift your hips in order for him to rid you of them. Next to come off was your top, leaving you with only your bra on underneath, thanking the lord you’d decided to put a nice one on this morning. Feeling your slight discomfort at being the only one without clothes on, he peeled his own top from his body, tossing it over the back of his sofa.
You’d seen pictures of his body before and knew what it looked like under certain things but seeing it like this in person made your mouth water. He was flawless.
His kisses resumed and then he made his way down your neck, across your collar bones and down your chest. As he mouth was nearing where you needed him, you sank back into the cushions. You felt his lips dance across the band of your underwear before he hooked his thumbs under and pulled them down you legs.
‘So fucking perfect’ he murmured between kisses over your hips and thighs, the sound of his voice made your tummy flip with anticipation.
You were torn between looking at him or laying back and just enjoying it, so you grabbed and cushion and stuffed it behind you, giving you the perfect view of what he was about to do to you. You were growing impatient with his gentle kisses on you inner thighs, wishing he would just burry his face in you already so you threaded your fingers through his hair and attempted to guide him to where you needed him. You felt him smirk against you, placing one final kiss against you before giving you what you wanted.
He teased your folds apart slowly with his tongue, and when he made contact with your clit, circling over it slowly a few times, you let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
You couldn’t help his name falling off your lips and he moaned into you at the sound. A sound he’d been waiting forever to hear. You felt your breathing deepen as he got into his rhythm, bringing his fingers up to spread you apart even further. Your moans for him only growing louder and it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going, eventually slipping those same fingers inside of you to heighten your pleasure.
‘You taste so fucking good’ he growled and pumped his fingers into you a little faster, hitting the spot that made you cry out. ‘That feel good baby?’
‘Yes Mase, so fucking good, please keep going im so close’
If you weren’t so horrifically turned on then you might have been embarrassed about how quickly he’d managed to get you to this point but you didn’t care. You felt too good to think about anything else.
‘Come on baby, be good for me and cum’ he moaned against you and you thought in that moment you you would have done anything he asked you to. Why did he have to be so good at everything?
It only took a few more seconds and you were cumming over his fingers, his mouth still working on you to ride you through it, and when he felt like you’re breathing had calmed down, he kissed his way back up your body to you lips. You let out a small hum as you tasted yourself on his lips, a slight giggle coming from you and you tried to hide in his neck out of embarrassment. He couldn’t help but laugh himself as he sat down next to you, pulling you into his lap, both slightly overwhelmed with what had just taken place. He reached behind him for the blanket he kept there, wrapping it around the both of you.
After a few moments of silence you felt his lips lightly press on your forehead before he muttered the words ‘i’m sorry’
Ah shit.
This was part you were dreading. The first thought coming to mind was him telling you he’s sorry for making you think the two of you could be anymore than you already were. You told yourself you were fine with it, but the feeling of your heart sinking told you you weren’t.
He must of felt your disappointment, his arm tightening around you slightly whilst his other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes looked soft and from the slight smile that played on his lips you thought it best to see what he had to say rather than get up and run.
‘All the cocky bullshit with you, it’s always just been a front. Truth is, the way you make me feel scares the shit out of me’ he told you gently. Your eyes pleaded with him to carry on, but the tsunami in his tummy was holding him back. He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes, figuring it might be easier to tell you how he felt if he wasn’t looking straight at you.
‘I’ve liked you from the first moment I saw you. Before that even’ he chuckled. ‘Recce talked about you all the time and I’ve always wanted to meet you but you make me more nervous than anyone else I’ve ever known. I think about you every second of everyday and I kick myself that I’ve never been able to just grow a pair and tell you’
You could feel his heart racing in his chest, the tempo matching your own at his words. You slowly stroked your thumb over his hand in an attempt to calm him so he could carry on, your gentle touches only making him fall for you even more.
‘I guess I just thought if we carried on the way we were then I’d still sort of have you. Like the fear of you rejecting me was worse than only having you a little bit’ he chuckled and you nuzzled into his neck a little at his confession. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel as bad as I did though, half the time I wasn’t even trying to tease you I just wanted to be near you. I know I should of just asked you how you felt but if you haven’t noticed I’m not all that smart sometimes’
You shifted on his lap so he’s had to look at you, you noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks from all of his confessions and all you wanted to do was kiss him. His smile mirrored your own and you were now ready to share your feelings in the same way he just had.
‘Why don’t you ask me now?’
‘Huh?’
‘Ask me how I feel about you’
He took in a deep breath and shook his head lightly with a smile, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. ‘How you do you feel about me, y/n?’
Come on girl, you got this.
‘I think about you every second of everyday, too’ you whispered, causing him to giggle and burry his head in your hair. ‘It’s true, I’ve always liked you Mase. Maybe I could have been a bit braver and told you first but I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t know for sure you liked me the way I like you and I guess I was kinda the same? I was alright with having you a little bit but that fear of rejection was holding me back’ you told him and you felt him nod into your hair and hold you that tiny bit closer. ‘I didn’t wanna go on dates with other guys but I couldn’t take not having you anymore and figured it would be a good distraction so I could move on from you but no one ever made me feel like you do’
He moved again so he could look at you, his thumb stroking over your jaw softly and a slight look of guilt dressed his face. ‘I’m sorry I made it get to that point I never meant to make you feel that way. I hated seeing you out with someone else today like it proper hurt but I suppose it gave me the kick up the backside i needed.’ you chucked and turned your face in his hand to kiss his palm. It felt amazing to finally be this close to him but the little voice in the back of your head was stopping you from fully enjoying it. Mason must have sensed your change and tilted your face back up towards his. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothings wrong, just what happens now? Where do we go from here?’
‘Well if you’d let me, I’d love to take you for dinner tonight. Like a proper date?’
‘Two dates with two different men in one day, what will people think of me’ you teased and he just laughed at your silliness.
‘Yeah well I’m saying this mornings one didn’t count. I have a funny feeling you won’t be seeing Charlie the crypto king any time soon’
You felt your face flush in embarrassment but his lips on your cheek made you smile. You snuggled into him more and he moved to lay down taking you with him and after a few moments of silence you felt his breathing getting heavier so you kissed his chest and settled down next to him.
‘Wake me up in ten minutes’ you heard him say softly and you tried to hold your giggle in at his antics.
‘Sure thing Mase’ you whispered and lent back as the face you adored slowly drifted off.
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theriverbeyond · 2 months ago
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Eat My Words and Then Swallow your Pride by silverapples (18+)
+ its sequel fic, Denial Ain't Just a River in Egypt (18+)
Gideon prides herself on being able to get anyone she wants in bed. But when it comes to Harrow, she’ll have to do some giving first.
I'm SO excited to have bound this series as part of @renegadeguild's Fanfic Writer's Appreciation Day (August 21) event, it is one of my absolute favorite fics and such a love letter to butch subs/bottoms everywhere.
Fandom: The Locked Tomb
Pairing: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Title font: Engravers MT
Body font: Garamond
Pages: 128
Size: Octavo letter
Case: Arrestox Bookcloth Black with hand-embossed silver foil, featuring cover art by me!
some rambling under the cut
i forgot to take good progress pics here because besides cutting the pages/the octavo size, this bind felt very standard/nothing much new was tried, construction wise -- but I DID draw the cover art with my mouse in photoshop because i couldn't find good royalty free art that fit the Vibe and this fic deserves a bangin cover.
I went with Gideon being collared by Harrow for the design because like, yeah. Of course I did. She deserves this.
