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#these tags are starting to get unruly
impeakcharacterdesign · 4 months
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Just the Tip
— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —
MDNI!!!
Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.
But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.
Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.
No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe
Enjoy!!!
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The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.
Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.
These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.
Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.
You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.
You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.
You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.
So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.
“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.
And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.
Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.
You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.
Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.
God, you wished it was you that was touching him.
Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.
The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”
You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”
You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.
You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.
It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.
God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.
The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.
“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —
And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.
“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.
"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat
His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.
But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him
“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”
Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.
You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.
When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.
“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.
This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.
He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.
Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.
Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.
His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.
“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.
This moment in time was just for the two of you.
“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”
Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.
3K notes · View notes
joonberriess · 5 months
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⊹₊ ⋆ “They can't deny our love, they can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time, I promise I'll be right here, standing next to you,”
TAGS — drunk sex, dirty talkin’, jk’s a pervy mess, oc is smitten this time round bc she’s soft, unprotected sex, creampies, oc rides it nice n good before jk pounds her, tit play(?) not much, anGSTY, like full on crying bro, making out, like a lot, oc n jk go on a date, THERE IS PLOT THIS TIME, mentioned shower sex, messy sex, oc’s got that creamy puss—, soft ;( , sleazy baby daddy au!
WORD COUNT — 6.9 k
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The day started out like any other: you woke up, dressed Jiho for school following your usual routine of heading to the gym after dropping your baby off. From there you headed to the office to catch up on unfinished projects, a meeting or two slipped into your schedule but nothing too crazy. You manage to squeeze in a small break at home before having to go and get Jiho.
It’s a Friday and you realize that you don’t have much planned for the day or weekend so you decide on dropping off Jiho at your moms and enjoying a weekend of solitude to yourself. You’re practically daydreaming about taking the biggest nap of your life after this, hell maybe you can finally taste that new wine you recently bought. You practically buzz with excitement on the way, and back home.
Unfortunately life had a funny way of working sometimes.
“Hello?” You sigh deeply whilst pacing back and forth. It was just your luck that your car decided to be a pain in the ass by breaking down on the side of the road. Now you’re stranded outside of the city after dropping off Jiho.
“Baby? What’s up, somethin’ wrong?” Jungkook replies, you can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, “You callin’ cause you miss my dick–”
“No dipshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance, “I got left stranded after dropping Jiho with my mom, car gave out on me and now I’m stuck outside the city kinda.” You look around, “Can you come help me out please?”
“Sure, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes top. Did you call the tow truck or nah? If you didn’t I can call while I’m on my way.”
You sigh in relief, “No I didn’t, but call your one friend. I’ll send you the location right now, bye.” You hang up and quickly send him your location. There isn’t really much to do so you sit back and scroll through your social medias to pass the time. Jungkook stays true to his word though and shows up in twenty minutes like he had promised. He’s not in his car though because today he’s brought his motorcycle.
“Hey.” You greet calmly and step out of your car. You make your way over to him, coming to a stop in front of his bike with your arms folded over your chest. You would rather not admit to anything (at least out loud) but he looks pretty hot, you can see his unruly hair underneath his helmet.
Jungkook slips his helmet off and shakes his hair out of his face, “Hi baby,” he grins, “so what happened here, hm?” He talks to you like he’s talking to a toddler, all teasing and shit. You don’t bother hiding your annoyance as you roll your eyes, making him laugh, “Alright, alright, but seriously what happened mama?” He leans over to bring you into his side, landing an obnoxious wet smooch over your lips.
You scrunch your face up and nod your head in the direction of the car, “Stopped out of nowhere, turned off and everything.”
He looks over at it and hums, “Pop the hood for me, gonna give it a look before Eunwoo comes.” He lets you go and rounds the front of the car, giving you a thumbs up to pop the hood up for him.
It unlocks and Jungkook opens it up leaning over the car with quiet “tch, tch, tch” noises as he tries to see what was wrong with it. You step out to watch him closely, trying to ignore how good he looks in a white wife beater with his arms and tattoos all out. Jungkook doesn’t even have to try when it comes to getting you hot and bothered.
“Shit babe,” Jungkook hisses and recoils, “you need to get the oil changed, ‘s fuckin burned and dried out. Top of that, I think the battery is either old or it just needs a charge.” He shakes his head with a grimace.
You sigh in relief, happy that it wasn’t anything major, “I’ll get it checked out at the shop then,” you help him slam the hood closed, “thanks.”
“Mm,” he leans against the car staring down at you, “need a ride back home?” He licks his lips, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s checking you out in broad daylight with that lecherous look in his eyes.
You nod, “Please, it’s finally my day off and this happens.” You chuckle bitterly and kick a rock, “Was looking forward to a nap, guess that won’t be happening.”
“Hm, I know a way we could pass the time..” He slides his hand around your waist, teasingly pulling at the belt loop of your jeans, “I can make you forget ‘bout all this mess mama.” He says in a low tone, “Just say the word..”
You bring him close with a hand around the back of his neck, lips inches away and eyes full of lust. “You’re so cute,” you softly breathe out as his eyes light up with arousal, “but no.” You pinch his arm extra hard, listening in satisfaction when he cries out in pain, “I’m not fucking you on the side of the road. Especially since Eunwoo might be close by, yeah no thanks.” You snort.
“Ow you fucking hurt me.” Jungkook hisses, “You left a mark! Look at that!” He thrusts his arm out to show the red mark you left, “Kiss it better.” He huffs quietly and eyes you expectantly.
You look back at him with a blank stare, “No,” you step to the side and look out for the tow truck, “last I checked I’m not the one responsible for kissing boo-boos,” you fold your arms over your chest, “you’re a grown ass man deal with it.”
Jungkook quietly laughs under his breath, “No you’re right—I can give you something else to kiss better.” He dodges your hand, laughing loudly while ignoring the colorful words you spew at him, “C’mon it was a little funny.”
“No it wasn’t,” you hiss while smacking his arm, “you’re so fuckin’ dumb Jungkook.” You try hard to fight off the chuckle stuck in your throat, “Oh my god.” You turn away, shoulders shaking as you quietly laugh to yourself.
Jungkook comes behind you to pull you into his chest while swaying side to side with you, “C’mere,” he leans down to kiss the side of your face, “go out for dinner with me, saw a new place open up and it has a lot of your favorites.” He murmurs in your ear.
“Yeah?’ You reply softly, “Where is it?”
“Gangnam,” Jungkook curtly replies while burying his face into your shoulder, “you down for some fun?”
You haven’t been out since your last girls trip to Jeju and that was like two months ago. Fuck it—you think—it’s friday and you don’t have to worry about work till tuesday. With Jiho being out for the weekend you guess you can unwind too. Plus Jungkook could be fun to be around with..sometimes. You won’t ever admit it though, what Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Okay, sounds good. You need to drop me off at my apartment though, gotta get ready ‘n stuff.” You see the tow truck pulling into the side of the road, “C’mon, your friend’s here.” You pull away and start walking towards your car.
In the end Jungkook takes you to his apartment to get ready, he literally has you packing a overnight bag with everything you could possibly need for a weekend stay. You don’t even know why you agree to staying the weekend with him but Jungkook says something about Gangnam being close to his place and how he’d probably not be able to drive you back home if you two end up finishing late at night. You know it’s not that though, but you don’t have the heart to call him out for it.
“Lace,” Jungkook smirks as he looks at the underwear you dropped on his bed after opening up your bag, “red too, damn this for me mama?” He dangles the cheeky pair of panties up in the air.
You hum in response, not really focused on him because you’re trying to fix your grinder, “Gonna pregame or what?” You finally say after getting it to work, “Or you too old Jeon?” You stick your tongue out with a smirk while adding in some bud.
Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Babe you trying to get me cross-faded? Fuck I don’t even think I’ve pregamed in a while, don’t wanna get shit-faced just yet though,” he scratches his nose, “so shots? We both need to remember our livers don’t work like they used to.”
“Yeah, yeah hold on.. let me finish real quick.” You mumble to yourself. The blunt hangs from your lips when you finish rolling it, old habits die hard you guessed when you go around picking up Jungkook’s clothes off the ground. You go around cleaning a little bit of his room before heading into his bathroom to start the water.
You and Jungkook smoke about half of the blunt together before taking a shot, which you end up pulling a face at and shaking your head, “Fuck I haven’t drank this shit since college,” you wipe your lips, “ugh, I’m gonna go shower. Bleh,” you try to get the bitter taste out of your mouth while disappearing into his bathroom.
Of course Jungkook doesn’t leave you alone as he follows you into the shower. By the time you’re both out there’s only a hour left before you two have to head out, “Babe I invited Hoseok and Yoongi if that’s cool with you,” he says loudly from inside the walk-in closet, “Yoongi said something about him and your one friend going together.”
“Who Hyejin?” You try to reply while lining your lips, “She’s the one who texted me like ten minutes ago,” you smack your lips together, “or is it someone else?”
Jungkook comes out wearing a black blazer over a white top, “Uhh I think?” He passes by with a cheeky ass grab, “ready for another shot?” He heads out to bring back the bottle, “Or you going to drink from the bottle?” He smirks lazily, you both end up taking a swig from the bottle.
“Okay, I’m ready.” You pull one of Jungkook’s black leather jackets over your body, “I don’t care if you only had one drink or no drinks, we’re both walking or getting a ride got it? I don’t wanna hear you complaining about having to leave the car overnight,” you sternly say to him as you both head out together, “I’m not trying to die in the middle of fuckin’ fall, ‘s freezing tonight.” You shiver a little.
Jungkook snorts, “Babe I’m a little cross-faded, but it’ll go away I promise-” he stops himself from finishing his sentence when he sees the glare you’re sending his way, “okay, okay, fine we’re gonna catch a ride home.” He winds his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closely, “Nice little date night isn’t it?”
You snort quietly and look up at him in amusement, “Date? Ew, as if. We haven’t been on one of those in ages.”
“Don’t be such a little party pooper, first date and you’re already complaining? I’m hurt baby,” Jungkook holds the lobby door open for you, smacking your ass when you slip past him, “just wait and see, ‘m gonna make this the best night ever.”
His words make you roll your eyes, “Sure.” You’re secretly endeared though, and you can’t help but wonder what has you so soft with him today. Usually you found it annoying when he said corny/sappy shit but for some reason it’s cute? Maybe you really were in a good mood.
.
“Well don’t you look pretty,” Hyejin grins as she slips her arm around you waist, “you lil’ fuckin floozy, you fucked him didn’t you?” She laughs softly, “Look at all the marks, fuck lemme see,” she tries to take a peek into your dress.
“Hyejin,” you hiss while pushing her off of you, “you’re gonna show my entire tit to everyone around, stop.” You quietly laugh, “And for your information we didn’t go all the way because I didn’t let him, he only ate me out I swear.” You whisper into her ear, jumping in alarm and rushing to cover her mouth when she yells out loud.
She winks at you deviously before going back to her seat next to Yoongi. It’s nice being with friends like this, plus the restaurant was everything you hoped for. The vibes and atmosphere were pleasant, it was kinda reminding you of your college days when you and your friends stayed out late. It brings a tiny smile to your face.
“So how you been y/n?” Hoseok speaks up, “Felt like I haven’t seen you in forever.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, eyes taking in the way you’re both sitting so close.
“Been good, just working nothing too crazy, how bout you?” You nod your head at him, “Still doing that thing you told me about—fuck I keep forgetting what it was—but yea, you still doing that or..?”
Hoseok sips his beer with a nod, “Yeah,” he notices the way Jungkook’s hand tightens around your shoulder, “ ‘s gotten busier but business is good so I can’t complain you know?” He sheepishly smiles.
You briefly look over at Jungkook to see he’s got his tongue poking the inside of his cheek—the thing he does when he’s either angry or bothered—you’re not so sure why he’s pissy but you don’t dwell on it, “That’s good, let me know how it goes though. Can’t say I’m not interested from what you told me.” You feel Jungkook squeeze your arm, releasing it after a couple of seconds and then going back to stroking his hand up and down.
You both stay huddled close the rest of the night, Jungkook keeps his hand over your thigh and you have your head against his shoulder. The night only gets wilder as the restaurant turns into a full party with people singing and enjoying the loud music, Hoseok orders shots for everyone and by the time you check your phone to see that it’s one in the morning you’ve already lost count of how many drinks both you and Jungkook had.
“Another shot or what? You said you could out drink me, I wanna see your ass try,” Yoongi hiccups while sending you a glare, you notice that Hyejin’s already passed out with her face buried in his neck.
You grunt in annoyance and push at Jungkook’s arm, “Didn’t say, I know I can.” You rumble back and manage to take the shot, “Now you asshole.” You nod your head, “Hurry up Yoongi, you’re getting old or what?” You snicker.
He makes a face and manages to down it, “Fuckin’ hell, so nasty.” He shakes his head, “We’re too old to be doing this shit, fuckin’ Hoseok tapped out on the third shot! Look at his ass, he’s not waking up anytime soon.” He groans.
“Yeah I think I’m done too, getting so fuckin dizzy,” Jungkook sighs and looks over at you, “ready to tap out too baby?” He hums as he leans in to rest his face in your shoulder.
You nod slowly, “Yeah, my head hurts too.” You sigh deeply and wave the waitress down. Yoongi generously closes the entire tab and heads out with Hyejin and Hoseok to wait for a taxi. You and Jungkook take a couple of minutes to gather your thoughts before heading out to follow them.
You stick around outside to make sure that Yoongi, Hyejin, and Hoseok get into the uber together before heading back to Jungkook’s. It feels a lot warmer walking hand in hand with him, you find yourself grinning like a idiot, “Hey Jungkook,”
“Hm?” Jungkook stops to look at you.
“Does that playground by your house still have that one swing where two people can go on it together?” You smile.
He blinks a couple of times in confusion before a knowing smile crosses over his face, “Yeah, it does.” He squeezes your hand.
You both end up giggling like children while swinging around in the air on opposite sides facing each other. You squeal when Jungkook pushes you both extra hard, causing you to swing a bit faster as you land on the ground and huff with effort to push the two of you. “Fuck I haven’t done this much workout since Jiho joined soccer,” you chuckle.
Jungkook huffs quietly, hot breath going foggy in front of his mouth showing just how cold it was. “Fucking freezing, gonna get blisters from this shit babe.” He swings you both once more, smiling brightly when he hears you squeal again, “Shit you look like you’re having more fun than I am.”
“Cause I am,” you grin softly and let go of the handles, “but fuck you’re right, my hands hurt and they smell like iron.” You wait for Jungkook so that you two could go inside since the cold weather was starting to get to you. “C’mon I’m cold.” You purse your lips and shove your hands into your pockets.