I think one of the main artistic things I would change in the future (besides photographing it against a more contrasting background OOPS) is I think I'd want a thinner tip for the foiling, I think the summary on the back turned out okay but the spine text was a bit small for the tip I had, so it is a bit hard to read.
I really like the octavo size for shorter fics, especially for fics in the 5k-15k range depending on font size/art/etc. I wouldn't want to do a standard folio or even quarto with something this short just due to like... it would turn out magazine thin, but it looks cute as hell when turned pocket sized so I'm excited to have opened up a new realm of fics to bind!
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unknownperson246 · 2 months ago
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a/n: HEAR ME OUT. DUFF W/ A SIZE KINK BC THE READER’S SO MUCH SHORTER THAN HIM. ALSO YOURE SO FUKCJNG COOL HOW TF DO YOU GET MOTIVATION TO WRITE SO OFTEN ITS AMAZING DJDBSVHAABBAAKJABA
first of all, thank you!. I think the motivation is seeing people enjoying creativity not just in my fics but in other people's fics and that helps motivate me. Sometimes I may need a break but that’s rarely. I also really appreciate when people send me inbox requests which is also a factor of motivation for me.
also, I’m so sorry it’s late but I hope you enjoy it ❤️❤️
So Tall
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Words: 431
warnings: *smut* *size kink* *fluff* *p in v* *praise kink* *pet names*
*:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧✧・゚:* *:・゚✧
You were on the bed with Duff.  Duff was on top of you as he kept thrusting himself inside of you. Duff had both of your arms in his hands. His whispers of sweet nothings made you want to come. Hearing his deep and long breaths in your ear made you hook your teeth on his earlobe gently. His blonde wavy strands of hair were scattered all over his face. He was red and holding onto your small body. He knew you were delicate and fragile so he was always cautious of what moves he made. You had a thing called crepitus. You always heard all of your bones crack but it wasn't painful. Duff loved hearing those sounds. Sometimes he would hear your hips crack during sex.
“Such a good beautiful short girl.” He breathed into your neck.
“You're so small and so petite. I wish I could take you anywhere I went. I would love to put you in my pocket.” Duff moaned so loud. “Fuck! Duff your dick is so big. I wonder how you even manage to fit inside of me” You moan holding on to his shoulders. 
Your hands move to his chest while he is on top of you in a missionary position. His hips kept making contact with yours. You always loved when he would hold you because he was so much bigger than you. He was tall and slender and you were short but slender. You loved kissing him everywhere. Your lips would always kiss his hands whenever you had sex.
“You’re so tall Duff.” You moan as he keeps shoving his full length inside of you.
You loved feeling Duff's full length inside of you. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that it would be very difficult for you to walk. You wanted him to kiss your whole body while caressing you gently while you both made love. He was doing exactly what you wanted. He was so sweet and caring to you because he knew how much you deserved it. He loves you and you love him. You felt his orgasm traveling through you. He felt you come on his dick. He pulled out of you. “You’re so perfect darling,” You say kissing his shoulder. 
Duff grunted and moaned while his jets of come coated your insides. He kisses your lips. You both have to go to a red carpet event later with Guns n Roses and having sex with you made him less nervous and more focused on his work. You loved watching him interact with his fans.
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jplupine · 11 months ago
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Primal Pred!Grimmjow x Prey!Reader
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Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x AFAB Reader Word Count: ~4.6k Date Published: Nov 25, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Established Relationship, Size Difference, Primal Play, Marking, Light Blood/Injury, Cunnilingus, Outdoor Sex, Feral Behavior, Name Calling [Asshole, Bitch, Kitty Cat], Creampie, Brat!Reader; Reader is AFAB but no gender is specified, Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used
A/N: The follower milestone fic is finally finished! I want to thank everyone who participated in the event and everyone kindly supporting me ^-^ <3
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  The crackling fire danced in the pit surrounded by pale stones. The shadows swayed with the light flickering shades of orange and white. Insects of the night called out their chorus from the darkness beyond the fire.
  You sat on a log with your fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee. It wasn't quite the same as what you brewed at home, but it did add a bit of comfort as you sipped it. The atmosphere was relaxing and made you glad you'd decided to go on a camping trip to get away from the bustle of work and city life.
  The dark night sky littered with glittering stars and the moon shining bright were so unlike the sky hidden by street lights back home. It was breathtaking.
  And given it was still in the transition time between summer and autumn, it wasn't too warm nor too cold out. You'd checked the weather forecast before heading out into the woods too, and it was supposed to remain like this for the next few days you were out there.
  An owl screeched in the distance before a stick in the fire snapped, sending embers up into the night sky as if they were trying to join the stars.
  You closed your eyes to just listen to the world around you; soaking it in while bringing the coffee to your lips. No sound of speeding cars. No foul smells from rotting garbage or fumes from exhaust pipes. And certainly no manager or boss nagging about work.
  It was bliss.
  You sighed and opened your eyes again. Glancing around, you began to wonder where your camping partner was. He'd gone off to stretch his legs, but that had been some time ago now.
  Looking into the shadows of the trees, you tried to see if you could spot him. You weren't all that worried since you knew he could take care of himself, but that didn't stop you from wondering when he'd come back. Taking another drink of your coffee, you stretched out your legs in front of you.
  However, as the fire popped and crackled, the woods began to feel different. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as unease began to settle in. Something was wrong, but you couldn't tell what.
  Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed something you couldn't see.
  A low, thunderous rumble shook the air and made you jolt. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from with how it bounced through the trees surrounding your campsite.
  Sitting up straight with your eyes darting around, you still didn't see anything. It sounded like an animal; big and dangerous. Slowly setting down your coffee, you reached into your pocket to grab your knife.
  It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing as the blade flipped out from the handle. Gradually rising to your feet, your grip on the knife tightened while your heart was pounding.
  You could feel eyes on you. Whatever the beast was, it was certainly watching you. Swallowing, you hoped the fire was enough to keep the thing in the shadows.
  Hearing a twig snap, your gaze shot in the direction of the sound. Eyes reflecting the fire's light shined from the darkness. Another rumbling growl came from the same direction as the eyes, and your heart beat faster.
  The eyes went lower, and you had a feeling the beast was getting ready to pounce. Brandishing your knife, the creature in the shadows seemed to hesitate as light shined against the blade. The eyes in the dark locked with yours before there was a loud rush of wind.
  The fire was blown out, leaving you surrounded in complete darkness until your eyes could adjust. You couldn't yet see but heard movement ahead of you.
  The beast was closing in.
  You ran and nearly tripped over the log if you hadn't caught yourself from falling. As you ran, your eyes became more accustomed to the night, allowing you to run through the trees faster. A roar that shook you to the bone silenced the rest of the woods, sending the other creatures into hiding to avoid getting caught.
  With your heart loudly pounding in your own ears, you nearly screamed when something grabbed your shoulder only to swing the knife instead. You felt the blade make contact before the beast roared. Everything happened so fast that you only saw a flash of fangs in the moonlight and claws before the knife was sent flying out of your hand. You heard it thunk as the blade was buried deep into a tree trunk.
  You didn't think twice, going into survival mode to run even faster.
  "Bitch!" A barked, angry voice made you nearly stumble. No, you must have misheard. You still didn't stop. When a fallen tree blocked your path, you vaulted over it and hoped it would deter the beast.
  However, as your legs carried you further, you could still feel the thing behind you, chasing you. What made it more terrifying were the sounds; the growling and snapping of sharp teeth like the razor point edges of scissors grinding against each other.
  You knew it was getting closer and were already picturing in your head how it would tear you apart once it caught you.
  You were grabbed from behind, getting jerked back by your jacket. Crying out from shock, you struggled and unzipped your jacket to slip out of the garment. The beast held onto the jacket as you scrambled away and managed to get distance.
  Looking back, you saw the creature as it stood a few yards away. Its body was lean and pale with a long tail whipping around behind it. It was bipedal with muscled limbs and long hair past their waistline. And your jacket was clutched in its hands while being pressed against the beast's face.
  When it looked at you, your breath caught in your throat. Those glowing eyes were set in a face that was all too human.
  It wasn't an animal. It wasn't human, either.
  "Grimmjow! You scared the shit out of me, you fucking asshole!"
  "I know. I can smell it." His face then lifted from your jacket with a displeased expression. "And you cut me, fucker." Grimmjow's low voice growled, and your eyes drifted to his cheek where there was dried blood but no wound.
  "It's already healed, you big baby." You retorted with a huff. His tail twitched as his gaze traveled over your face. Grimmjow's lips curled up into a vicious grin with his fangs exposed.
  "Why are you still standing all the way over there? Aw, are you mad?" His tone was mocking, and your hands balled into fists at your sides.
  "Yes, I'm mad!" You angrily pointed at the Arrancar without taking a step closer. "You made me think I was about to get eaten!"
  "I mean," Grimmjow cocked his head to the side as his ears perked up. His slit pupils widened a slight fraction, eyelids lowering just a bit as he looked over your body. "I never said I wasn't going to eat you."
  His tone and hungry gaze sparked something deep in your gut. Grimmjow's tail curled as he shifted his weight on his digitigrade legs, his paws so quiet when he took a step closer. You took a step back, maintaining the distance between you two.
  Grimmjow stopped to look at you again as the hunger in his eyes intensified. He slowly licked his lips like a beast would its maw.
  You knew the Arrancar well enough by now to recognize when the predator within him was stirring. You also knew if you made any sudden movement, he just might pounce and take you down like prey.
  The air felt electrified as you two just stared at one another, eyes locked as unspoken words lingered at the forefront of your mind. Grimmjow brought your jacket to his face again, making a show of inhaling your scent with a soft purr rumbling in his chest.
  You still didn't move. The Arrancar was on a precarious edge, and you weren't entirely sure what he would do next.
  Grimmjow suddenly threw your jacket to the side and lunged forward. You reacted as soon as you saw him move, turning to run as he landed where you had been standing just a second prior. He was on his hands and paws like a beast, watching you as you went around a tree.
  His instincts made his blood run hot through his veins, and you could feel those piercing eyes trailing after you. You'd set off the predator and ran like prey.
  The hunt was on.
  The bestial call that rang out through the trees made your heart beat faster as you weaved through the trees. Excitement and fear mingled together and fueled your legs to carry you further. Not knowing what he might do if he caught you had your mind racing with the possibilities.
  Skidding around a boulder, you changed directions. Running in a straight line would make it easier for Grimmjow to track you down, and you didn't want that.
  You'd learned to shift your weight and posture to make your steps quieter over the ground littered with dead leaves and did so now. You were going to do everything within your power to make this as difficult as possible for Grimmjow.
  Grabbing your beanie, you rubbed it against your neck to make your scent on it stronger before you threw it into the bushes. You went in the opposite direction in the hopes of confusing Grimmjow even if just for a moment.
  Panting, you hid behind a large tree surrounded by plants tall enough to cover you as you crouched. Leaning one hand against the trunk of the tree, you tried to catch your breath. Hearing a growl in the distance made you smirk.
  Going lower, you pressed your body down against the earth to look out from under the foliage without giving your position away. The moon and stars cutting through the trees gave you enough light to see beyond where you were hidden.
  Taking slow, deep breaths, your eyes scanned the woods. Far away, you spotted movement. Through the trees, you could see Grimmjow as spots of moonlight danced over his body.
  The Arrancar was still on his hands and paws, muscles rolling beneath his skin-tight clothing as his movements were reminiscent of a big cat. His tail swayed with his head held level with his spine and nose twitching as he scented the air.
  Watching him thrilled you. He was neither man nor beast and didn't care about keeping up appearances of either, and you liked that. You liked how he could posture and smirk like a man, and you also liked how he would act like an animal as he pursued you.
  It certainly appealed to a primal part of your brain in a way you didn't fully understand. You should be terrified of his power and destructive capabilities, but seeing how his feral eyes and silky hair shined in the moonlight as he crouched left you enamored.
  With Grimmjow crouching where he was, you could see the muscles in his thighs bunching beneath his clothes. You covered your mouth and nose to muffle the sound of your breathing as his furry ears began to swivel. He was listening to the woods around him, picking up sounds in several directions that his ears moved in.
  His eyes closed with his head tilting back. Grimmjow's fingers flexed with his daunting claws catching the moonlight. His head then rolled to the side, his eyes snapping open as he looked right at you with a grin.
  Your hair stood on end as the predator twisted and moved in your direction. Scrambling to your feet, you kicked up leaves and dirt before bolting to keep the chase going.
  You ran faster even as your muscles and lungs burned. Grimmjow roared, letting you know that he was closing the distance and fast.
  Something caught your foot, sending you tumbling across the ground right as the beast went flying overhead. Tripping over a root had saved you from being caught again.
  Grimmjow landed ahead of you and twisted with claws digging into the earth. Locking eyes with him as you pushed yourself up, your fingers sank into the soil beneath you. His tail whipped from side to side as you both were in similar positions on all fours, waiting for one or the other to make a move.
  You couldn't look away, panting as you tried to think of what to do next. Grimmjow's slit pupils widened as his top lip curled to bare a mouth full of fangs with a maniacal grin.
  He made the first move, lunging forward with a flex of his thighs and biceps. You reared back in an attempt to get away only to fail. He was faster, but you weren't giving up so easily.
  Grabbing a nearby fallen branch, you swung it like a bat and hit him across the face. He reared back with a vicious yowl while flashing his fangs. When his head swung back down, you used the branch to keep those sharp teeth away from you, already knowing how much of a biter the bastard was.
  His growling vibrated through the branch and up your arms as his fangs sank into the wood. Claws tore through the sleeves of your shirt as you struggled to get him off you. He was so strong, keeping you trapped like a mouse beneath him.
  Your pounding heart sent adrenalin rushing through your veins while you watched his long canines vanish into the branch as it creaked from the force of his jaws. His bite was powerful enough to break through the wood and sent a rain of splinters falling over you.
  His big hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the ground by your head. Kicking against the ground, you still fought to get free only to fail. His fangs snapped right in front of your face as you screamed, sounding more angry than afraid.
  "Got ya." Grimmjow sounded amused, but you snarled and moved to punch him. However, his strength was far greater than yours, keeping your hands firmly against the ground. "Mm, yeah. Keep struggling. I like it when my prey puts up a fight."
  He was mocking you, but you knew he was telling the truth all the same. Perhaps it was a part of the Hollow nature within Grimmjow that made him enjoy subduing you in such a way. It was domination through force when you put up a fight and didn't let him have you so easily.
  And this appealed to you as well. While you couldn't fight back the way another Hollow might, you also knew you didn't have to hold back as much with him not being human.