Jungkook quickly follows after you. You both manage to get in, stumbling over each other with giggles and drunken jokes. Jungkook doesn’t make it before he’s crashing on the floor, sending you into hysterics as you bend over clutching your knees laughing. “Babe help me up!” Jungkook whines.
“H-Hold on,” you wipe your tears, “c’mere.” You haul his ass up, giggling hysterically at his messed up hair.
“And what you laughin’ at hm?” Jungkook wraps his arms around you and tugs you close, “C’mon tell me,” he whines and leans down to slide his lips over yours. Immediately you lean into the kiss, deepening it as you slip a hand over his cheek and cup it gently. His lips move over your own, gliding gently and slotting perfectly over your own.
Jungkook crowds you into the wall as he tries backing you into the living room causing you both to stumble. You don’t seperate from the kiss though even after almost falling back because you’re both tripping over something laying on the ground. Jungkook pulls back briefly, chuckling drunkly when he sees you’re both not in the living room, in fact you’re both heading towards his kitchen.
“Babe,” he softly mumbles as he caresses your cheek, “hol’ on, move that way.” He smothers you in another hot kiss, refusing to part even for a second.
You grumble softly into the kiss and pull away, “Can’t,” you mumble and let him kiss you again, “you’re kissin’ me and I can’t see where I’m goin.” You have a dopey smile on your face, “Lemme,” pause. “lemme take you to bed,” you slur out.
Jungkook nods eagerly and follows after you. His hands are impatient as he works his jacket off of you, he growls in frustration when he can’t quite get you out of the pretty dress you wore tonight. “Fuckin’ hell help me,” he pouts and kicks the door open, “can’t get it off, need to see you naked,” he giggles, “c’mon, help me.” He gives you puppy eyes.
“Paws off,” you growl playfully while stripping from your dress, “I got this.” You send him a pointed look and head over to his large comfy bed. You let yourself fall dramatically on it, arms and legs spread out like you’re a starfish or something.
Jungkook climbs over you a few seconds later, you notice he’s already shirtless as he grins softly down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, “Hi baby.” He whispers softly between the two of you. You giggle quietly and smile back at him with a ‘hi’, he looks funny. The world around you spins in endless circles, fueling your dizziness and motion sickness.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, “best baby mama ever.” He leans down, mouth hovering over your neck as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over the warm flesh. You sigh quietly and lean into his touch feeling all warm inside from how endearing he was being.
“More.” You quietly reply, you want to hear all about how pretty you are to him. You’d never openly admit but Jungkook makes you feel special with the way he’s obsessed with you. On the surface he sure as hell was a dirty sleazy pervert but you knew he was genuine with you, even if his words were a little crude and unsavory at times.
Jungkook hums, “More what baby?” He softly asks while pulling back to look down at you, “Want me to touch you more?” He grins cheekily, “Coz I’m not complaining, love touchin’ and feeling on you.. So pretty,” he whispers as his eyes trail over you, “mine too..”
The ‘yours’ sits on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason it never leaves your mouth. “Stop playing around before I fall asleep,” you smack your lips with a dazed expression on your face, “then you won’t get to touch, only look.”
His eyes light up and he doesn’t say anything else, instead he captures you for a messy little kiss while his chilled hands slide down your sides and to your hips where those red panties sit. He teases you by pulling on the waistband, letting it snap back a few times before he finally pulls them down. You’re quivering in excitement, your own hands come up to unbutton his pants with ease.
Jungkook helps you shove them off, his boxers go with them two until you’re both laid bare for eachother. He lies flat over you with his chest right against yours, he takes his sweet time mapping every crevice and surface of your body. You’re not used to this time of affection in bed with him given that most of your fuckings were nasty and to the point. No, tonight’s different.
“Will never get used to how pretty you are,” he murmurs while laying kisses over your throat and chest, “just wanna keep you like this forever.” He whispers out as his hot mouth envelops a nipple.
He lays his tongue flat over your sensitive bud, lapping at it and teasing around it. Your lips part as quiet breathy sighs and moans leave you, only yelping when Jungkook fully encases your nipple with his lips wrapped around it tightly. “Fuck,” you tangle a hand in his hair and watch with hooded eyes.
Jungkook’s other hand comes up to fondle your neglected tit, pinching and rolling your hard nipple between his fingers in tandem with his powerful sucks. He switches back between both of them, leaving a small trail of spit as he goes. You don’t know how much of his teasing you can take, your cunt’s throbbing and more slick is dripping between your plush folds and down the crevice of your ass no doubt staining his sheets.
“No more,” you say when your nipples were sucked raw, “need you n’ my pussy,” you shift around and roll Jungkook on to his back, “gonna ride it, jus’ the way you like it.” You tease softly and leave a open-mouthed kiss over his mouth, sighing quietly when you feel his hot cock against your inner thigh.
“Mm,” he sighs as his head drops on the bed, eyes slipped in utter bliss as he holds your hips in his hands, “yeah—want you to ride it for me baby, wanna watch you bounce on it.” He rolls his hips upward as his cock bumps and slides against you.
You take his cock into your hand and stroke over it slowly, occasionally tapping it over your folds and smearing your slick over him. You catch sight of his dark cock, all swollen and throbbing in your hold. It makes your mouth water as you eagerly lift your hips and slip the tip between your folds until it catch over your winking hole. Both of your breath hitches as you ease him into you, hissing in pleasure as your cunt spreads around the mushroom-y tip, pink rim spreading and hugging him tightly.
Jungkook’s lips part in a long moan, he scrunches his face up in pleasure and rubs his hands over the swell of your ass cheeks. “Oh fuck baby,” he whispers, “jus’ a little more,” he groans, “fuck!” He hisses when you bottom out with a loud smack, your ass clapping off his pelvis as you seat yourself with his cock stuffed deep inside of you.
“So good,” you hum and give a few experimental rolls, just loving how deep he is from this position.
Your hands come down to settle over his chest for leverage, you don’t wait any longer before you’re bouncing idly over his cock. The excess slick begins rolling down to his balls creating a low audible squelch. Jungkook doesn’t really say much other than a few curses and whispers of your name. Your own noises come out breathy and low, constrasting the fopping sound your ass makes when it smacks against his thighs.
The bed frame begins to creak under your weight, slowly you begin speeding up until you’re full on bouncing on his cock. You ride till the tip remains inside before coming back down and slamming your hips over his. Jungkook’s grunts and moans rise in volume from the delicous pressure around his cock, your pussy grips him so tight he feels your rim hugging him almost as if you were refusing to let his cock go.
“Shit y/n,” the way your name rolls off his tongue sends butterflies deep in your tummy as you eagerly bounce, “like that, fuck it feels so fucking good, gripping me so tight,” he rolls his hips upward to meet your bounces, “oh fuck.” He throws his head back and grits his teeth.
You mewl quietly and switch from bouncing to grinding, you roll your hips back and forth over his cock and reach behind you to stroke and fondle his balls that press tightly against your ass. He moans loud and bucks his hips into you roughly, somehow punching his cock deeper with the tip kissing your cervix.
“Jungkook..!” You gasp out as your toes curl.
He brings his arms up to hoist you off and on to the bed, rolling the two of you over as he hikes a hand under your knee and lifts your leg up while he fucks into your pussy wildly. The new angle has his cock striking your g-spot over and over again with calculated thrusts. He punches loud moans and whimpers out of your lips, the pleasure bubbles over and has your pussy gripping him so tight it’s hard for him to backstroke.
“Look at me baby,” he pants, “yeah, show me that pretty face mama.. Look at you, taking my cock so well in that slutty little pussy. Got you drippin’ for me like I said you would, feel that?” He slows down and grinds into you slowly, hips circling in figure of eights as his cock rubs over your walls slowly, “See what you do to me baby? Got me all worked up for you, pussy’s suckin me in so well can’t help it.” He groans.
Your mouth falls open in a ‘o’ when he plunges into you quickly, fucking his cock in and out at a rapid pace. Slick dribbles all around with some splattering over the sheets and sliding down your pussy to your ass. His balls are heavy as they swing and smack into your ass repeatedly, every so often his cock throbs pathetically from inside of you.
“Oh god,” you whisper and throw your head back, “fuck right there Jungkook..!” You let out a shout of pleasure as he hits your g-spot over and over again without missing. He has you sliding up the bed from his brutal pace, the pleasure rising and rising as you grit your teeth and try to fight off your impending orgasm.
“Go on baby, cum for me.” Jungkook whispers, “C’mon mama, lemme see you cum all over my cock, make it nice and messy for me.” He rasps out and grips the pillow lying by your head tightly as he grits his teeth and fucks into you harder if it was possible.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, your entire body locks up as you let out a pathetic little cry of pleasure. You cum with a loud moan of his name, clinging desperately to him with your arms loosely wrapped around his back and your legs locked around him to keep his cock inside. Your cunt milks his cock for all its worth, squeezing spasmodically from the aftershock of your orgasm.
Jungkook moans low at the feeling around his cock as he slams himself deep a total of three times before he finally cums. His cock pulses, hot cum filling your pussy to the brim with some of it seeping from the sides of your cunt. He sits up to look down at the mess between you, whistling out of breath when he sees the creamy white slick smeared over his pelvis and your pussy.
“Fuck, made a fuckin’ mess.” He chuckles breathlessly and teasingly rubs his thumb over your neglected swollen clit, “Didn’t need to touch this lil thing to get you to cum.” He purrs.
Your thighs twitch and you twist around to avoid any touch to your sensitive cunt, “Stopppp,” you whine softly and bury your face in the pillow, “ ‘m so sleepy Kook,” you smack your lips and blink slowly, “bed’s dirty though..”
Jungkook brings you into his arms and sighs, “Looks like we’re sleeping in the guest bedroom.” He murmurs and rolls out of bed, “C’mon,” he holds his hand out, “let’s get you to bed mama.”
You smile shyly when he says it like that, slipping out on shaky legs and following after him.
+
“I’m never drinking like that ever again,” you quietly moan while slipping on Jungkook’s slippers and tugging the hoodie over your head, “don’t forget to bring my phone,” you say to Jungkook as you step out of the apartment.
“Got it..” He mumbles and follows after you.
You’re both obviously not in the mood for cooking or anything so Jungkook suggested the convenience store for breakfast (in this case lunch because you two slept in all morning). Jungkook walks hand in hand with you the whole way, only letting go when you both split up to get your respective items. Jungkook of course pays and helps you make both your ramen bowls while you sit by the window poking your drink and mixing it around.
“You look a hot mess,” Jungkook says when he’s walking over, “a sexy hot mess.” He cheekily adds in when you turn to give him a look. “What? I like you with smudged ass mascara and leftover lipstick, gives you that sexy bed look.” He winks.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not looking so hot either with lipstick all over your jaw.” You grin in amusement, “What did you get?”
Jungkook opens the black bag and sets all the snacks he got out onto the table, “This kimchi onigiri, uhhh sausage links, and this rolled egg thingy I don’t know.” He shrugs.
You eye the onigiri in curiosity, “Hm.” You mix your ramen around and open the seasoning packet, “Do you mind driving me to get my car? Eunwoo texted me last night saying it was gonna be ready for pick up later on, said that the battery’s charged now, he’s gonna just change the oil next.” You mumble.
“Yeah, wanna go after this? Eunwoo’s probably out on break, I can do the oil change myself.” He slurps his noodles loudly, cheekily grinning at you afterwards.
“Mm, fine with me. Just don’t fuck up my car or you’re paying for it.” You sip your drink just as loud.
.
Eunwoo doesn’t end up being there but he leaves Jungkook a key and a note telling him about what your car needs. Jungkook wastes no time in getting to work as he slips his shirt off and works in his white tank top. You sit in a chair just watching him work while singing silently under his breath. You can’t quite shake the uneasy feeling you get in your gut, all this—playing couple and pretending like nothing’s wrong.
It makes your heart twist bitterly seeing him like this, all domestic and shit. Even the night before when you guys were at dinner. Hell the playground was enough for you to realize what was going on. You’re not so sure you can go back to pretending like you two aren’t a thing after this. You can only hold it in so much before it all starts crumbling down.
“Babe,” Jungkook slips out from under the car, “pass me the funnel behind you, I already drained it.” He wipes his dusty cheek, “Babe?”
“Oh yeah, here.” You hand him the funnel, “What, do I have something on my face?” You say after noticing how intently he’s staring at you.
Jungkook shakes his head, “Nah, just admiring how cute my baby mama looks.” He smiles teasingly and goes back to work before you can even reply. “So, you doing anything after this? I was kinda hoping we could spend a day in watching movies and shit, ‘m still pretty hungover.”
“Yeah..” You nod, “Sounds good I’m not feeling the greatest either,” you turn to look at anything but him. You don’t know why but you’re hit with a swirl of emotions and it’s starting to sizzle under your skin and make you irritated. The more you think about it, the more agitated you slowly become.
“Hey,” he suddenly says in front of you, “got something on your mind?” His lips hover over yours before he closes the distance between you two. The kiss is sweet and gentle, it has your poor little heart throbbing inside of your chest. Jungkook’s lips smack quietly against yours, as he brings his hands up to hold the sides of your face.
You softly hum into the kiss and bring your arms around his neck. He makes a pleased noise and caresses his thumb over your cheek and jawline. It’s the sweet moments like this that have you doubting, you’re not so sure you can keep up with him anymore. He does all these sweet things and it just lulls you into a false security with him, like everything is okay and things were the way they used to be.
You want that..
Jungkook parts from the kiss and stares deep into your eyes, “You with me baby?” He say when he takes in how distracted you look.
“Yeah,” you softly whisper, “ ‘m here.” You bring him back for another passionate kiss, this time effectively blocking out all those little voices in your head.
Jungkook grunts in surprsie as he hoists you up with him, backing you into the counter nearby and swiping all the tools clear from the surface. His breath is ragged and heavy, touch quickly becoming possessive and desperate as he paws at your thighs and hips. You part your legs for him and let him step in between them, moaning quietly when his hips press over your sore cunt.
The empty garage is filled with soft panting and breathless sighs, your lips meet Jungkook’s over and over until they’re swollen and glossed over with spit n slick. You attack his neck in a flurry of kisses and pull him closer, practically hugging his body tight to yours as the two of you leave sloppy marks all over each other. You go to leave another mark but Jungkook’s quick to pull away with a quiet ‘wait, wait’.
“Get back together with me,” he suddenly pulls back, breathless and panting with wild eyes, “I want us to be a real couple—not whatever this shit is where one day you let me love on you and another you don’t.” His eyes are filled with hope as he pleads with you.
You stare at him in shock, mostly because hello the timing? You quickly shake those thoughts out and sit up, “Jungkook you can’t just ask me that out of nowhere, especially not with you standing between my thighs.” You sigh heavily, “Let’s just talk about this some other time.” You look away.