  Locking your legs around his waist, you twisted to switch your positions. Grimmjow fell on his back while still holding your wrists. The momentum kept going as you both rolled across the ground with him snarling and growling.
  You managed to wrench one hand free and grabbed the folded collar around most of his neck to yank it back. More of his scarred chest was exposed along with part of his shoulder and the side of his neck, and you sank your teeth into the muscle now bared. Claws tore through the side of your shirt as Grimmjow yowled.
  He roughly forced you onto your stomach, using his weight against your back to pin you down as he fisted your hair and made you bare the back of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin before his fangs scraped over your neck, causing goosebumps to rise even as he bit down. Grimmjow ground his hips against your ass as his chest rumbled.
  He had you now. With his sharp teeth clamped against your neck hard enough to cause small beads of blood to form, there was no more getting away. His erection pressed against you through the layers of clothes you both wore, letting you know just how worked up the Arrancar had gotten.
  You knew Grimmjow could smell your arousal and could hear the quick beating of your heart. Those two things in combination never failed to drive his instincts wild.
  His warm tongue lapped up the blood from the back of your neck as he purred. The sound of ripping fabric met your ears before you realized he was tearing through your shirt.
  "Grimmjow!" You snapped at him, but the garment was already ruined and being shoved over your shoulders. You didn't actually mind it; the action aroused you more, but you didn't want to give in just yet.
  "Pick your next words carefully." His voice was breathy with a warning tone as he spoke near your ear. His hands went down your sides to roughly grab the waistband of your jeans.
  "Or what? You'll bite me again?" You spoke while lifting your hips to push your ass against him more. "Try me, fucker." Getting your hands under you, you managed to undo the button and zipper of your pants, but Grimmjow tore his claws through the material while shoving it down over your ass and legs.
  You kicked off your shoes to let him take the last shreds of your pants off. They were tossed to the side without a care. Grimmjow then grabbed your hips to lift your ass higher into the air as you pushed your underwear down before he could get his claws on them.
  Grimmjow's hands went lower, spreading you open before eagerly burying his face between your thighs. His tongue lapped up your arousal with a low groan. Your breath faltered as you spread your knees further.
  You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth when his tongue dragged over your clit. His fangs brushed against your flesh as he pulled you closer to his hungry mouth. Grimmjow's claws pricked your skin before he let go.
  His lips and tongue were still on you, and based on his movement, you assumed he was undressing while still eating your pussy. You took in a sharp breath when he growled and the vibration was carried on his tongue. Your hips rocked back to chase the feeling, and Grimmjow grabbed your ass and squeezed.
  He was ravenous with his claws pricking your skin. By now, he knew what made you feel good and what could make you elicit the very sounds he wanted to hear. His growl shook you to the bone as wet sounds came from between your thighs.
  You were panting when his broad tongue swiped over your core before he pulled away. Grimmjow spit, his saliva landing on your pussy as your clit throbbed.
  One of his large hands grabbed your head to pin it against the ground, pressing your cheek into the dirt as the head of his cock slid between your wet lips. He mixed his spit in with your arousal while slicking up his dick. You could tell the Arrancar was eager from his unsteady breaths and his grip on you.
  When he finally pushed inside, you felt yourself stretching to accommodate his thickness. Grimmjow didn't go slow, thrusting deep until his hips hit your ass. You both grunted as your hands balled into fists.
  Looking over your shoulder, your gaze met Grimmjow's. Something in your eyes made his tail twitch.
  "You're being awfully impatient, kitty cat. You really that needy for me?" Your words made his nose scrunch up with a snarl. You had yet to truly submit to him even if your body had.
  Grimmjow fisted his hand in your hair, tugging on it to pull your head back and make you incapable of looking at him. His other hand grabbed your hip with his claws digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. Without warning, he pulled out and thrust back in harshly, forcing a low moan from your throat.
  "Who the fuck are you calling kitty cat, bitch?" He growled, but you couldn't respond since he forced another moan from you. You'd pissed him off as intended, and he was going to fuck you into submission.
  He'd mistakenly believed the fight was over. Too bad that spark in you was harder to quell and you were certain to give the Arrancar attitude. He may have caught you, but he needed to earn your submission.
  Grimmjow let go of your hair to hold both of your hips, his heavy thrusts slamming his hips into your ass hard enough that you could feel the jiggle of your flesh. He was an animal pinning you in place as your mind swam with pleasure.
  You were moaning, crying out into the night as he grunted and drove his cock deeper.
  "Listen to you." You could hear the smile in his voice. "Now who's the needy one?" You didn't trust your voice enough to verbally respond and settled on raising your middle finger. Grimmjow then went for your throat, wrapping his big arms around you while forcing you to lay flat against the ground with his large hand curled around your neck.
  He still rutted against you as his hot breath hit the side of your head. This position meant he couldn't go as deep as before, but the angle had his cock ramming into the perfect spot to make you buck and writhe. Grimmjow chuckled as you struggled to contain yourself beneath him.
  "That's it." His voice rumbled near your ear before his firm grip on your neck tilted your head up. "Submit to your king." Your moan pitched higher as your eyes fluttered closed. His lips and teeth brushed against the shell of your ear as he panted, making you shiver.
  His grip on your throat tightened but remained loose enough that you could still freely moan. Grimmjow wanted to hear you cry out, every moan a form of worship that stroked his ego. He knew with how pliant you were in his hands now that you had given over control and submitted.
  You felt the sweat forming on your skin as fire burned through your veins. Grimmjow's heat and weight on your back made your head spin as the pleasure made you buck. He grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the ground, exerting more control over your body as you bent to his will.
  Being trapped beneath him, you took whatever he gave with enthusiasm. Each heavy thrust made you fall deeper into the pit of pleasure. Grimmjow's mouth moved to the back of your neck again, licking the bite he'd already left while nipping in other places.
  Your voice shook as your toes curled, and the deep groan the Arrancar made was bordering a growl. You panted curses under your breath as Grimmjow fucked you, ramming his cock into the spot that lit your nerves aflame and made you cry out his name.
  Grimmjow ran his tongue over the bites littering your skin as he savored every sound you made. How you clenched around him drove him further toward the edge. His strong grip on your throat with his claws scraping against your skin only fueled your desire.
  The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air. Grimmjow's growls mingled with your moans and carried through the trees and into the darkness of the woods. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and groaning low with his hips grinding against your ass. His dick dragged against your walls, rubbing against every spot that made you squirm and gasp and moan.
  The carnality was bliss. You gave yourself to him completely, leaning into his touch while your spine arched from the pleasure wracking through your body. Grimmjow released your wrist and throat to grab your hips as his weight on your back pushed you further against the earth.
  His claws scraped your skin as his thrusts picked up speed, his balls smacking against you with his frenzied pace. Grimmjow sank his teeth into your shoulder with a groan as your blood coated his tongue. You would always wear his mark so long as you were his.
  Grimmjow pistoning into your wet pussy created lewd, slicking sounds that drove him wilder. Your taste, your scent, how you felt around his cock, and how wet you were for him made Grimmjow's head fall into such a primal state of desire. He was drowning in you and unable to come up for air until he could cum.
  So he fucked you harder, chasing that high and that feral instinct screaming in his veins to fill you with his seed. Claiming his prey in every way he could left both of you unable to think straight. You were drooling with your fingers digging into the dirt, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your skin.
  Your bodies being flush against each other meant everything was felt. Every twitch, every heartbeat, every sound that vibrated from the chest and throat.