Jungkook frowns, “No, I think it’s a perfect time now. You say some other time but then you forget and play it off with work and other stuff. I just..I just wanna know where we stand, I’m tired of doing this back and forth thing baby.. It’s sending mixed signals, can’t tell whether you really want me or you’re planning to cut me out for good.”
You’re at loss this time, for the first time regarding the breakup you don’t have anything to say. It’s not something you easily know the answer to, not when you yourself is still trying to find the answers to these things. Jungkook should know by now this isn’t something that comes so easily. “Why? So you can be happy you ended up winning after what you did? So everyone can see you got your way despite being a shitty person Jungkook?”
He looks surprised like he wasn’t expecting your response, “Baby—no, where is this coming from?” He stands up intending to comfort you because he can see how quickly you’re growing upset with the way your frown deepens and tone morphs to hurt.
“Then what is it Jungkook?” You say in exasperation, “Is this gonna be your ‘I told you so’ moment? You play me like a fucking fool and come back years later with a slap on the wrist and suddenly everything is better between the two of us?” You blink the tears away, “It’s not fucking fair and you know it.” You fold your arms over your chest.
Jungkook shakes his head, “No, no, no, it’s none of that. I just wanted you to know I’m tired of going back and forth and never ending up nowhere with us..”
“Well guess what, I’m tired too Jungkook. Tired of pretending like nothing ever happened, like there isn’t a reason why we ended up like this in the first place.” You wipe your tears.
“y/n, I know things weren’t the best before and I fucked it up, I know—trust me. You don’t think I don’t regret what happened years back? It fucking eats at me every night because you’re not by my side anymore—”
“That’s the thing Jungkook! You don’t fucking get it,” you sob, “YOU were the love of my life, you were everything to me! And for you to do what you did-” you choke up and cover your mouth, “and I’m supposed to heal from that? I never did, and I never will because the person I trusted the most—who I loved so much—fucking betrayed me. Do you have any idea how I felt? You were my everything, and you fucking threw it away!” You scream in anger and frustration.
“Y-You broke me,” you hiccuped, “it’s not fair that you get to come back like nothing, ‘n now everyone’s gonna look at me like a fool because I got back together with my shitty baby daddy.” You sniffle, “I have thought about us for a while, but I’m scared because I don’t know if you’re going to do the same thing all over again.”
Jungkook’s own eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, he quietly sniffs and clears his throat, “I’m sorry y/n, I never did get the chance to but I’m sorry for everything. But not once did I stop loving you ever, you were my everything too—and you still are. Nothing about the way I’ve felt about you has changed, and it never will either. I realize how impulsive I was just now so,” he drops to his knees in front of you and holds your hands, “please y/n, let me prove to you I can still make you and Jiho happy. I don’t care if you wanna make me wait until you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting for you. Just please, give me one last chance..”
You desperately want to say no, but you’re weak. You’re too busy clinging to every little memory of him in the past to fill that emptiness in your heart to notice that you’ve wanted him back all along. You feel the doubts begin to creep out of your body as you peer down at him, “You’ll..wait..?”
Jungkook nods, “As long as you want me to.” He whispers back.
“Okay..” You softly reply and squeeze his hands tightly, afraid that if you let him go he’ll vanish into thin air.
“Okay.” Jungkook sighs in relief, smiling up at you tenderly. He rises to his feet and brings you in for a tight hug, just relishing in your warmth and softness as he rocks the two of you side to side.
You close your eyes and let yourself sink into his arms, “You’ll be here with me right?” You lay your head on his chest.
“I’ll be right here,” he hums, “standing next to you.”
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kneelingshadowsalome · 5 months
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i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((
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Banner picture credit: @661ave
possession
noun
the state of having, owning, or controlling something.
Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint.  A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)
He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.
And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none. 
He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.
He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any. 
Family, or friends, that is.
When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?
It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute. 
There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need? 
Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir. 
She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…
And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.
She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven. 
He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?
He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago. 
It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus. 
He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy. 
When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away. 
It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home. 
Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard. 
It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.
His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.
It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube. 
Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.
He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her? 
And god, how he would fuck her… 
Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…
He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob. 
He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.
"Scheisse–"
He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.  
She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.
He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.
She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.
She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of. 
Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.
Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things? 
But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.
He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.
With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all. 
There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.
What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?
He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.
He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job. 
The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.
Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.
So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up. 
She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…
She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.
"I got you something... Merry Christmas."
"Aw… You shouldn't have…"
She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.
"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." 
He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.
He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb. 
Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for… 
"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically. 
Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present. 
Well, shit. Fuck.
"Don't worry about it."
"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."
"That’s nice to hear." 
"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."
He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.
"You already got me Christmas decorations."
"Yeah, but… You paid for them."
"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"
He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.
"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways. 
"I truly did."
She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.
"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying. 
"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."
She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.
"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.
"Yes?"
"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."
"...What does that mean?" 
"It means 'Happy New Year'."
"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"
Shit.
Shit.
Shit…
"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."
She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.
"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.
"Something naughty."
Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too. 
"Really…?"
"Yes."
"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."
Playful, naughty, dirty. 
She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.
Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening? 
"I want to lick your pussy."
There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.
"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"
"Ja."
It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.
Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress. 
With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.
When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.
"Go ahead then," she whispers.
He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.
She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.
It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips. 
Mein.
Mein.
Mein…
He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.
Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.
And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.
He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin. 
"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"
He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries. 
To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.
"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"
She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams. 
The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin. 
Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined. 
Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.
And he's only about to fuck her…
"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.
"Oh–oh god…"
Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds. 
"Wait–"
"I will fuck you now."
"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"
She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for. 
"Hm. I don't have any."
"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child... 
But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.
Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...? 
How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?
She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft. 
"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.
She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go. 
"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"
"I am."
He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.
And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.
He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.
"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."
Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove. 
"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"
It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.
"Ok…" 
"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"
"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"
The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.
"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.
"O‐oh…?"
"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."
"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"
If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness. 
"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."
He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had. 
He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely. 
"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"
"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"
Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.
He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog. 
"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"
He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck. 
She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.
"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"
She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.
"Will you stay? For the night…?"
His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content. 
"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”
She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity. 
She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.
“I'm sorry..."
"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.
For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.
He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…
She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.
She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.
He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.
It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.
The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women. 
When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.
"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."
There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.
And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.
"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"
She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…
"Liebling... Me too."
"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."
"Oh I fear a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like… flying, for example."
"But you fly all the time?"
"Exactly."
She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…
"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."
She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.
If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one. 
"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"
"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"
"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."
She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in. 
He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.
What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs. 
This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him. 
"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.
"...What?" 
He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.
"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.
"What do you mean.”
She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.
"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."
He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.
"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."
Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.
So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…
And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy. 
But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…
"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"
"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."
"Well, neither am I."
He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.
"No one is."
"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes. 
"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."
"Liebling…"
"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"
"Of course."
She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets. 
He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his. 
Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…
And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise. 
He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.
But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.
"Are you still afraid?"
He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness. 
"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."
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gojo-mochi · 5 months
Text
Asking JJK Men if you could watch them jerk off (Part 1; w/Toji, Gojo, and Geto)
CW: Dom!Toji and Soft!DomGeto, Gojo is sort of a Sub if you look closely. Usage of spit and praising, degrading words. Daddy kink for Toji as well. Part 2 will be with Choso, Sukuna, and Nanami. Comment to be tagged in Part 2 or comment who you wanna see in part 3! 
Part 2 Here!
Word Count: 3.2k
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Toji: 
He will probably make you beg for it. If you wanna watch him so badly, you should show how badly you want it. He’ll sit manspread on the couch, his beefy thighs on either end. Pulling up the waistband of his gray sweats and letting it snap back into place. The outline of his hard cock can be seen every time he snaps it back. A wicked grin placed on his face as he watched you pout and whine that he was taking too long. He made you kneel on the floor in front of him, but slapped away your hand when you tried to take matters into your own hands and pull down his sweats yourself. 
“Tch. So fucking needy, can’t wait a goddamn minute, can you?” He sneered, scrunching up his nose at you. Still, his cock twitches with a heavy need; he would rather have your hands on him or, better yet, use that pretty throat of yours to fuck. But since you begged him so politely, he could let you have this one, just this once though. Finally pulling down his sweats, he never wears boxers at home so his cock springs up heavily, thick and red. The veins throbbing deliciously, making your mouth water at the sight. Some trickle of precum already tainting the unruly bush that Toji doesn’t bother to take care of.
 Toji’s hand easily engulfed and wraps around his own length, the scarred hand slowly running up and down on it. Toji lets out a soft hiss, moving his hand a bit faster before stopping abruptly. You blinked in confusion, you were enjoying the sight and started whining again asking why he stopped. He shushes you by putting a finger on your lips, from the same hand that he was jerking off with, so you could smell his musk when he did that. You were about to bite at his hand when he held his palm open in front of you. Uttering one command. 
“Spit.” 
You obeyed without a word, spitting right on Toji’s palm as he watched you with an intense gaze. He brought his other hand down to squeeze and pinch at your cheek with a mocking coo.
 “Good girl~” He said it sarcastically, but he knew that those words affected you either way, by the way you were rubbing your thighs together. Your hands inching down your skirt, trying to get some relief of your own. 
“You better keep your hands to yourself, if you want me to continue, doll.” You glared at him, crossing your arms and huffing out. “Well, get on with it then, Toji.” He raises an eyebrow at you, his hand back on his cock but not moving this time. “What was that, doll?” Silence, you didn’t dare make a sound, knowing that you made the wrong move by calling him by his name. “Eyes on me, doll.” Your eyes barely got to look at the ground for a mere second before Toji made you snap them back up. Cowering back a bit, you muttered an apology. “Sorry, Daddy….” 
Toj stares at you for what seems like an eternity, making you sweat and shrink in yourself even more. He snorts at your display; “Keep those eyes on me, you were the one who wanted this, so watch.” You straighten up your back, your eyes glued onto Toji’s form. He takes it slow again, gently coating his cock with your spit, grunting as all the talk before made it a little bit cold. His hand leisurely went up his length, his thumb playing with his slit for a bit, then coming down. Repeating this process a couple times as you watch on in awe, memorizing and soaking in every little reaction Toji made. From the low grunts and hisses he made to the way his cock twitched slightly every time he passed a certain vein. 
Your spit wasn’t enough to completely cover everything, so he started using some of the precum that gushed out to help. You wring your hands together, watching Toji flutter his eyelashes and emit a deep groan, your pussy fluttering as well. “Is this what you wanted, huh? Needy little thing you…so fucking perverted aren’t you? Wanting to watch me jerk off.” He smirks at your mewls of embarrassment. Your hands balled into fists in your lap as you fought off the urge to disobey Toji’s earlier command. 
 “Hahhh-fuck- It be better if I were using that slutty mouth of yours instead, or better yet, I should be fucking that filthy pussy of yours. I bet she’s crying for me, right now, isn’t she?” Another groan gets out as Toji squeezes his tip, grunting heavily as he throws out more degrading words at you. “It's a shame for me to waste my cum like this, you know? After all, I know how much you like it when Daddy fills you up to the brim…” Your nails dig into your thighs as you rub them together, trying to get a little bit of friction you so desperately needed. 
After a few more passes of his hand, fisting his cock lazily, Toji threw his head back and sighed in annoyance; “I’m getting bored of this.” His eyes darken, taking in your appearance. Your chest, heaving up and down slowly, your hands shaking at your side, the sweet  blush that comes across the bridge of your nose. He grins down wolfishly at you, a hunger evident in his aura. He slaps his thigh with his free hand. “C’ere and help me, Doll. This will be your punishment for earlier…”
Satoru:
So, soooooo smug about it when you asked him if you could watch him do it. So annoying about it too, bending over and placing a hand behind his ear as he pretended not to hear you the first time. “Huh? What was that? You wanted to watch me do what?” He got right up in your personal space, you almost regretted asking him but pressed on anyway. “I want to watch you…jerk off in front of me, Satoru.” He grinned like a cat that had found a stash of cream, bending backwards this time so he could look up at you from below.  
Slipping a thumb under his blindfold and pulling it up just a bit to peek one eye up at you. “You wanna watch me? The Gojo Satoru?! Jerk his massive 10-inch cock right in-Mmph!” You clasped your hand over his mouth, looking around frantically to see if anyone was nearby to hear that. “Satoru! We are still in school!” You hissed at him, squealing and reeling your hand in disgust back when Satoru licked it. “Toru! Ugh! You’re such a child!” Satoru bounced back to his standing height, sticking out his tongue at you. 
“You were the one that asked me first, and I thought you liked it when I used my tongue on you.” He wiggled his eyebrow at you from underneath his blindfold, and you retorted back by wiping your stained hand on his shirt. He was about to say something back when Yuji’s boisterous voice called out to the both of you. “Gojo-Sensei! Y/N-Sensei!” He ran ahead of Nobara and Megumi, waving his arms up and down enthusiastically as he barreled toward you. Giving you an almost crushing bear hug, which you gladly returned. “Nice to see you too, Yuji.” 
 You felt Satoru’s immense jealous energy pour out from behind you, patting Yuji on the back and falling back to Satoru’s side. Nobara and Megumi catch up to Yuji, both of them giving you a knowing look as Satoru wraps his arm around your shoulder and begins to drag you away. Stating that you had teacher work to do or whatever. You can hear Yuji’s sad mumbling as he wanted to see if you and Satoru would go see Human Earthworm 3 remake with him. Nobara and Megumi sighed, dragging Yuji away. 
“Come on,We’ll go see that stupid movie with you.”
“I’m leaving halfway through though; there’s a sale happening at Harajuku that me and Maki are going to.” 
“What?! But that when the best part of the movie happens, it's when the scientist is revealed to actually be the-”
Your student's voice fades away as Satoru hurries you back to the school building, pushing you into an empty classroom and closing the door. He brings a chair right in front of the teacher desk, motioning for you to sit on it. Now you really regret asking him to do this, you hesitatingly sit down, watching Satoru’s action carefully. He made a big show for you, dancing around the teacher’s desk for a bit, doing a little spin and bow before propping down on top. 
Leaning back on one hand and crossing his legs, he tilts his head back a bit in a mocking stance. You fold your arms, deciding to play along with Satoru’s game, knowing that if you walk out now, he’s gonna pout about it for weeks on end. He points a finger at you silently, waiting for you to speak. You just shrugged at him, not knowing what he wanted from you, this only made Satoru furrow his brows in even deeper. 
“Do you understand why you’re here, Miss Y/N?”
“No, I don’t, Satoru-”
“Ah-Ah! It’s Gojo-Sensei to you.”
“.....Gojo-Sensei.” 
Satoru stifled a giggle, almost losing his composure. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward, clasping his hands together as he speaks down to you. “Well, I see that you've been slacking lately, perhaps feeling a little unmotivated?” He frowns, even fabricating a worried tone in his voice. You tuck some hair behind your ear, blinking in some tears in your eyes. “Sorry, Gojo-Sensei. It's just been getting hard for me to focus lately..” You wobble your lips cutely, making Satoru giggle for real this time, hiding it behind a cough right after.  
“Hmm.. that is a problem, but I think I know what I can do to help motivate you.” 
He takes off his blindfold first, letting his snowy hair fall down gracefully, framing his face beautifully. His hand comes down to unzip his pants, pulling down just enough for his bulge to show through his briefs. He palms at the bulge for a bit while he looks at you, licking his lips. “Nghhah-I want you to watch your teacher carefully, alright, my precious student?” Satoru’s voice rasps out, biting his bottom lips as he fishes out his cock, you always thought it was truly pretty. 
Not quite thick, but it makes it up in length and topped with a snowy patch that was always neatly trimmed. Your mouth dries up looking at Satoru’s long and slender fingers wrapped around his cock. His hands were pretty too, you thought silently, everything about Satoru just screamed an angelic beauty. He bucks up his hips into his hand, letting out a soft curse. “Fuck-mmphhh…” He keeps an even pace with his hand as he moves it up and down his own length, twisting it at the top and holding it there for a moment while he addresses you. “Come on now, tell your teacher your thoughts-nghh-tell him like that you like what you see..”  
 You shift on the chair, feeling your own arousal start to soak your panties; “I like it a lot, Gojo-Sensei. So good for me, you look so pretty…” Your compliment went straight to his cock; “Ye-yeah, baby? Tell me more, tell me how good I look right now.” He buck up even more in his hand, fisting his cock faster and faster. His glossy, plump lips part to let out lascivious moans and whiny pants. His thighs started to shake a bit as he was nearing his peak. 
“Oh Toru, you’re doing so good, fuck-I wanna eat you up right now. Come on, honey, can you cum for me? Let me see how good you look when you cum.” 
With one last whine, Satoru finishes all over his hand, rope of cum spilling out on his briefs and even staining the floor below. You would need to clean that up later but you didn’t care at the moment, more occupied by the immense need to fit Satoru’s cock down your throat so you could hear those whines again. 
“Thank you for the lesson, Gojo-Sensei. Can I reward you for being such a good teacher now?” 
Suguru: 
You were too nervous to ask him outright, but he noticed you were always staring at his crotch when he sat on the couch. He snaps his fingers, pulling you out of your haze. “Hello? Dear? You alright there?” Suguru’s baritone voice rings out to you, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he watches your eyes flicker from his pants to his face. “Huh? Oh, um yeah, I’m fine.” Suguru hums in return; his dark eyes boring straight into your soul and pussy. He curls a finger in, motioning for you to come stand in front of him. 
Your body moves first before your mind can even think; you're already used to following Suguru’s commands obediently and swiftly. As you stand in front of him, he grabs your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together. “Sweetheart, remember? I told you, you don’t have to be shy around me. Tell me what’s on your mind.” You opened your mouth to reply. Suguru tacked on one more thing before you could. “And if you try to tell me that it was ‘Nothing’, remember also that I have ways of making you talk, love.” He threatened with a light feathery tone, you squirmed a bit, remembering the last time you didn’t listen to Suguru. You couldn’t walk right for a week after.  
It took a few squeezes of your hands for you to voice out your request. “I want to watch you masturbate in front of me, Suguru.” Your confession made your ears burn and you were quick to pull back both physically and verbally. “Only if you’re ok with it, I-” As you tried to pull your hands away and step back, Suguru’s entrapped you in his arms, pulling you onto his lap, his lips directly next to your ear as he chuckled deeply. “Was that all, my love? Such an easy request, no need to feel bad about it.” You let out a little yelp as Suguru bit on your earlobe, licking at the small wound after. 
The sensation was already making you wet, heat pulsing at your core, barely catching Suguru’s next commands for you.”Kneel down in front of me, love.” He spreads his thighs apart, so you have ample room down there. You get down from Suguru’s thigh, kneeling down as he pats your heads, weaving his fingers through your locks. “Good girl~, rest your cheek on my thigh and enjoy the show, alright~?” You squish your cheeks against Suguru’s sturdy thigh, eyes on his delicate hands, as he makes quick work of unzipping his pants and shimmering them down just enough for his boxers to go down too. 
 You rub your thighs together as his cock springs out, half-hard, curving slightly upwards. Your face was so close to it, you could easily see all the veins and small twitches it made. Suguru watches as you bring your own hand down, slipping it under your shorts, as loose moans escape your lips. The puffs of air hitting on his cock deliciously. An idea popped into Suguru's head as he watched on. Two fingers gently tapping your cheek to get your attention, “Dearest, could you do something for me?” 
“Hmm?” Your mind was already falling into that hazy mode whenever Suguru started to order you around, using that soft commanding lithe in his voice that lulled you into a different world. His fingers trace your bottom lips, which you open easily, letting the digit invade your mouth. Your tongue swirling around Suguru’s fingers, coating them in saliva, your own fingers still playing with your pussy under your shorts. “Good~ Now, I want you to get your hand all nice and wet down there for me, alright? Play with yourself, imagine it’s my hand if you have to, dear.” 
 You groan as he pushes his fingers down on your tongue, rolling it over the wet muscle as you keep on plunging your own inside of yourself, diligently following Suguru’s command. Your thighs tremble, a high-pitched whine coming from your throat as your stomach starts to coil. “Stop.” Your hand follows his command instantly, even though your body laments the loss of pleasure. He takes out his fingers from your mouth and motions for you to bring your hand up. 
“Don’t whine too much, dear. Use your hand to coat my cock in your juices; make sure to cover everything~” His obsidian eyes peer down at you as you work, grabbing the base of his cock, smearing your arousal all over it, and slowly going upwards. Feeling Suguru’s length comes to full hardness in your hand. You did a few go around, Suguru stopping you the third time. Once his cock was wet and sticky, he praised you for doing a good job. 
 You folded your hands back on your lap, shifting your head on his thigh to get a good angle as he began to stroke his cock leisurely. Sighing out quietly, letting his hand go and his cock fall downwards a bit, every few strokes. Changing up the speed as he went, sometimes going so fast, the wet noises squelched every time his fist went all the way down to his balls. Or so agonizingly slow that low groans get ripped from his pretty lips. He was torturing himself just a little, since he loves observing your cute reactions to seeing him do so. Suguru enjoyed having your 100% full and undivided attention. 
 Some drool seeped out from the side of your mouth as you watched on, Suguru chuckled quietly at the sight. At you being so pliant and submissive, all for him. He taps you on the cheek to get your attention once more, “Sit up and face me, my dear.” You pulled away from his thigh, the bit of drool staining his pants a bit as you left. You sat back on your knees and faced his cock; “Eyes closed, I don’t want you to get injured-hahh..” He quickened his pace, the pleasure from seeing you so cutely waiting for his cum to be splattered on you, made it that much easier for Suguru to reach his peak.  He angles his cock right towards you as he releases, rope of cum spilling on your face hotly, you loll out your tongue as Suguru slaps his cock twice on it, letting the tip rub on your tongue for a little as the last spurts of cum gets out. A hefty moan leaves Suguru’s mouth as he does this, hasty and earnest praises fall as well. “Good…good girl~ You did so well for me, does my cum taste good, hmm? Hahh-fuck Mm we should do this more often. But now, it’s your turn, dear. Get up on the couch and let me have a taste of you…”
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Bouquet of (lego)Wildflowers(Loser!Yan!Konig x fem!Reader)
After you fell into somewhat of a routine in your captivity, Konig decided to bring you something nice to sweeten the pill. One time when he didn't got it right, and the second time where he got everything just where he wanted.
Details count: 3356 AO3 TW and Tags: Dub-con/Non-con, age gap, size difference, kidnapping, awkward colonel Konig, nerd Konig, hurt/comfort, Konig's POV(mostly), awkward German, yandere Konig, dry humping.
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Courting a woman is hard and meticulous process. 
First, you have to acquire a woman – preferably from a space that she goes to often, so you can immediately dissect whether she is right for you or not. Don’t go for a party girl if you can barely move in a dance and your liver isn’t the one of college athletes. Don’t go for a bookworm if you want your future wife(and this is also an important step, don’t be mistaken) to be able to put you in your place and then drink half a bottle of vodka. After you decide that the woman is, for sure, your type and you would be able to live with her for the foreseeable future, you need to step in for courting. And if you’re the type to zoom out during a conversation and stare at her hair(at least not her breasts, you’re already doing so good, you can have a cookie and a few war crimes for free), then your chances to court her properly are already slim. You’d be lucky if she wouldn’t call security to escort you out of the fine establishment you met her in. Even acquiring a name would be hopeless in this situation. 
So, what are the next steps in getting a woman if you’re a 6’10 Austrian mercenary(a colonel at that) with almost 0 social skills besides yelling at recruits and taunting his enemies, and your callsign is also literally König, to make matters worse? You kidnap a woman, of course. 
The problem is – König has done all of that. You and he obviously have the same interests, you are definitely his type, and there is no barriers between the two of you – you are literally sitting in his basement. Yet, he can’t quite seem to capture your heart. Your body didn’t stand an issue – if he wanted to, he’d fuck you every night and turn you into his personal fucktoy, all adorable and helpless…but he doesn’t want this. Not right now. Well, he probably does want to fuck you in every possible position, but he can wait. Can try to wait, at least. God, you deserve all the waiting. 
He tried to bring you food. Nice food, fancy food. Sweets. 
*** — What is this? You sit on the small mat in the basement – König promised he’d bring you a proper bed, but then he started to think that you’d get scared about staying in the basement for so long instead of wanting to get out and sleep in a nice bedroom, so he eventually decided to just let you sleep on a mat. Your knees are curled to your chest and you look like the prettiest thing out there. He doesn’t want to scare you, but it takes everything in him to not just scoop you in his arms like an unruly cat. He doesn’t want to be creepy, but, he is already keeping a captive younger woman in the basement of his house. It’s hard not to be creepy in a situation like this, right? He doesn’t want to, but…a lot of things are out of control right now. Well, not you – you’re in his control. Under it, so to say. Unfortunately, not under his body – not yet, at least, as much as he’d love to. König is trying to be patient, but then you tilt your head to the side and… She is so adorable, oh god, I can’t, Himmell, she is the prettiest, she is…He’d punch himself in the crotch just to get rid of the erection that is throbbing in his pants and threatening to erupt – but between staring at a cute girl tilting her head like a little bird, and punching himself in the balls König, surprisingly, would choose staring at a cute girl and suffering through his arousal. Silently. Really shocking decisions. 
— It’s a snack. For you. 
Yes, maybe, he went a little bit overboard. But he was just finishing shopping for his newest favorite thing in the world(you) with all the things that a girl living with you might need – pads, tampons, three extra sets of everything because he got too flustered to ask the assistants for advice, so he just grabbed everything that looked like it could stop bullet wound bleeding, and went for it. Also some clothes – he loved to see you naked, but a cute girl should wear cute clothes and, well, he kinda failed with getting you these ones – and pillows. Women love pillows, as he got from the social media some of his younger colleagues forced him to install. 
Yes, maybe, König went a bit overboard for a kidnapper – but honestly, would you prefer him to just fuck you over and over? At least he is buying you deserts, at least he has enough to cover your needs, at least he is trying. You definitely should kiss him for this. It would totally be a normal behavior, of course, and obviously. — For me? 
König thinks – you’re just as adorable as you are dumb. He wouldn’t have you any other way. 
— For you. 
— A snack? 
It was exactly 4 boxes filled with cupcakes, little hand-made chocolate candies, and some weird, hipster-styled cookies without flour, sugar, and happiness – but he doesn’t know your favorite type of desert because, apparently, kidnapped girlfriends don’t come with a hand guide on how to feed them, and you already refused almost half of your meals until you finally succumbed to reality and started eating again. He wants you to be happy – not too happy that you’d start questioning him as your boyfriend, but at least happy enough to not be depressed that he forced you into the life of solitude. Which you, judging by the numbers on your bank account(he went through your phone, of course, saved every picture that could be used to jerk off and then smashed the sim cart so you couldn’t be found), could really prefer. He was doing you a service, really. At least now you can help him build Legos instead of just selling those. 
— Stop this. 
— Stop what? You tilt your head to the side, again, like an adorable bird that flew into the window of his car and got crushed because birds are, in fact, stupid and can’t see the glass. You don’t look too smart either – not with your escape attempts that consist of pleading with him to let you go, the action that only got his pants tighter and didn’t fill him with the desire to let you go. — You just repeating my words. You should eat. 
You stare at the various deserts in front of you, looking like you don’t believe in his endless kindness and generosity. He understands you – he wouldn’t believe it either. He just wants for you to stop looking like a sad kitten that got splashed with water because you look to damn adorable like this. Too fucking precious. A man can’t even live with a captive girlfriend nowadays, she just has to be the most beautiful thing on earth and he is going to act like a peasant who shouldn’t even bother to bask in her presence. God, he is awful. And perverted. And a damn dog who, for sure, doesn’t deserve you. 
— I don’t really want to…
— I brought you sweets. You don’t want it, Schatzen? You move your head from side to side, indicating that, well, you’re a spoiled little brat who has to get her butt spanked because why in hell would you be against him bringing you something nice? Women love deserts, right? Right?! — I…I appreciate it. But you, um…forgot to bring me normal food for the second day already, so…
Oh. 
That’s right. 
Scheisse. 
*** Bringing you deserts didn’t work out – he did bring you normal food after this, obviously, he is a kidnapper, not a monster, but the problem with your loyalty and your love for him was still standing hard, just like his cock. Every time you begged him to finally give up and let you go, he’d spend an hour in his bedroom, jerking off to the memories of your pleading face. Every time you behaved like a brat, demanding him to let you go, he would spend two hours. It’s a vicious cycle that you can’t escape. Don’t want to, probably. 
Bringing you fancy food didn’t work out – turns out, captive girlfriend needs to eat normal food too, just like all other humans, and so he went straight to the plan C. Plan L. Plan L would, hopefully, involve you getting a Plan B straight after. 
— What is this? 
He has the wildest feeling that he already lived through this situation. König thinks – hey, that’s weird, for some reason, you are behaving just like you did a week ago. So wild, that the girl you’re keeping in the basement isn’t prone to changing her behavior over short periods of time, right? He is petting your head again, making you squirm in his hold because of course you’re scared and nervous and just a bit dummy overall because hey, he wouldn’t hurt you, he promises! 