  Grimmjow left scratches over your hips as he tried to pull you even closer. It was impossible, but that didn't stop his pleasure-clouded mind from telling him he needed to. He moaned into your skin while thrusting his cock as deep as he could go.
  You cried out with your thighs shivering, and that was the final thing that made Grimmjow snap. With shallow thrusts and animalistic grunts, his cock began to twitch while pumping you full of his cum. He didn't stop, continuing to fuck you through his orgasm and drive his seed deeper into your core even as it overflowed and dripped down your thighs.
  Grimmjow released your shoulder from his jaws, groaning and licking the bite while his cum mixed with your arousal. He let go of one hip and slipped his hand under you to find your clit. Being mindful of his claws, he pressed his fingertips against the throbbing bud.
  You bucked and moaned an octave higher. Grimmjow let go of your other hip to grab your jaw and make you turn your head for a kiss. His tongue dove into your mouth without warning and glided across yours as he devoured your moans. He soon had you cumming around his cock as you clenched and cried out in pleasure.
  He didn't stop until you were whimpering and dancing on the line of overstimulation. He pulled away with his nose brushing through your hair before his lips traveled down your spine with kisses and gentle nips as he purred. You propped your upper half up on your elbows and wiped the drool from your chin.
  Your skin still buzzed despite feeling sated. Grimmjow pulled his cock free of your heat and spread you open to see the mess leaking from your pussy. He huffed and gave a satisfied purr that rumbled deep in his chest.
  You looked over your shoulder to see Grimmjow admiring you with a smirk on his soft lips and his pupils still blown wide. Biting your bottom lip, you couldn't help but give a sultry smile.
  Pushing yourself up, you turned to drape your arms over his shoulders and capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Grimmjow's tail thumped against the ground as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
  "Maybe next time we should start the hunt naked." You muttered with your lips only centimeters from his. "Jeans are expensive, you know?" Grimmjow chuckled, and his warm palm traveled up your back.
  "Yeah. 'Cause you're really so concerned about that." His smirk didn't falter even as he had a sarcastic tone. "I'll hunt you however, my sweet bitch." Grimmjow nipped your bottom lip while purring, and you yelped when his hand smacked against your ass hard enough to make it sting.
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cheesycatz · 3 months ago
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The Apple's Worm
(Spamton AU reference sheet) 1 2
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- The last living member of the BIGSHOT computer worm species, this version of Spamton hides within the depths of Cyber City and its Trash Zone, skittish yet aggressive. He spitefully waits for the opportunity to restore his parasitoid species to its formal glory.
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- He primarily walks on all twelves. He moves in short bursts, and can stay perfectly still. His body is rarely completely straight.
- He's 16 ft (~490 cm) long from nose to tail
- Spamton acts animalistic and unpredictable, as he grew up alone from both regular darkners and his own species. He feels uncomfortable about his own natural instincts.
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- He bristles his fur and makes a rattlesnake-like hiss as a threat, and will attack if provoked.
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- Spamton enjoys and feels much safer on ceilings, on walls, and in darkness.
- Despite living in the Trash Zone, Spamton still keeps himself clean, rubbing his legs together and rubbing his nose like a fly.
- As an invertebrate with no bones, Spamton's body is incredibly flexible.
- Still not beating the cat allegations
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- Spamton is an opportunistic hunter who enjoys Cyber City's abundance of maice. He uses his extendable proboscis to impale prey and drink their souls.
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Wormton's design hasn't changed that much, as I mostly added onto existing lore with very few retcons. Though, I think I lean more into the insectoid elements nowadays. The longer segmented nose, compound eyes, and thinner limbs he has now definitely make him less like to be mistaken for a weird sergal. He's meant to look alien, but in a "weird animal from some far branching ancient linage that somehow survived several mass extinction events and has no other close relatives" way rather than an extraterrestrial way. His biology occasionally mimics the mammalian ideas we're used to, but they're always off. He has fur, but it's part of an exoskeleton. He has lungs, but they're 24 or so tiny pockets rather than two. He has eyelids, but they're actually nictitating membranes. He has a heart, but it's a set of five arches with no pulse. He has teeth, but they're detached parts of his mandibles that can move freely. And, uh, so on. God I love fictional biology
Despite being the size of an adult crocodile, Wormton acts more like a tiny spider. His twitchy movements and short bursts of movement are based on how bugs move, but they also fit the "Spamton" side of him. His behaviors are inspired by a variety of animals, but I'd say that spiders, wasps, and cats are the main ones. Additionally, a lot of his behaviors are based on the invasive species aspect of his design. These things are not at the top of the food chain. Their average life expectancy barely crosses 6 months. They'd rather hide than fight. Yet, they somehow become the most dangerous thing alive the moment they're brought to the surface web, spreading faster than lice in an elementary school. But, no matter how much of an advantage they have, they still hide and don't trust anything but themselves. God I love fictional ecology
Overall, I could talk for way too long about Wormton and malworms (his species). The only thing holding me back from massive info dumps is the fact that I want to actually finish the Wormton fic in a reasonable amount of time, whatever that ends up being. I fear I am quickly passing my estimated final length of 150k words and I might have 30% or more still left to write
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megamindsecretlair · 9 months ago
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Midnight Sin - Chapter 5
Chapter 4 Chapter 6
Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that has some smut in the middle. Fingering (fem receiving), cursing, use of N word, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink if you squint. Non-inclusive language used.
Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone invites you onto a mysterious date to introduce you more to his world.
Word Count: 4,742k
Midnight Sin Masterlist
A/N: Well alright nah, I had to swerve on back to my first love. There's some more backstory thrown into this, I hope ya'll paying attention. How has this list gotten so long? I love ya'll. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.
Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap
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Tyrone was being mysterious as hell. He had told you to be free tonight and that he would pick you up a little after sunset. He refused to tell you where you were going or what you would be doing and you had no idea what to wear.
“Wear anything you’re comfortable in,” he had told you and nothing more. 
Now, you were in his car. He was dressed to the nines in a silky black suit, black shirt, skinny black tie and a red pocket square. You felt horribly underdressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt.
He didn’t let you change. You were fighting yourself from asking a thousand questions. Why was he dressed so fancy and you weren’t allowed to? Was he just coming from somewhere?
You had to bite your cheek to keep from firing them off. Tyrone never gave you any reason to doubt him. He was a vampire, sure, but you’d yet to see that particular side to him. You weren’t sure how you would react. Horror? Attraction? Who knew?
He held your hand while he drove, asking about your day. His thumb stroked across yours and your belly flipped with every pass. You stumbled over your boring ass day, dealing with work. Bunch of lazy people coddled by management, what else was new? 
Tyrone pulled into a parking structure, but you weren’t sure what kind. When he parked and opened the door for you, he had a smirk on his face. He pulled on his sunglasses and headed inside the doors. 
It looked like…a boutique. An expensive ass boutique. The kind with perfume pumping out of the vents. Enough to be noticeable but subtle enough that it didn’t irritate your senses. The carpet was a soft cream color that felt like you were walking on clouds. There were a few racks back here, filled with long and flowing dresses. Fancy event dresses. 
The back section of the boutique had been closed off with a soft pale pink curtain. As soon as you got further inside, you noticed dressing rooms and a rack of matching shoes to the dresses.
“Tyrone?” You asked.
At the sound of your voice, some tall, thin, brunette stepped from the shadows holding a champagne flute. She handed it to you with a small smile. You took it but you were just out of your element here.