With every passing second, he felt more and more stupid. What a dumb fucking idea, honestly – he went to the shop(online one, of course, can’t be risky with falling in love with another cute cashier) and brought you…stuff. Cool stuff, he thought. Probably not cool enough for a girl like you thought – for a girl that always looked like she is too good for this shit, for his shit, the of girl that probably wouldn’t bully him in highschool, but would come dangerously close to the point of indifference to someone like him. 
With every passing second and your confused glare, he felt like just turning away and forgetting about everything that just happened. He already forgot to feed you on the previous week for a few days – he did apologize and he did bring you as much pizza and snacks and real salads (aka normal food that your empty stomach craved). He didn’t even force you to sit on his lap at that time! He is forcing you to do it now, trying to ease you into the feeling of his strong body around you. 
König strands you on his lap like you’re an unruly cat – he smiles when you try to get out and only whine in his hold. He is strong, stronger than you should have anticipated – he knows he is big, but a lot of people tend to underestimate their opponents. Especially when said people don’t have a lot of experience in battle – König knows that he can defeat you with just one hand. He also knows that you don’t know this. Good for him, he supposes. You feel his erection throbbing in his pants, every time you jerk to try and get out of his hold, he only gets harder. You’re prone to notice that eventually, even that dumb little head of yours should be filled with something – but it’s almost like you’re teasing him, dragging your butt back and forth, over and over, like there is nothing else for you to do. He probably can get off just from the feeling of your flesh over his – he loves every second of it, knowing just how much you hate being here. You will learn, eventually. He is hugging you firmly, a hand over your waist – while the other is holding the box he brought to you. One of many boxes, actually – but he thought that maybe, since you act so sheepish around him, you could be the type of girl that only respects certain lego sets. So, he went out of his way(actually, not, since everything was delivered to his doorstep in like two days) to order you all possible lego flowers. You should like it. You have to like it. 
— It’s a flower. 
— A…lego flower? 
He gently pushes his head down, kissing you carefully. Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck like an overgrown cat – you swear you can hear him purr and it only makes you whimper more and more. It’s impossible, with him – you don’t want him next to you and yet, the only thing you can do is bite down on your sobs and carefully open one of the boxes. It’s pretty, really – and working at Lego store for so long, you know exactly how expensive this shit is. 
You don’t want anything to do with it. 
— I thought a normal bouquet would be too boring. 
You’d love for him to serve you a bouquet of flowers with a tiny bit of keys from the basement as a special sprinkle. Knowing him, however, you will just get his dick with a bit of assault on top of it. It’s a miracle he didn’t try to shove his dick inside of you on day one. 
You feel his cock throbbing against your naked ass. 
Well, all miracles can’t last forever. A shame – you’d convert to christianity if a god would be arsed to protect you from the devil’s dick. 
— I…I would have liked flowers. 
You don’t even know if you’re lying or no. Flowers would be nice – anything to distract you from the psycho who has locked you up in his basement. Anything to distract you from the basement itself. A bit of color would make you feel less like a sad beige baby and more like a sad beige adult. Or a regular office worker. 
— Okay. I will…will bring you flowers next time. 
You tilt your head to the side, obviously not quite believing him. Honestly, König is quite frustrated with your attitude. While yes, he did forget to feed you quite a few times, was also caught jerking off to your sleeping form on more than one occasion, and also forced you to listen to his rants about Austrian gun laws(this is how you found out you were in Austria, somewhere not far from the border), he was still a good owner. He brings you things, he brings you clothes – his ones, but you must admit that you look freaking adorable in his shirts. You should be a bit more grateful than this. 
You move your butt again, your precious pussy just mere centimeters away from his cock – he swears to god you are heated from the interaction, and your puffy lower lips are leaking something on the rough material of his pants. You don’t want to arouse him, it’s only obvious, but you’re still moving your soft hips around and he is still a man who can get just listening to your voice talking about the total and whether he has a card or not. He is a pervert and you’re weak enough to not be able to escape from his lap. Experimentally, he rocked his hips back and forth, his cock pressing on your cheeks once again. Oh, he quite liked that. He and his dick both, that is. You wouldn’t be too bothered if he weren’t entering you, right? He can save the meetup for later. — Play with the set for now, ja? You fulp, your fingers shaking as you slowly open the box. It’s wildflowers – cute, really. You like it, if he isn’t mistaking the dull gleam in your eyes for something else. maybe, you’re thinking you can attack him with some of the sets – maybe, you’re planning to toss them across the room and turn the whole basement into a minefield. He wouldn’t lie, stepping on lego is still somehow worse than getting shot – but you shouldn’t know this. You’re a pretty, domesticated civilian, and he wants to keep you with him for as long as possible. You read the instruction carefully as he proceed to hammer his cock into the softness of your body, your cunt only protected by his jeans. It’s painful, to have his cockhead slam against the zip every time he tried to hammer it into your pussy – but there is a lesson in masochism around here, somewhere, and König never said he wasn’t affected by a mix of school bullying and mommy issues. There is something freeing in pain, with every pathetic whimper he lets go of – with every sound that only a loser like him would make. 
He’d thought you were above it, above everything – but every time he rocks his hips, he can feel you getting wetter, the uneven tent in his crotch slamming against your clit. You want to release just as much as he does – even if you’re trying to cover it by building the set he bought for you. König thinks – if he could do this with you each time, he would buy the whole fucking shop, even the Minecraft ones. König wonders what would it take for you to suck his cock while he is finishing building the other sets he bought. 
— D…do you know that… He takes his time to breathe, each word ending with a shallow breath and a low whistle as he proceeds to use your hips for his pleasure – as he finally unzips his pants and his cock almost sprawling free, leaking precum on his boxers. You whimper when you feel the heat much closer to your naked pussy, but König simply bites your neck again, whispering the words into the mark blossoming on your soft skin. 
— First products from Lego were actually wo…Scheiise, you’re so fucking hot – wooden toys. You don’t understand how, but your pussy is getting wetter when you hear that eagerness in his voice. The desire to share this fact with you – this guy might be a crazy kidnapper, but you feel so much of a cute loser energy from him, you almost don’t want to stab him with a flower you’re making. You probably won’t. It’s best to keep him sated and calm, so he won’t force anything too much on you. 
You ignore the throbbing in your pussy that intensifies each time he presses on your clit. 
— Really? 
— They didn’t got into making plastic cubes until after World War Two. They first made trucks that could be assembled and taken by pieces, but then… You hate yourself for it, but you’re actually listening to him. He has a way with words that makes everything more interesting, and there is nothing better to do – you concentrate on the sound of his voice so you won’t have to listen to the wet sounds of your pussy squelching on his crotch. 
— They started to make…normal sets? 
You know this – you remember the story, really, all workers at Lego had to know the history in case some adorable child would ask them. It’s almost cute, how König deliberately mansplains everything to you – you can fall into a steady rhythm of listening to his voice, while failing to notice that you started to move your butt on your own. Spreading your wetness across his boxers, feeling like a slut who is getting off her kidnapper touching her…seriously, this is so fucked up. You should be ashamed of yourself, but you just now and push your head back, against his chest. He would probably let you go for a while after this. He is always embarrassed after jerking off at your body. 
— Ja. They even copyrighted the sound of blocks clicking together. You knew this was a thing, Schatzen? That everything clicks together with a certain detail? 
— Yeah. They, um…taught us this in the first week. 
— Oh. 
He goes quiet for a few minutes, only the sounds of his ragged breath and the squeals of your pussy remaining in the room. You whimper when he drags you a bit harsher when he bites you in the shoulder with a low groan. You feel the added wetness on your pussy lips and you recognize that he came – in his boxers, you’d say like a loser, but, then again, you came too. He drags you to the mattress after, hugging you softly. Hand against your stomach again, the combined wetness of you and him made your face scrunch in discomfort.
You’re certainly a pair of losers. Match made in heaven. 
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reverieblondie · 4 months
Text
Be Sweet to Me
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs
Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.
A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!
Word count: 3,447
Part 2
“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.” 
Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.
“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation. 
Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool. 
Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara. 
He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.” 
One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.  
Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two… 
Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.  
Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success! 
Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps. 
Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!
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Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character. 
Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to. 
The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.
First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.
Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.  
Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards 
For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…
The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made. 
Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again. 
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Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria. 
“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…
Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal. 
Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question. 
“I’m sorry what?” 
Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?” 
“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?” 
Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”
Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.” 
“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.
“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”
“And probably insulting you in some way,” 
“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…
“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.
“Oh, and he is always being rude!” 
“God, how can you work with that monster!” 
With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process. 
“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…” 
With that, your lunch break was over. 
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“Spider-Man!” 
“You saved us!” 
“He’s a hero!”
“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”
“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”
“I thought she punched him?” 
Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over. 
How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…
Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap, 
“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”  
The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on. 
Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…
Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was. 
“Jerk!” 
“Boo!” 
“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job. 
Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…
Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.
Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him. 
Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway. 
 “How can you work with that monster!”
Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…
Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,
“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”
“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others. 
Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…
Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed. 
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It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?
 Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.
Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.
Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible. 
“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time. 
“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…
Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that” 
Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.” 
Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.
“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you” 
With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.  
“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier? 
The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.” 
Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly. 
Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it. 
Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again. 
“I want us to be friends, simple” 
Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him. 
“You got this Miguel, good luck.” 
458 notes · View notes
Note
aftercare with ethan. reader taking care of her sweet boy and hes just rlly clingy and lowk cries bc of it ):
you laid down on top of ethan’s chest, utterly exhausted and barely finding it in you to move. you turned your head towards him, pressing light kisses against his neck and face, causing him to shiver slightly beneath you.
“you okay baby? i didn’t go too hard on you, did i?” you asked, your voice gentle as you lifted yourself up to face him properly.
“baby…?” you asked softly, after he didn’t respond.
gently taking his face in your hands, you giggled to yourself when you saw how out of it he was. your boyfriend practically had stars in his eyes, a kind of faraway gleam that you found adorable. but it was his lack of response that worried you slightly.
you leaned down, kissing his temple and running your fingers through his unruly curls. he sighed softly and you smiled to yourself.
“everything alright, darling?” you asked, carefully turning his head to face you.
“mhm,” he mumbled softly, nuzzling his face into your hand.
smiling, you leaned down and kissed him, before you pulled away and stood up from the bed, causing ethan to whine and reach out for you.
“come back. please don’t leave me,” his voice shook as he spoke, almost as if he was afraid that you were going to leave him for good.
“i’ll be right back, darling. i promise, you won’t even notice that i was gone,” you said, before turning back and heading out of the room.
a few moments later, you returned wearing one of his shirts with a warm cloth in your hand. sitting down next to ethan, you carefully started to clean the mixture of his cum and your slick off of him. he hissed slightly from the sensitivity as you dragged the cloth over his skin.
“w-what are you doing?” he asked, a bit confused by your actions.
you titled your head in confusion. “what do you mean, baby? ‘m just taking care of you.”
his eyes softened slightly at your words. he wasn’t used to people caring about him at all, and yet hear you were, treating him like he was the most precious thing in the world. and to you, he was.
you placed the cloth aside, and stood up one more time to get ethan some clean pajamas. he sat up, resting back against the pillows, and reached out for the clothes you brought him. but you simply nudged his hands out of the way and put the clothes on him yourself.
he was so confused, still not entirely understanding why you were doing all this for him. but the way you were looking at him, like there was nobody else in the world that mattered to you, the way it made him feel was indescribable. so many feelings swirled inside of him, the presence of them all becoming a bit overwhelming.
and when you laid down in the bed and pulled ethan into your arms, he couldn’t take it anymore. holding you tightly, he began to cry. startled by this, you tilted his head up towards you and gently wiped his tears away.
“baby? what’s wrong?” you asked, worried that you had somehow done something to upset him.
ethan shook his head. “nothing. i- i’m just not used to all this, i guess. no one’s really cared about me before. especially not in the way that you do. i’m not really sure how to deal with it. with the fact that someone actually loves me. that you actually love me.”
you frowned slightly and pulled him closer, kissing his forehead.
“well get used to it darling. cause i’m never gonna stop loving you. ever.”
tags: @nowitsmissing @hyeyulove
459 notes · View notes
belxveds · 1 year
Text
[wisdom has left the chat]
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pairing: peter parker x f!reader
summary: you get your wisdom teeth removed...who the fuck gave you your phone? (peter did.) where you're extremely high on anesthesia and pain meds, flash can't get a hint, and peter is flushed bright red at your lack of filter on the group chat.
tags: humour. fluff. crack fic. texting. sex mention.
a/n:
requests are open!
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
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"Am I being kidnapped?", you whisper out breathily as you writhed under the fastened seatbelt that Peter had done up a couple moments earlier, twisting around clumsily as you tried to press down on the buckle and free yourself from the restraint.
Peter who had just placed away the prescription note and after-surgery procedure instructions in the backseat sighed before quickly getting a grip on your wrist, holding it in place so that it wouldn’t do more damage.
Making eye contact with you and holding your gaze for a few seconds to make sure that you wouldn’t try to get away for the 4th time that evening, he dragged your hand over onto your lap and let it drop softly against your legging clad thighs before responding, “No babe, I’m taking you home.”
You crossed your arms, or at least tried to- only whacking Peter’s nose twice before pouting through the window like a petulant child, spit and blood pooling up underneath your chin as the gauze between your teeth started to fall out. Grumbling under your breath, you garbled out, “Don’t call me babe.”
Peter let out a giggle as he reached for a napkin, holding you by your jaw with extreme caution and turning you towards him so that he could clean up the saliva gathered there, “Why can’t I call you babe, babe?”
Your pout deepened at the outright disrespect as you you gently patted Peter’s knee, as if trying to let him down easy, “Only my boyfriend can call me babe. He’s Spider-Man, you know?” The second part tilted up at the end into a proud and fond voice, your eyes turning soft before realizing where you were and snapping your hand back into yourself.
“Is that right?”, Peter asked amused, finally pulling out of the parking lot of the dentistry and towards the road.
“Yup.”, you exclaimed, popping the p and dancing your fingers across the dash in front of you as you felt the small vibrations tingle up your palm, smiling wide when a small brr emitted from your nails dragging along the textured pattern set around the vent of the AC.
A few more seconds passed of you randomly grazing your fingers along different parts of the interior of Tony’s car, the different materials stimulating your touch before you turned your head completely around and faced your body and attention towards him. Your gaze flickering across a strong jawline and soft set cheekbones, stopping as you paused at his hair. “You have curls.”
Peter glanced at you quickly before returning his focus to the road, sparing a look at himself in the mirror as he ran a hand through the unruly mess, “I do.”