“I want to take you somewhere tonight. Be more involved in my world than just my parties,” he said. He nodded to the woman who left and returned, rolling a clothing rack your way.
“There’s no way my size is in here,” you said. 
You couldn’t help yourself from walking over to the rack, running your fingers through the fabric. Silk, satin, chiffon, lace. You ran over the many textures and colors already imagining trying to squeeze your ass in one of them. 
“This store caters exclusively to us and all sizes,” Tyrone said.
You laughed and turned to face him. “You just think of everything, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Try to. I want to spoil somebody. I want to spoil you,” he said. 
You shook your head. “There’s no way I can afford this or accept it as a gift. This is…way too much. I’m not after your money,” you said.
You had taken care of yourself all your life, because who else was going to do it? You didn’t like handouts or charity. 
Tyrone looked towards the sales clerk. “We’d like some privacy please,” he said. The sales clerk nodded robotically and left through the pale curtains, out into the boutique proper. Tyrone walked over to you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest.
He took a deep breath and kissed your cheek. “I want you to spend my money. I want you to spend so much of it, the bank sends several ex-forces to shut us down. I already have more than I can spend in a thousand lifetimes,” he said. His deep, rumbling voice only sent shivers down your thighs.
“Tyrone…” you said. You were trying to think of a good argument for why you couldn’t let him pamper you. This just…wasn’t you. You liked him for him and that was all that mattered.
Tyrone’s hands slid across your hips until he was unbuttoning your jeans. Your soft, lacy panties were moved aside as Tyrone circled your clit. He hummed, finding you wet already. He dipped his hand lower to tease your entrance, gathering up more of your arousal to ease his fingers around your clit once more.
A soft moan escaped you. One hand moved over his but you made no indication for him to stop. Your other hand gripped his other forearm. This was so wrong and dirty, getting fingered in a boutique where the salespeople could hear you or walk in on you at any moment.
You never thought you had an exhibition kink, but here you were. Tossing your ass in the air for his vampire buddies to see and now for sales clerks. Tyrone licked your neck, right over your artery and you moaned a little louder.
You’d blame this on your morbid curiosity into the macabre. It turned you on a little too much that a creature capable of draining you dry was licking all over your neck like you were an ice cream cone. The push and pull between hunger, death, and sex intoxicated you. The way you were both a treat to eat and a treat to ravish. 
Wasn’t it the French that called orgasms, “la petite mort”? The little death? 
You felt a little like dying whenever you were with Tyrone. Maybe it was the nature of the vampire. Maybe it was because you were terrified of dying and here he offered a solution. If you asked, would he make you like him? Could you handle being a vampire? 
He moved his hand faster, flicking your clit. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, too harshly. He moved his left hand up to cover your mouth while he rubbed and flicked on your clit until you were putty in his hands.
Until you were drooping, knees buckling, unable to keep standing. Tyrone bent and rolled with you but held you up. Held you open. You were so fucking close. So fucking close to that sweet hit of ecstasy.
“Say you’ll take all my money. Every last cent. That you’ll let me spoil you. That I get to treat you like my little doll?” He asked.
His hand slowed. He moved his left hand away from your mouth. “Wait, wait,” you said. You moved and gyrated your hips, not wanting to give up how close you were to cumming.
“What do I wanna hear?” He asked.
“Please,” you said. You were desperate to cum. Your body was on fire.
“I need to hear it, little doll,” he said in your ear. He finished with a small lick to the shell of your ear.
“Okay, okay, okay, please,” you moaned. You were right on the edge. Right on the edge of that cliff staring down the abyss. You only needed a push.
Tyrone chuckled and returned to kissing your neck, rubbing his fangs across your artery. His hand moved faster, flicking your clit until you were moaning and riding your orgasm. His hand returned to your mouth to cover some of it, but between the smell of sex and your noises, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing back here.
You shivered and jerked as you came down, slumping against him. He held you while you recovered. “I can’t try on dresses now,” you said, pouting.
“There’s a bathroom right over there. Nice try,” he said. He replaced your panties and zipped you up, leaving your button undone. He tapped your ass to get you moving towards the bathroom so you could clean yourself up. Bastard. You heard him licking his fingers.
Afterwards, you were fresh and clean. Tyrone had found a plush chair to relax into. He was on his phone, scowling, but when you entered, he put his phone away.
“Which dresses do you like?” He asked.
You playfully scowled as you looked over the vibrant colors. There was black, green, purple, and red to match his pocket square. You chose the red one, flaring it out over yourself. It was a sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. It had your name written all over it.
You picked out a few more, a blue one and a purple one. “Try them on, I wanna see you in ‘em,” he said.
He really wasn’t going to make this easy on you. Fuck it. If you were going to date a vampire, you might as well receive all the perks. You were dying for him to roll you again. Spending his money was just a part of that. You deserved it, didn’t you? There was no law that said you had to play the demure card.
If you were a gold digging heartless bitch, that was one thing. You weren’t. You were an asshole sure, a bitch most definitely, but heartless? No. You simply curated which fucks to give. 
You walked towards the dressing room, clutching the red dress when Tyrone stopped you. “Naw, out here,” he said. 
“Really?” You asked.
“I wanna see everything,” he said. 
You smiled. Maybe he was still rolling you because you felt sinful, naughty, as you pushed your jeans down your hips. You turned so that he could watch the material slide over your ass. Tyrone leaned on one elbow, fingers against his face, his pinky resting against his big, sexy lips. 
You couldn’t see his eyes, but you watched him in the mirror. His attention was definitely on you. 
You worked off your shirt and bra, tossing it at him. He caught it with his free hand and rested it against his knee. That sight alone made your knees weak. You loved that you were nearly naked and he was still dressed up. 
You shimmied into the red dress and moved closer to the mirror. It was a mirror that had soft lighting around it so you looked at all of your angles in the three way mirror. It wasn’t zipped yet but already felt amazing on your skin. You zipped it partially, just to see how it looked and you were amazed by how sexy you looked. Your necklace even sort of matched, the small, single pearl dangling against your neck.
You turned to Tyrone who grinned, flashing his fangs. “Irresistible,” he said.
Your cheeks warmed from his praise and you turned your head this way and that. “I like it, but I want to see the others,” you said.
Tyrone glanced at his watch. “We have time,” he said.
You tried on the other two dresses which were just as gorgeous. Different styles and fabrics and you nearly moaned when you wore the purple one. However, you felt like the red dress matched you better and it matched his suit without looking too much like you were on a prom date.
The sales clerk reentered as you were slipping on the red one once more. “We’ll take all three,” Tyrone said.
You squealed and clapped your hands together. Then, you went over to the rack. Your shoe size. How he knew such things was beyond you. Maybe his vision allowed him to see your shoe size one day. Maybe after so many years of being alive, he just knew by sight alone.
“Tell me about your family,” Tyrone said as you perused the offerings. Some were a little too high for you. You wanted to be sexy, not fall flat on your ass.
“What do you wanna know?” You asked.
“I wanna know everything,” he said.
You giggled. “Not much to tell. There’s not much of us left. I come from a small family of a small family. I didn’t grow up with a lot of cousins or siblings. I have an annoying ass little brother and a mom. My dad died when I was younger, back in high school. In fact, we joke that there’s a family curse,” you said.
You selected a pair of heels, putting them on to get the full effect. It added to your height, but not so much that you felt unsteady. 
“What do you mean by family curse?” Tyrone asked.