You sighed wistfully as you rested your head against the cushioning of your seat, “Peter has curls.”
Peter let out a laugh, “Y/N, I’m Peter.”
You gave him the most incredulous look before falling into a fit of hiccupped laughter, your palms spaying on your flushed cheeks as you looked back up at him again as if he had just the funniest thing you’d ever heard, “Oh! Don’t be silly, Peter’s at home!”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t think he’d ever heard you use the word “silly” unironically in his entire 3 years of dating you. Anyway. That wasn’t the point. Peter only hesitated for a second before continuing, if the roles were reversed, he knew that you’d do the exact same thing, “Hmm, right. How…silly…of me. So ba-Y/N, tell me about Peter.”
You sighed wistfully, twirling your hair as if you were in a teen rom-com before starting, "He's so pretty and oh my god, you should see his abs. You could wash your clothes on them, I'm telling you. Washboard. And he's so smart and kind and fuck...the way he fucks-"
Peter choked a little, wide-eyed, sneaking a quick glance at you as he swerved into the parking lot of the pharmacy before interrupting, cheeks red as he said, "I-uhh-listen, I've got to go in and grab some medicine for you so I'm going to need you to be very responsible, ok? Can you do that?"
You scoffed, offended, "I am the most super very much responsible person in this car, sir, and for your information, I'll have you know, that I am very responsible."
Peter let out a small giggle at your antics before nodding, slowly bringing out your phone from his pocket before begrudgingly handing it over, watching you squeal like a child as you gripped it to your chest, "Call me if you need anything and please, Y/N, for the love of god, don't post anything or text anyone."
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Y/N Stark's FanClub 🤩 10 members . Private Chat
11:52 am . May 7th
Y/N: HLEP SOS RED Jason: ... Betty: Y/N WHAT HAPPENED?? Y/N: I'ev been kidnpaped 😧 Cindy: And the kidnapper didn't take your phone? Kind of a stupid kidnapper if you ask me Betty: CINDY- OMG Sally: HUH 😧 Y/N: He's hot tho...so it's fine ig BUT STILL >:( how dare he Flash: Idk what you're talking about hun, I didn't kidnap you Y/N: Shut your ulgy ass up Jason: BAHAHAHBDAJBDJKSFBK Sally: pFFTTT- Betty: Is no one else concerned? :,) MJ: Peter took her to get her wisdom teeth removed, she's fine. Cindy: high y/n 😧 Charles: Why tf are there so many 😧😧😧 Charles: Y/N IS KIDNAPPED?? OUR QUEEN- Charles: oh :) nm
Jason: nonono cindy it's more like
Jason: high y/n 😈
Y/N: yes jason hehe 😈
Ned: @peterparker @peterparker @peterparker
Ned: bro come collect your girlfriend
Y/N: hey! pter doesn't own me >:( i'm an indepnedant woman
Sally: yeah ned wtf
Sally: sexist
Cindy: that's so digusting
Betty: you think women belong to men 🤨
Ned: skfjnskjfednsjkefnskefns 😭😭😭 ?!?!?!?!
༶ Y/N STARK has started a group call for Y/N Stark's FanClub 🤩 ༶
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Blinking a bit deliriously as familiar faces of your friends popped up on your screen, you giggled in glee at their appearance as you struggled to smile through your puffy cheeks and bloody cotton pads.
Propping your phone up on the dashboard with some struggle as you folded back, your eyes widened over the chaos of questions erupting from the speakers as you caught a glance of your kidnapper returning.
Based on his stern glare as he checked his phone and then back up at you, you panickedly gargled, "Guys! Oh no oh no oh no- he's coming back!"
Sally, still in her pajamas yet more alert than half the rest of the group call attendees, pitched in, "Hide? I-"
You stared at her in confusion as you looked around at the limited hiding spaces big enough to fit your uncoordinated body in the car.
"What?", Jason snorted, "No- Y/N, Y/N, hear me out...seduce him."
Your face of disgust made him burst out into laughter as Betty played along, no longer concerned, "Tell him your dad's Iron Man!!"
Jason who'd finally caught his breath wheezed, "I still think my idea is the best-"
You'd just let out a noise of distress at the thought of flirting with someone other than your boyfriend when the door to the driver's seat swung open.
Wincing as the handsome man sat down, you made panicked side-eyes at the screen as you murmured out a small, "Hello, not-my-boyfriend Peter."
Watching him roll his eyes, he peeked his head into the view of your camera as he gave a small wave at your friends. All them chorusing their greetings as he turned and huffed at you, "What was the one thing I said not to do when I left you with your phone?"
"Well...technically it was two things-", your murmured as you withered in your seat, bringing your palms to your face as you heard laughter echo from the screen.
"I don't think you guys see the opportunity in front of us right now", Flash grinned, "This is basically Y/N on truth serum."
The mischievous glance Flash gave you made Peter sigh in defeat as he pulled out of the parking lot, knowing a lost battle when he saw one. There was no going to make you cut the call now as you squealed forward, taking the phone into your hands and giggling, "Like truth or dare!"
"Ok Y/N...I'll ask first...", Flash began, Peter's forearms going up in goosebumps as he heard noises of wariness erupt from the screen. This was going to be interesting.
"Are you actually in love with Peter?"
The smirk MJ gave at your bewildered expression made Peter let out a snort of laughter, Flash's endless pursuit to get a chance with his girlfriend nothing less than amusing.
You sighed wistfully, smiling like a disney princess as you looked off out the window, "He's like a shot of espresso, like...being bathed in sunlight. He's incredibly energetic and enthusiastic, and has this sense of… play and fun when you're alone with him, which was incredibly exciting."
You faced the phone again, "He's so- smart and sweet and caring. Like a prince. Extremely charming, especially when he's nervous. And there's thing he does when he's trying to pretend he's annoyed at me as he fights off a smile like- like he just scrunches his nose and it's so...he's so cute, I just want to pinch his cheeks and suck his dick, you know?"
You leaned in close to the camera ignoring the embarrassment of Flash's face and the giggles from everyone else as you whispered, as if indulging them in on a secret, "He's also amazing in bed. Like there's this thing he did with his tongue last night and-
Peter's hand had never moved faster as it slapped across your mouth to keep you shut, his ears burning red as he let out a cough, "Aaand that will be the end of that, say bye to them, we're almost at the compound."
The hoots and hollers from your phone made him groan, knowing he'd never hear the end of it as Charles brokenly said in between tears of laughter, "S-simp."
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༶•┈┈୨POST OFFICE୧┈┈•༶
ꕥ SEND LETTER
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ MAILBOX ༶
༶•┈┈୨PETER PARKER'S MAILBOX୧┈┈•༶
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lavender-devotion · 16 hours
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Gambling With Souls (Alastor x GN!Reader)
Summary: You made a deal with Husk a long time ago, and ended up paying a lot more than you bargained for. Now you worked in one of his casinos, waiting on him and the people he gambled with hand and foot. One day Husk is challenged to a game by another Overlord, one with red eyes and a sharp ever-present smile…and, despite everything, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. What happens when the two of them start gambling with souls…and yours is thrown into the betting pool? Disclaimer: Husk is going to act pretty different than he does in the show and, yes, he's not going to be very nice to you---this is not me demonizing him. He's an Overlord, he's gonna act like one.
Tags: Alastor x GN!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), I only know Texas Hold ‘Em so that’s what we’re going with, One-sided Husk x GN!Reader (maybe, idk, it's up to your interpretation) TW: Abuse, Alcohol, Groping Word Count: 3.3k Read it on Ao3 <3
The moment you'd agreed to gamble with Husk, your life had ended.
You were a strong demon, not an Overlord---considering you hadn't owned any souls---but still not someone to mess with. Still, it was an incredibly stupid idea to gamble with an Overlord like him, especially since he was known for his proficiency in such things. You didn't remember what exactly had possessed you to think you could possibly win, but it didn't really matter now, did it?
He'd challenged you, and you had accepted.
You lost.
And now your soul was his to do with as he pleased.
Of all the demons who owned souls, Husk was considered by far the worst. He was a gambler and a drunk. He won hands, yes, but he also lost them---and it wasn't exactly uncommon for him to bet the souls he owned in lieu of money. Especially against other Overlords.
You could be working for him in one of his casinos as a dealer and in the span of one hand you were suddenly being dragged to the Vee district and forced to work as a porn star for Valentino, subject to his abuse and the abuse of your "co-stars," only to see your pain broadcasted across Hell to get people off.
Or to the Carmine district to work in a factory, building weapons that would probably kill you one day and dealing with the effects of the toxic gas and physical labor, slowly decaying over time.
Or to the district owned by Zestial...no one knew what happened to the souls he owned, and you sure as hell didn't want to find out.
Oddly enough, though, Husk seemed to take a liking to you. He always had you work at his personal gambling table---serving drinks, food, or rigging the game in his favor when he was in particularly deep shit and didn't want to lose.
And he never bet your soul.
Ever.
Sometimes he would bet you doing certain...activities, sometimes he would bet your time, sometimes he would bet a kiss, but never your soul.
Sometimes you were grateful for it, for the security it brought and the routine---you were rarely ever caught off guard when it came to Husk. Grateful for the knowledge that, hey, at least you would never be traded off to someone worse.
Other times, however, you hated it. Hated that he treated you like his prized show pony, hated that he was willing to pass you around but never loosen the chain on your neck, hated the fact that there was no escape...
...at least, there was no escape, until Husk gambled with him.
----------
It was never a good thing when Husk called you over to his table, so when one of the girls you worked with waved you down and directed you over to him---right before the end of your shift, I might add---you were...less than thrilled, let's say.
It had already been a hard enough day. It was like every jackass in Hell had decided to all get assigned to your tables at once---being loud and unruly, smacking your ass, spilling drinks, causing trouble---and, of course, none of your coworkers were any help. Your feet were killing you from all of the moving around, a customer had spilled a drink on you so now your uniform was more uncomfortable than usual, and you could definitely feel a migraine coming on.
The last thing you wanted to do was stay however many hours past your scheduled time just to plaster on a fake smile and be Husk's plaything. All you wanted was to go home and go to sleep, but the universe apparently hated you.
Fuck your life.
As you approached Husk's table, your attention was immediately drawn to the man sitting across from him. He was noticeably taller than Husk, even without the antlers atop his head---joined by a pair of red and black ears that matched the rest of his hair. He was dressed in a red suit and tailcoat that seemed to be 1930's in style, and a staff in the shape of a vintage microphone rested right next to him.
What was most eye-catching about him, though, was his smile.
Husk was an irritating man, that's just what he was like. He was arrogant without the sense to hide it, too certain of his own success every time he played a game, a hefty shit talker, usually drunk, and irritable and rude when he wasn't. Half of your job was often playing nice to soothe his opponents, trying to keep him out of trouble. Like I said, he was an irritating man.
And yet, even though it was obvious that Husk was getting on this man's last nerve, his smile never faltered. It was...unsettling, to say the least. Oddly enough, though, you found your interest in the man piquing---he didn't look like the type to gamble, after all, so what was he doing here?
As soon as you made it to the table, you plastered on a smile of your own and greeted them, mentally preparing yourself so that you didn't try to throttle one or both of them.
"Hello gentleman," you said, voice falsely bright and cheerful, "will I be dealing for you today or grabbing some drinks?"
Husk turned to you, grinning cockily and...oddly not drunk. Not sober, of course, but clearly more sober than you'd ever seen him before.
"Dealin' for us today, sweetheart," he said, smooth and low---almost flirty. You mentally shuddered.
Despite your distaste, you nodded and made your way to the middle of the table, going ahead and opening a fresh deck of cards before shuffling them---waiting for Husk to tell you which game they were going to play, and therefore what you'd be dealing out.
He turned to his opponent, "now, what game 're we playin'?"
"Your choice," the man replied, his voice overlaid by sharp radio static.
Husk laughed, and part of you wondered if this stranger had a death wish. Didn't he know who Husk was? Didn't he know what a terrible idea it was to give him, not only the advantage of playing in one of his casinos and choosing the dealer, but also the advantage of choosing the game?
What was he playing at?
Never one to pass up an opportunity to gain the upper hand, Husk---grinning---told you the game he wanted to play, and you began dealing out the cards. Quickly, the stranger recognized it.
"Ah, Texas Hold Em', hm?" He hummed, static crackling slightly in an almost-laugh, "a classic! What made you choose such a game?"
"I just figured a basic game like this would be easy enough for you to keep up with," Husk replied, the little insult sliding smoothly off his tongue. The stranger's eyes narrowed and you cringed, mentally praying to whatever god would listen that he wouldn't take his anger at Husk out on you, as was all too common among the characters he gambled with. Thankfully, his eyes never left Husk and he made no move to harm you as you set up the game, now divvying up the chips between them.
Just before you were about to start the game, however, Husk held up a hand to stop you---a dangerous glint in his eyes that made you shudder.
"Why don't we make this game a little more interesting," he said, and you could already guess what he was about to suggest.
The stranger's head tilted ever-so slightly, "what did you have in mind?"
"Why don't we gamble with something a little more valuable than money...something like the souls we own."
The stranger's smile widened imperceptibly, and you got the uncanny feeling that this is what he'd wanted in the first place. Not Husk's money, but the souls in his possession.
'Perhaps Husk's soul as well,' something in your mind whispered, but you brushed it off. Husk never gambled his soul either, so there's no way that would happen---even if that was what the stranger was there for.
Once the stranger voiced his agreement, Husk snapped his fingers and his chips radiated with a silver glow, each chip being branded with a mark that symbolized exactly whose soul was being bet. His soul was branded on a Black chip, the most expensive piece---ever present, even if he'd never bet it. Yours was a Red, the second most expensive.
He gestured to the stranger, signaling that it was his turn. The stranger followed suit and snapped his fingers, this time a bright green enveloping the chips in front of him---starkly contrasting to the rest of his appearance. His chips were now branded with their own marks as well. A Black chip with green details was branded with a bright red 'A,' and you could only assume that was his own soul.
After it was clear that the two were ready, you flipped the first three cards, and the game began.
----------
At first, things almost seemed normal, once the game had started.
You dealt the hands, split the chips in the betting pool, and watched as the two Overlords went back and forth with the flow of the game. Occasionally another one of Husk’s employees would come over and serve them drinks, but other than that none of it caught your attention.
Well, one thing caught your attention.
The stranger’s shadow.
It seemed to dance around with a mind of its own, never losing its smile, just like the stranger himself. The shadow sometimes messed with the chips on the stranger’s side of the board, sometimes it played with the ice in the empty glasses on the table, but most of the time it seemed almost…fascinated by you.