“The women in my family tend to die young in freak accidents. My grandma was one of the oldest in the family for the longest,” you said. It still hurt you terribly thinking of your grandmother. No one knew her secret and she didn’t write it down anywhere. 
Your mother was just as afraid of dying as you were. There was no way to prove a curse, but as far back as anyone could tell, your matrilineal line dwindled each generation. Fewer daughters were getting born. Your grandma was an only girl, your mother an only girl, and now you.
“Why do you ask?” You asked. You went back to the shoe rack picking out two more pairs of shoes to match your dresses. Your friends were going to scream in jealousy when they saw these. Especially London’s bitch ass. You couldn’t tell them you were dating a vampire, but you could tell them you were dating a rich club owner.
You smiled evilly in the mirror as you imagined what London would say. How she would try her best to act like she wasn’t hating. She could be happy if she left Carlos’ ass alone. 
“I’m trynna see if you have witches in your family,” Tyrone said. 
You giggled. “Ah, no. I think we’re the total opposite of witches,” you said. Witches would know how to fight off a death curse. 
Your thoughts turned towards being a vampire. You could do it. You could spare a future child from living without her mother. There was no rhyme or reason to how the women in your family died. Some were burned alive, drowned, at a young age, or at an old age. That was the scariest part.
You and your mother fought like hell not to be paranoid. To live your lives to the fullest. If you became a vampire, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t sure how you would explain it to your mom, but she’d have to be happy in the long run right? 
“You sure there’s no magic in your blood at all?” He asked.
You walked away from the mirror, moving to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” You asked.
“I just want to learn more about you, promise,” he said. He smiled. “Ready?” 
You nodded. Luckily, your hair was already up and didn’t look half bad. You were glad you opted to put some care into it. You’d have been mortified to walk into that event looking crazy. Like lipstick on a pig. Wearing nice clothes but everything else to the wayside.
After getting the bags in the car, Tyrone took you to a makeup store. You told him it was backwards, that you do hair and makeup first and then put on the dress. He smiled. “You just focus on staying sexy and I’ll worry about everything else,” he said.
You shrugged. You weren’t going to argue. After, you were finally on your way to whatever event it was that Tyrone was attending.
He pulled into a fancy hotel in Downtown LA, the sprawling entrance trying its hardest to compete with a nicer city. Still, it was gorgeous with a fountain out front. Tyrone stepped out and opened the door for you.
You really did feel like a doll. He helped you out and you promptly took his arm. Heads turned in your direction as Tyrone handed off his keys to the valet. Yeah, you knew you looked damn good. Like celebrities walking the red carpet. 
Tyrone led you towards a banquet hall. Inside, there were hundreds of people dressed up and rubbing elbows. It was like a sea of beautiful Black people. There was a spattering of white people, but the room screamed Black excellence. Was everyone here a vampire? Couldn’t be if you were here. You doubted they’d want a human knowing their inner workings.
You looked towards a banner for answers and found that it was some type of medical charity. You looked closer and noticed that it was for a children’s charity. Aww. You looked at Tyrone with a knowing smile.
“Like I said, I have enough money to buy the world ten times over. Good to do something meaningful with it. Not to mention, it keeps the hospitals on our side. The ones we don’t own won’t look too hard at us,” he said.
You shook your head, laughter spilling from your lips. “Why is that not surprising?” 
You needed to ask if there was some type of donor class you could take. An introduction to vampirism and how there was one on every corner. Your neighbor could be one. Your night time nurse could be one. They weren’t always the bloodthirsty demons the media made them out to be.
You were sure there was probably thousands of acres of land out there covering up vampire kills. You were sure that with one look, they could rip your head off and suck your innards. But no one came after you just because they thought your blood smelled that good. No one was rolling your mind on the regular to lure you into a trap.
There were rules and you wanted to know those rules. You wanted to know everything. If you were going to do what your mind was thinking, you wanted to be well-informed. 
“This is a vampire event. Not only are we discussing roll out donations to hospitals, we’re also keeping up with the lastest noise from law enforcement, witches, and vampire hunters. The modern age has made it easier than ever to hide but also to expose us. Vampires are cool now, you’ve learned to stop being afraid of us,” he said. He grinned at your expression, no doubt smelling the spike of fear that went through you.
You wondered if he could also smell that hit of attraction. Did he know that the thought of being at his mercy was a turn on? 
He removed his glasses since he was among friends. The door you had entered through was covered up by thick curtains. No one would know that there was a vampire party in this room.
“Since it’s sort of informal, donors are allowed to come,” he said. He led you around the room, pointing out auction items. No one really loses their interest in stuff. Vampires gained and lost areas of study over the years. The pyramids, Ancient Greece, mythology, etc. Sometimes one was willing to part with their items.
“What’s your interest?” You asked.
“Legacy,” he said. He grinned at you. “I collect historical items that represent great acts of service or immortality. Like the Holy Grail, the arrow that went through Achilles, a mirror from Helen of Troy, a cane from King Ghezo of Dahomey,” he said. 
His voice went up a little as he spoke about his items. They must really mean that much to him. “There’s so much I need to know,” you said and giggled.
You stopped by a standing table, the surface of the glass just high enough above your waist for comfort. A waiter walked by with champagne flutes. Others walked with wine. Hm, maybe not wine. You squinted but wasn't entirely sure.
Tyrone grabbed two flutes, holding onto the darker liquid one and handing you the champagne. Blood then. 
“That’s actually my fault. I kind of skipped a few steps inviting you into this life,” he said.
“What kind of steps?” 
“Usually we select our donors more carefully. Choose those already drawn to the supernatural, even for silly reasons. If they are capable of acknowledging that supernatural creatures can exist. We talk, answer questions, slowly get used to knowing that we are real. Donors are expected to offer up potential for blackmail should they want to out us,” he said. “Sex is the strongest motivator.”
And if a room full of people could claim they saw you busting it down, or that there was a video of you sucking Tyrone’s dick, you damn sure weren’t going to say anything. Should it freak you out that you were on a flash drive somewhere? In a file marked for blackmail?
Not really. Wasn’t anything crazier than the sex tape you made with an ex. You watched as he deleted everything after you broke up. All but the copy you had. If he had a secret one, he never posted it to any porn site you’d been to.
“Definitely has my seal of loyalty,” you said. You smiled. “I get it. You have to protect this,” you said.
“Well, this is cute,” Tyrone’s eyes narrowed. You turned your head to who had spoken.
A Black man stood before you with a long but sweet face, big like a football player, and wearing a nice dark suit. On his arm, there was a leggy Black woman with a small, rounded face like an actual doll. She was so gorgeous with midnight skin glistening in the fluorescent lighting.
She winked at you and flashed a hit of fang. Fuck, there were so damn cute together, it was killing you. 
Tyrone stepped closer behind you, placing a hand on your hip. “Isaac,” Tyrone said.
“There’s been some talk about you getting a new donor. How you doin’ sweetheart?” Isaac asked.
You lifted an eyebrow at his date. She was just going to let that slide? She winked again and looked you up and down. Maybe you misinterpreted that earlier wink. 
“She’s with me,” Tyrone said. 
You wanted to look at him to confirm. That he really was just publicly claiming you like that. But you were picking up hella tension. Your intuition was usually spot on so you stayed a silent and united front with Tyrone.
“Ah, I see, I see. Too bad. She likes to play with her donors,” Isaac said.
You looked at his date and she smiled. If you weren’t head over heels for Tyrone, you would definitely try to see what that was like. 
“I also heard that you had switched up your look. Walkin’ around with grills. Got me to thinkin’ that Fo-”
“Do you mind giving us a moment? There’s a lot of donors here,” he said.
You weren’t sure what this Isaac person was on about but you wanted to know more. Your nosy nature landed you in trouble all the time. But you just liked to think you were curious. You nodded and moved away, shoulders slumping that you couldn’t listen to more.
You walked over to the bar and got some water, feeling a little woozy from lack of food. Tyrone promised that you weren’t staying too long and that he would most certainly feed you. You were pretty sure he was talkin’ nasty. Everything he said sounded nasty when it dripped from those sexy lips.
“Are you a donor too?” You turned to see some of the few non-Black people here. Even in supernatural-land you couldn’t escape Black men chasing after them. 
You nodded. “Oh my god! It’s so hard to tell sometimes,” she said.
You told them your name and they told you theirs. “Which one are you?” The ringleader, Summer, asked you. 
She was a peaked, skinny girl with stringy blonde hair and one too many freckles. Out of the mountains that God sculpted Black women out of, these niggas still went for flat plains.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you the second donor or…?” 
“Does it matter?” You asked. Nothing about this girl seemed genuine. You didn’t like how she asked all of these questions or that her friends stayed silent as if you were in a teenage movie. 
“You the third one?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. One of the girls behind her smirked and you looked back at Summer.
“How long have you been a donor? I know how easy it is to get mixed up, since they rotate so often,” she said. She smiled like she was your friend. You hated nice-nasty bitches like this. What was with the hostility? 
Why couldn’t they have a nice conversation and bond over being blood bags for vampires? It was straight to competition mode and you were sick of it. As if the bitch could compete with someone as gorgeous as you?
If nothing else, it was the audacity. You were minding your Black ass business and the snow patrol had to come in and break it up.
“Maybe you just can’t satisfy your vampire. Not if it takes more than one of you at a time,” you said. 
Summer’s face dropped down in surprise. “I have class so I won’t give you any details, however, just know that my vampire is well taken care of. Evening ladies,” you said. You turned and headed far, far away from them.
“God, I’ve been waiting for someone to shut that ho up.” You passed by a tall Black woman with sun in her veins. Her deep brown skin was beautiful, exposed by her dark green dress. She was small up top, but more than made up for it in the ass and hips department.
And why was everyone so fucking pretty? It wasn’t fair.
You stopped walking. “I’m Nikki,” she said. You introduced yourself.
“The bitch of the ball?” You asked, nodding your head in Summer’s direction.
“She gets off on making donors cry because her poor mean Daddy won’t pay attention to her,” Nikki mocked, mimicking a baby voice.
“Fuck, that’s annoying,” you said.
“Right! She’s also probably mad because she’s been throwing herself at Tyrone for years. He won’t even acknowledge she exists,” Nikki said.
“I figured there was some jealousy in there,” you said.
“Isn’t it always though?” She asked.
For the next twenty minutes or so, you bonded with Nikki instantly. You were so in sync, it was maddening. You were into the same kind of things, loving movies and lounge dates, not one for a big overcrowded clubs. You were exchanging numbers with her when Tyrone finally found you.
“Good?” He asked.
You introduced him to Nikki who told you that she was here for another vampire. Tyrone knew that one and said she had a good one. She excused herself, with a promise to text you.
“Everything good with you?” You asked.
“Fine. Isaac is a business rival. He likes to get under my skin so I can brag about my next move,” he said.
“Does he think you’re that stupid?” You asked.
“Apparently. The mu’fucka keep tryin’ it,” he said. You giggled. Your stomach also rumbled.
He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me, let’s get you some food. Anything you want,” he said. 
“Anything?” You asked.
“Anything,” he said and smiled. He pecked your lips, hummed a little, and brought his lips back to yours. “That’s what I’ve been missing all night. Some lovin’.”
You told him that you wanted to go to a restaurant on the PCH. Gladstone’s was a celebration destination, right off the coast of the beach. It overlooked the ocean and there were barrels of peanuts you could snack on and throw the shells underfoot. It would absolutely ruin your shoes, but you’d just make Tyrone buy you some more.
Hell, maybe a whole fleet of the same shoes. So you could mess them up every night wearing them to bed with him.
“After dinner, you can get all the lovin’ you want,” you said. 
His eyes turned a shade darker, the red still a shock to you. He pulled you closer to him. “Don’t tease me, little doll,” he said.
You grinned. “The usual? Food and fuck?” You said. You slid your hands into his. He laughed, that wide smile tearing you up inside. You wanted to see that smile on his face all the time. 
“In that order,” he said. He led you outside to his car and soon you were flying down the street, wind whipping through the open windows for a night of great food, sights, and Tyrone’s body covering yours.
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Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6
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magalidragon · 5 months ago
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ready for it? | a smutty criminal Jonerys fic
For the @snowxstormworld Jonerys Summer Lovin 2024 event, Day 1: Turn Up the Heat. 😈
And for @libradoodle1 , I give you trashstache Jon. Enjoy him while he lasts. 😂
A tiny little thing, but he would never misjudge based on small packaging. Arya was a wisp but she had a bodycount that was uncountable at this point in her short life. He wanted another cigarette, but refrained from reaching into his jacket, lest one of her bodyguards shoot him. He sized up the driver pretty fast as her "bodyman" who was responsible for her singular protection, while another, a woman who got out of the other side of the car, probably could also take him down in seconds.
The other woman, her dark hair in springy curls, pushed back from her face with a jeweled headband, approached first. He could see in the headlights that she had caramel skin, golden-brown eyes, and wore shiny gold jewelry, but he also knew she had a knife at her hip and probably at least two guns on her person, if not another knife. She offered her hand, smiling warmly. "You must be Mr. Snow, my name is Missandei Naath."
He did not confirm, but shook her hand, and she did the same with Arya, who grunted an acknowledgement when Missandei said she must be Arya Stark. He kept his gaze fixed on Daenerys.
The Dragon Queen.
In the headlights, her silver hair glowed, its own beacon. He couldn't see the shade of her eyes in the darkness, but he knew they were purple. Some shade of it, at least, and they weren't contacts. He ran his tongue over his teeth again, wondering what she had between her and her crisp black dress. It slicked over her like a second skin.
Missandei stepped backwards, folding her hands in front of her and smiling politely. "I hope you do not mind, but Grey will have to ensure you aren't carrying weapons."
Arya hissed between clenched teeth. "We were informed that part of this arrangement would be that no one would be carrying."
"And you and I both know that neither of us intended on following that," Missandei said, still smiling, only now there was a bite to it. Her eyes flashed. "Place them on the SUV and we shall do the same."
Arya glanced at him; he barely nodded. She growled and began to disarm. Knives, guns, all manner of objects began to emerge from beneath her jacket and in her boots. He simply took out the handgun from his back and the one on his ankle, setting them down, and watching as Missandei and Grey did the same.
Daenerys continued to stare straight at him, not a single expression on her face.
She was one cool dragon, Jon figured, cocking his head a little, trying to size her up further. The Dragon Queen. He nodded in her direction. “Ms. Targaryen,” he acknowledged, letting his Northern accent drawl her name. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He smiled, flashing his teeth, wolfish. “It’s a pleasure.”
To his surprise, the woman smiled, long and slow, her eyes crinkling in the corners. She smirked, walking closer, and he got a whiff of jasmine perfume.
She spoke, her voice lilting with a slight Valyrian accent, “We’ll see.”
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