It messed with your hair, helped you shuffle and collect the cards, tugged playfully at the edges of your uniform, and simply stuck by your side most of the time. It was a nice change from the attention you were used to dealing with from customers, or from Husk himself.
The way people would scream at you when they were angry, the wandering hands that would grope or hit or grab, the catcalls and lustful threats, the glasses of alcohol that people would throw at you…this was nothing like any of that. You liked it, it made you feel…precious, in a way. Valued. Cared for, oddly enough.
The stranger seemed amused by the antics, occasionally raising an eyebrow at his shadow only to receive an innocent shrug in response.
Husk, on the other hand, was not so amused.
“Get control of your fuckin’ shadow,” Husk snapped at the stranger as it tugged gently on a piece of your hair, drawing a small smile from you. One that immediately disappeared as you heard Husk’s voice.
“Now now,” the stranger chastised, seeming even more amused at Husk’s irritation, “it’s only having a little fun, no need to lose your temper.”
Husk muttered something under his breath, no doubt some string of insults, but still, he dropped the subject. You tried not to pay any more attention to the shadow after that, not wanting Husk to get angry at you as well.
Husk didn’t seem to notice…but the stranger did.
“Husker, you have quite the specimen working for you here," he said, radio static curling around his voice in an almost...flirtatious(?) purr as he turned to look at you, "what's your name, my dear?"
You flushed slightly before giving him your name, asking his in return. After all, you'd prefer to stop thinking of him as "the stranger."
He repeated your name slowly, sounding out each syllable, before responding, "Alastor, it's a pleasure to meet-"
"Your turn," Husk interrupted, voice grating, and the stranger- Alastor's gaze snapped to him, lip curling even as his smile stretched.
"Of course," he replied, irritation clear in his tone, "pets have such short attention spans, wouldn't want you getting distracted from our game, now would we?"
"The only one getting distracted here is you."
Alastor only hummed in response, raising the bet as he did so.
You glanced between the two, the tension between them palpable, and you were more than a little worried that a fight might break out---but, thankfully, neither made a move towards the other. They just sat there, glaring.
You cleared your throat, trying to dispel some of the animosity, "raise or call?"
Husk pushed a stack of chips forward, "raise."
----------
This is how the game went, back and forth.
Husk winning some hands, and Alastor winning some in return---almost like a dance, a game.
You watched, enthralled, as the two continued on...and as Husk slowly, surely, lost more and more souls. Usually, when it was clear that one of the players were going to lose, they would call the game off---cut their losses and stop before things got any worse.
But, for whatever reason, Husk refused to do just that. In fact, the more hands Husk lost, the more determined he seemed to keep playing---to the point where, if you didn't know him well, you'd think he was gambling under the influence. It was...surprising, to say the least, and by the time Husk seemed to realize how deep of a hole he'd dug himself into, it was too late. His only choice was to keep playing and hope his luck turned around.
He had no reason to be worried, though, and he knew that.
All because he had you.
You see, there was a reason why Husk always had you serving his table. It was because of your power, what you could do for him during these games.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly what your power was, since it manifested differently depending on what you used it to do, but---in simple terms---it was almost like you had control over reality. A small part of it, at least. You could control things...well, under your control. Your appearance, the clothes you wore, anything you made, or---in this case---any game you dealt for.
There weren't any rules against the dealer controlling the game. Husk made certain of it. There was even a clause in the fine print of every contract people signed to play with him, one that gave you full permission to do as you pleased during the game, as long as you were the dealer.
So, sooner or later, Husk would give you the signal to turn things in his favor and you would do as you were told.
...
Well, apparently, it was sooner.
Husk gave you the signal, and you sunk into the familiar warmth of your power---subtly seizing control of the game. You knew the cards in Husk's hands and in Alastor's, as well as all the cards on the board.
Alastor would have two pair, Husk would have one.
Your fingers twitched slightly and the unflipped cards changed, giving Husk three of a kind and Alastor one pair.
Husk won that round.
Safe to say, Husk started to get "spontaneously" lucky, and get some of his souls---his power---back. Alastor, surprisingly, didn't seem at all bothered or shocked by this. If anything, he seemed completely relaxed, as if he wasn't losing hundreds of souls with every hand. It unsettled you, and it definitely seemed to unsettle Husk---even though he tried his best to hide it.
Eventually, though, just as you thought that---surely---Alastor had had enough and was about to call the game off, he said something that stopped you in your tracks.
"All in."
Your power faltered for a moment as you stared at him, eyes wide, and you lost all knowledge of what was on the board. Husk was staring too, mouth hanging open, before a surprised laugh slipped from his mouth.
"You're kiddin', there's no way you-"
Once again, Alastor simply said, "all in."
Sliding his soul chip forward. Smile ever-present.
You glanced at Husk, silently wondering what he was going to do. Even with you controlling the game, he'd still never gambled his soul. Whether that was because he didn't trust that you'd let him win or because he didn't want to take the risk of your power failing, you didn't know, but still...he never bet it.
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for his answer, and, after a moment, Husk shook his head in disbelief...before calling Alastor's bet. A first for him, and for you. You took a deep breath and took control of the game again, ready to change the cards, before Alastor---once again---stopped you in your tracks.
"Is this what you want?" He asked, and you froze.
"...what?"
"Is this what you want?" He repeated, sounding genuinely curious, "to spend the rest of your afterlife working here, for this man? Letting him bet your body, your choices, letting him control your free will?"
You blinked. Surprised.
No one had ever asked you what you wanted before.
"I don't..." you trailed off, unsure of exactly what to say to that. Unsure of how to answer the question.
Husk glared at him, the topic of conversation clearly hitting a nerve, "why don't you shut the fuck up and mind your own business you-"
"You don't have to, my dear," Alastor continued, cutting Husk off, "you do have a choice, you know. You could choose to help me, instead of him, or to let fate take its hold."
It hit you then that Alastor knew that Husk was cheating, that he knew you were helping him. And still, he played the game...still, he treated you with kindness and respect.
He was right, though, you did have a choice. The contract of the game specified that you could do whatever you wanted with your control of the game, so long as you were the dealer and not one of the players.
If you wanted, you could make Husk lose.
You could force him into the same position that he'd forced you into.
You could break free from his grip.
Husk growled your name and your gaze snapped toward him. It was a warning, a threat. He owned your soul, he could do whatever he pleased with it, so you better listen to him.
Alastor said your name softly, drawing your attention back to him. A careful reminder. You still had a choice in this, Husk couldn't make you do anything right now. You could always choose not to help him, to help Alastor instead. All for the chance at a better life.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes...
...
...before letting go of all control of the game.
Whatever happened now, it was up to the cards. Not you.
Husk slammed his hands down on the table, making you jump back as piles of chips tumbled to the floor, but before you could get farther away, he lunged at you and grabbed your throat---seething with rage.
"YOU FUCKIN' BITCH, HOW DARE YOU-"
Before he could finish his sentence, or cause you any harm, a green chain suddenly formed around his neck and pulled him back---making him fall to the ground. Your gaze snapped up, only to find Alastor at the other end of the chain---his shadow laughing behind him, grin wide. From there you glanced at the table, only to find-
Alastor had a Royal Flush...
...and Husk had nothing.
You glanced back at Husk and then, again, at Alastor---the reality of everything slowly setting in. Your soul no longer belonged to Husk, even if you were still tied to another Overlord. Now, though, Husk had fallen from his ivory tower.
Now he was just like you.
You couldn't help the hysterical laughter that bubbled up from your chest, a weight you hadn't even known was there suddenly disappearing. It was over. It was all over.
"I guess the house always wins," you managed to get out through your laughter, unable to contain the bright smile that took over your face. You were free of him. You were free of him.
"Indeed, my dear," Alastor replied, chuckling at your little joke, "I can already tell, you and I are going to get along just fine."
You would never admit it, but you thought so too.
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Things Change - Ch. 4
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Pregnant!reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.8 k
Tag List: @boomhauer @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @blackwidownat2814 @prestinalove
Eddie was growing frustrated. He had tried more than once now to talk to you. When back in school, he had tried to seek you out, but you always managed to slip him. The times he went to catch you at your locker, you had conveniently not been there. He tried to sneak into your gym class and he didn’t exactly want to make a scene, but it had been obvious you were trying to act like he wasn’t there. Even in the classes you had together, you showed up last to the class and bolted as soon as the bell rang. At this point, he was getting desperate and the way you avoided him made him no less suspicious that you were carrying his kid. Finally, Eddie walked away from his Hellfire table and dropped himself down onto the table where Robin and Nancy sat eating their lunch. Once again, without you there. 
“Where is she?” Eddie asked the girls.
Robin gave a panicked glance to Nancy, who crossed her arms and regarded Eddie casually. “Who?” Nancy asked him.
“Don’t bullshit me, Wheeler. Y/L/N. Where is she?” he asked again. 
“Not here.” she answered, “Don’t know when I might see her again.”
“You both are her best friends. I don’t believe that,” Eddie pointed out, glancing at Robin, who was practically sweating. Eddie leaned in towards them both. “Listen. I know that you know why I’m looking for them. I just wanna talk to them… please.” Eddie spoke softly, looking at both girls. 
Nancy watched Eddie before looking at Robin, giving the other female a little nod. “She doesn’t eat in here because…. Obvious reasons. But-” Robin started.
“We won’t tell you where she’s eating purely because she’s been struggling to keep food down and she needs to eat. We don’t need you making her nervous and unable to eat,” Nancy cut in.
“But she’ll be home tonight. She’s been sleeping over at our places recently, but she’s home tonight. To face her parents,” Robin supplemented. “They’ve been getting suspicious, and she figured now is better than never.” 
Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek as he processed the information. Was she planning on telling her parents that he was the father and rope him into this? “Thanks. I appreciate it,” Eddie told them and moved to get up.
“Don’t hurt her.” Nancy stared at him. “I know you, for whatever reason, don’t like her… but don’t you dare hurt her. Or I swear-”
Eddie held his hands up. “I’ve seen you wield a gun, Wheeler. No need to threaten me.” he cracked a smile and stood up from the table. “Ladies,” he bowed and left their table, heading back to his own. 
—--------------------------------------------------
It had been a long week, and you looked forward to a weekend without Eddie Munson. Well, without having to avoid him, at least. All your efforts at school had been dedicated to avoiding him. The paranoia grew in you that he knew. Why else was he trying so hard to see you? It was clear with how often he was turning up that he was trying to see you. Firstly, at your gym class, which is what really made you suspicious. From there, it made you avoid going to your locker too often. Your back and arms just had to suffer with carrying more than you usually would with you. Secondly, at lunch but you had just managed to slip away in the crowd of hungry and unruly teens to avoid him. So here you were. Carrying all your stuff, eating lunch in the library, showing up to class almost late, and then leaving right when the bell rang. It was the last class of the day. You were eager to go home and just rest. You sighed as you set down your pencil, feeling another wave of nausea hit you. Shockingly you had made it through most of the day without having to run off. You thought maybe you had gotten lucky. You raise your hand, sure that this might not be a false alarm, but you’ve learned quickly that it was better safe than sorry. There had been once or twice you had thought you were safe, but you weren’t and had to sneak off in the middle of the night to do a load of laundry.
You head out of the classroom and towards the closest bathroom. You look under each stall, checking that the coast was clear before heading into a stall. You sigh as you take some toilet paper, leaning against the cool metal of the stall as you wait. You close your eyes, taking a few deep breaths as you work through the nausea. The door to the bathroom opens, not that you find it odd since it was a public bathroom after all. A gasp ripped through you at the sudden opening of the stall door. Your head whips around, eyes wide as Eddie steps into the stall. He shuts the door behind him, locking it once again.
“Eddie!” you hiss at him. “What the fuck?!”
“Me? Me, what the fuck?!” he hisses back at you.
“What are you doing here?”
“Talking to you, obviously.”
“Why?” you grind out, inching away from him.
“I have to talk to you,” Eddie answers, “About a certain… something.” 
You freeze. You had hoped against all odds that he really just wanted to speak to you about something else. Not the secret you had hidden away. “Something?” you ask softly, deciding to play dumb for right now. 
“Yeah. I heard an interesting piece of information. Well, everyone has.” 
You swallow hard. “Yeah?”
You both sit and stare at one another. Eddie raises his brows as if to invite you to get it out in the open. When you stayed silent, he huffed in frustration. “Y/L/N, are you pregnant?”
Your eyes move everywhere but at Eddie. “Eddie, please…” you murmur.
“Y/L/N.”
“Yes! Okay, yes.” you answer, looking at him finally. 
The look on Eddie’s face is one you struggle to decipher. He looked shocked, worried, but also amazed. “Who’s the father?” Then your stomach dropped. You stared at Eddie like a fish out of water. “Y/L/N. Who is the father?” Eddie repeated himself more firmly this time.
It was just then that the bell rang. “You have seconds.” you replied.
“What?”
“You have seconds before this bathroom is full of girls and I will leave you here,” you warn, reaching behind Eddie for the lock on the stall door.
“Y/L/N, I swear to god.”
“Decide before you have people talking about you hiding in the girls' bathroom.”
Eddie’s jaw clenched at your thin threat. He took a deep breath before pulling the stall door open, stalking out of the bathroom. It was then that you let out a shaky breath, shutting the door again and resting your forehead against the cool metal.
That had been too close. Far too close. You slid out of the bathroom after a few minutes, weaving between bodies of girls flooding the bathroom. You retrieve your things from your last class and quickly make your way out of the building to head home. Before dinner, you hopped into the shower to wash away the stress of the day. You scrubbed at your body, relaxing under the scalding water of the shower. When you got out, you made quick work to dry yourself, pulling on comfy clothes. Tonight was the night you had planned on telling your parents what was going on. They grew suspicious each day, and you knew you couldn’t hide forever. For a moment, you considered changing your mind, but you couldn’t do that. It was better to rip the bandaid off first. You sat on your bed before flopping back, taking in a deep breath and willing the tears to stop gathering on your lash line. You cried so easily nowadays it was exhausting. 
A gentle tapping stirred you from your moment. You turn your head, jumping seeing someone sitting at your window. You groan, seeing the familiar face staring back at you that you had only seen a few hours ago. Eddie gave you a look before motioning down to the lock on your window. You pout at him, crossing your arms. 
“Y/L/N, open the window.” his muffled voice sounds from the other side of the window. You flip him off. Eddie stares you down sternly. “Open it or I’m breaking in.”
You huff, going to the window and unlocking it before walking away. You hear the widow slide up and the gentle thudding as Eddie climbs into your bedroom before sliding the window shut once more. “Do I wanna know why you’re threatening to break into my house?” you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.
“You know why and you know it. You never answered my question in the bathroom,” Eddie points out, not moving away from the window. Like he might throw himself out of it if he needed to.
You take a shaky breath; the tears gathering once again at your lash line. Eddie looks at you, a hint of worry on his face. “Fine. If you’ll stop following me around, I’ll tell you.” you answer and furiously wipe at your cheeks when the tears finally escape. “It’s yours. Okay? I haven’t been with anyone else. Frankly, it’s a little insulting you think I was.”
“Well, you told me you were on the pill,” he accused. “Or was that a lie?”
“It wasn’t!” you hissed back at him, turning to your bedside table and pulling the drawer out roughly. You pull out your package of birth control and toss it at him. “For obvious reasons, I have stopped taking them,” you tell him as you watch him pick up the little package. “Fun fact: some medications can fuck with your birth control.” you pick up the bottle of migraine meds and shake it, the sound of the pills rattling around the only sound in the room. You set down the box and watch Eddie fiddle with the package of your now useless birth control. You sit down on your bed, pulling your pillow onto your lap and fiddling with the end of it. Eddie slowly moves closer, sitting down beside you on your bed and tossing the birth control behind him.
“What do we do?” he finally murmurs. “Isn’t there like… doctors who take care of this shit?”
You sigh. “I tried. I did… it was awful there, Munson. Trust me,” you admit, glancing at Eddie. His eyes were trained on the wall across from you both. You could see his chocolate orbs moving, taking in your bedroom.
“Wheeler said you were telling your parents tonight.”
“I am. My mom is suspicious. She’s been asking a lot of questions. I don’t think she knows, but she knows something is up.” 
“What’s the chance I’m gonna end up with a shotgun pointed at my chest?”
“None.” Eddie finally meets your eyes. “I was going to keep your name out of it. Unless you don’t want me to, but I kinda assumed you didn’t wanna be in on this.”
Eddie nods slowly. “I’d appreciate that. I don’t think…I don’t think I could do it. I can’t do it.”
You nod. “Then I won’t mention you. I promise. They might try to strong arm an answer out of me but you have my word. I won’t tell a soul.”
“No one else knows?”
“Well, no. Nancy does. She knows we… but we haven’t talked about it.”
“Got it.” Eddie murmurs, falling silent again. The two of you sit there in silence for a few minutes, both unsure what to do now. “I’m sorry,” Eddie suddenly spoke. “For… knocking you up. Ruining your life I guess.”
“It’s okay.” you shrug, “I… college will be there. And besides, I wanted to be a mom one day and if you remember, I tried to go, but I couldn’t do it. It reeked of alcohol, like it was too clean in there. And everything, literally everything, was pink and blue.”
Eddie’s nose scrunched. “As if you gotta be reminded why you’re there.”
“Exactly! It was awful. And ugly. The smell I can wave off cause I feel like a bloodhound right now. Not something they can help.”
“Really?” 
You nod, staring at Eddie. “I can smell things that literally were hardly in the room. When my mom cooks, I have to hide up here.” you point to your door where you shoved a spare towel at the bottom of it with the intention of blocking out the smell. “I can smell the weed and cigarettes on you from when you were at the window.” you tell him.
“I haven’t smoked in hours.” Eddie replies and you nod, tapping your nose.
“Bloodhound. It’s insane. The smell is clinging to your clothes.”
“That’s… weird.”
“Munson, that’s not even the beginning of it.” you answer, “I checked out a bunch of pregnancy books. Shit is wild. And mildly terrifying and by mildly, I mean very.”
Eddie winces thinking about how it must be. He’s seen pregnant women before, of course. Their bellies swollen well past their feet. The thought passes through his head how he had now done this to you. What you were going to go through.
“You should go.” you murmur. Your mom would be calling you down for dinner soon and you rather Eddie be nowhere near your house when you did talk to them. “My mom will be calling me down any time now,” you explain.
Eddie nods and slides off of your bed. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to say goodbye to you. “I’ll, uh, see you later,” he murmurs and moves over to your window. You slide off of your bed and follow him, watching him open up your window again and climb out. You slowly shut your window, locking it once again, and watch Eddie carefully scale back down the side of your house. You watch as he jogs off, presumably to his car, that he probably parked farther from your house to avoid suspicion. You step away from the window, determined not to sit and watch to see if he comes back. A small part of you wanted him to. You stood alone in your bedroom as you realized you would have to do this alone, too. You were going to do all of this alone. Your hand drifts to your stomach once again just as your mom calls your name up the stairs, adding that dinner is ready.
You sigh and move the towel from the door, heading down the stairs to the dining room. Your parents are sat at the table. Your father sat at the head of the table, cold beer cracked open to accompany his dinner. Your mom is fussing around, getting the last bits of dinner onto the table before sitting down to pour herself a glass of red wine.
“Oh, there you are, honey. I think I’ve got everything.” your mom smiles, motioning for you to sit.
You go over, sitting down in your usual spot. You start to fill your plate knowing you probably won’t eat most of what you pile on there. Your parents launch into a conversation about how their day went as you take bites of mashed potatoes. It was one of the few food items you could manage without feeling ill after.
—-------------------------------
Eddie pulls himself into his van and as he shuts the door, a pit sets in his stomach. It doesn’t feel right. None of it feels right. He feels like.. He isn’t sure. He turns the key in his ignition and his van roars to life. For once in his life, he turns his music down as the voice of Ozzy fills the space. Eddie leans back in his seat, glancing around the quiet neighborhood he doesn’t belong in. He rolls down his window, pulling his pack of Camels from his jacket pocket and quickly placing one between his lips. He lights it up and takes a long drag of some much needed nicotine. He feels it quell his nerves a bit, enough for him to think about going home. He pulls the cigarette from his lips, a plume of smoke billowing from his lips as he switches the gearshift to drive. He pulls away from his spot and heads back to the trailer park.
By the time he gets there, his cigarette is done, and he feels only a little better. He figures some food would do him some good. He jumps out of his van and heads inside. Uncle Wayne is at the stove, working on dinner for them both before his shift. The old man usually eats and jets off. “Hey, son.” Wayne calls. He piles a plate full of spaghetti with marinara and grabs a second one, bringing both to their small table.
“Hey, Uncle Wayne.” Eddie answers, barely managing not to wince at being called ‘son’. It didn’t bother him that Wayne was calling him that. It was the fact that his immediate thought was: would I have a son? Or a daughter?
Wayne sets the plates down and falls into his seat with a soft grunt. He starts to dig in, noticing Eddie still standing there. “Cat got your tongue, boy?” 
Eddie shakes his head as if to physically clear it from more thoughts of you. He pulls out his chair and slides his jacket off, draping it over the back of his chair before falling into his seat and starting to shovel spaghetti into his mouth. A part of him felt like vomiting. Not vomit, but words. He felt anxious. He wanted to tell Wayne. He wanted advice. What should he do? He thought he did the right thing… but did he?
“What’s bothering you?”
Eddie’s head snaps up, staring at his uncle. Wayne is watching him, silently twirling spaghetti around his fork as he regards his nephew. “W-What?” Eddie managed to spit out.
“You’ve been livin with me on and off for a few years now. Since you were a wee boy. Now steadily living with me for a few years now. I know when something is bothering you. Are you having nightmares about that place again? Should I call those doctors?”
“No! No, no nightmares again.” Eddie reassures his uncle. After everything had happened and Eddie was laid up in the hospital, it became impossible to keep the truth from him. The party, along with Chief Hopper and Ms. Byers, had filled his Uncle Wayne in on what had really happened. Wayne hovered a lot more after he had learned what happened. After a year had passed, he started to ease up.
“Then what’s bothering you so much? You look like you’re ready to start climbing the walls.”
“I got a girl pregnant!” Eddie yelled, voice cracking in the beginning, but he had said it. Loudly. 
Wayne sat there, mouth open as he stared at Eddie. Eddie gulped, ready for the talking to of his lifetime. Did he get yelled at when Wayne found out he sold weed? Yes. Did he get scolded for all the times he failed graduating high school? Yes. Did he get gently scolded for disappearing after what happened in their old trailer?... yes. But this? Eddie had no clue what would happen. Wayne dropped his fork, elbows on the table, as he laced his fingers together. He watched Eddie. Eddie hoped the ground would open up and swallow him whole. 
“And?” Wayne asks.
Eddie’s mouth opens and closes. And what? Eddie thought to himself. Wayne is still watching him. “And?” he repeated back to his uncle.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Wayne asks, “What has she said?”
Eddie gulps again. “She, uh, she is telling her parents. Tonight. Probably like right now.”
“So, why are you here?”
Eddie’s eyes finally move back down to his plate at Wayne’s question. “She, we, uh,”
“Look at me, son,” Wayne softly commands.
Eddie looks back up at his uncle. “I’m being left out of it. Her parents won’t know it’s me and I won’t be…”
“Around?” Wayne looked disappointed. “Who decided that?”
“She suggested it. And I agreed. I wanted it…”
“So you’re telling me that you got this girl pregnant and you just let out? Abandon her and your kid. Cause whether you like it or not, son, that baby is half yours. Half your genes. Half your responsibility. Hell, since you up and left her it should probably be more your responsibility than her’s. You’ve got the swimmers, after all.” 
“Wayne,” Eddie barely got the word out.
“I ain’t done.” Wayne warned him, giving him a look. “I thought I raised you better, Edward. I woulda thought…” Wayne heaves a heavy sigh. “I woulda thought after being around Al Munson that you’d do better than him.”
Eddie felt like ice was being pumped through his veins. He felt anger boil in his chest. He wasn’t his father. He was nothing like Al Munson, who disappeared on and off on Eddie since he was in the third grade. Who he hadn’t seen in years after the last time he tried to get him to help him with some scheme. But Eddie also felt guilt. He felt guilt in the pit of his stomach because Eddie had abandoned you. He left you there alone to face your parents alone. Like a coward. Like a coward, he ran again.
“I’m disappointed, son.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Eddie admitted quietly, “I don’t know how to be a dad. I’d probably suck at it.”
“You don’t know that. Hell, you think anyone has any idea how to be a parent? I sure as shit didn’t. But I learned. I learned how to take care of you right.” Wayne shrugs, “And I think I did a pretty good damn job, all things considered. Ya know, besides the other dimensions thing.”
“I’m scared, too.”
“And you think she isn’t?” Wayne chuckled, “Boy, you have no clue what she’s about to go through. But there’s still time for you to change your mind. Take responsibility. I’m not sayin you have to marry the girl. You don’t even have to be with her if that’s not what you want, but be there for that baby. They’re innocent in all this, you know.”
Eddie slumped in his seat. He knew his uncle was right. Of course, his uncle was right. Eddie glanced at the clock. He had to hope you hadn’t told your parents yet. If you had, hell, he might have time to jump in the middle of a screaming match. Eddie pushed away from the table, pulling his jacket off of his chair and slipping it on.
“Atta boy. I’ll put your food in the fridge.” Wayne told him, “Oh, and son?”
Eddie paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”
“You better bring her by to meet your old man.”
Eddie gulped and nodded. “Yes, sir.” he saluted his uncle before flying out the door to his van.
187 notes · View notes
bts5sosempire · 10 months
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the tyrant (viii)
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sukuna ryomen x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5,852 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: old time period, mention of arranged marriage, polygamous marriages, slow-burn yandere, power imbalances, peer pressure, mentions of infertility, etc. 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: "you were the apple of Sukuna’s eyes, the one who brought him solace and everything. The only thing you were incapable of was giving him a child, an heir he wished to spoil like he did to you." 𝐚/𝐧: I AM FINALLY DONE! Went pass the word limit istg. But hope y'all are ready what y/n is planning. 👀 btw, please like ❤️, comment in the "comment" section 📝 for tagging, and reblog 🔄 if you wish. Forgot I edited some parts in different chaps too, so if you see minor changes in them then I was fixing them.
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Another few more months with the year ending, and another would mark the end of five years. Despite being bedridden, it had made you uneasy since spending the luxury time doing nothing had made you naught. Yumi and the personal servants who you had personally hired for your inner circle inside the castle had been keeping you posted up about your businesses from the outside. Everything was going well.
Holding the reports over the fire, it lights up when the corner catches, "I'm gonna leave for a bit." You told Yumi, who was alarmed by you.
They started to panic, "You already received your reports saying all is well; you shouldn't move around a lot." Yumi tried to sway your mind, but you had already stood up from your bed and in front of your long mirror.
With your arms stretched out, the personal servants you hired from the outside who knew about your secret come to your aid. They swiftly took off your attire and replaced it with your pseudo outfit. You rarely snuck out, but today you feel rebellious. Staying in bed may get you sick in staying in bed.
You turn around to grab Yumi by the arms and put her in your futon, "Stay here and be good." With a soft smile, you open the door and poke your head out and look around for a particular male valet. Outside, your room was quiet; everyone was prepping for dinner now and cleaning the dining area to feast later. "Where are they?" And right on cue, their eyes met yours when appearing from a corner, and they understood immediately when you nodded at them.
With the quick perception of their view, their feet race towards you. "Everyone is busy; it should take about two hours at most." They informed you with a bow, their gaze not meeting yours.
"Good," coming out of your room, your feet glide across the polished wooden boards as they tail closely behind you. Behind every castle are secret walls; you happened to know it by accident during your research days as becoming Seijuro Hajime. It somehow comes in handy now.
After making swift turns around the halls, you stop right in the middle of a wall that is made of a stack of jagged stone slabs building on top of another; its color that was once in the shade of grey birch is now darkened with tints of green. Its gap of lines was filled with green and yellow moss and heavy, unruly vibes hanging from above. The area you'll frequent quite a lot is an abandoned wing rumored to be a gorgeous garden but is now defiled by aging neglect. The large pond that was filled with colors of Koi fish is now empty with weeds and putrid water that is left behind by the rain. Chip redwoods of a bridge leading to a roofless gazebo that represents the heart and main attraction of the pond. Overall, everything is in bad condition.
Your fingers smoothly ran along every crevice and protruding bump of each slab, and it wasn't until you reached the smaller rock with a small mark that could go unnoticed under the human eyes if no one was paying attention to it. Faintly remembering the details at the back of your head, you push the rock, which caves into your strength.
There was a low rumble from within the walls, and debris fell from above the shaking forces. The wall split into two, and faint mechanic whirring gears could be heard. Torches mounted on the wall spring into life as each illuminates the dark long descending stairs ahead of you. Red wooden beams were worn for ages, also holding the tunnel. A faint smell of wet, sticky residue lingers in the air.
Well, that's ominous. You turn around to face the valet, and they bid you a half farewell, "Stay safe." Nodding at them, they press another adjacent block to the opening block, and the doors come sliding close.
You descend the stairs and follow one pathway until you reach the middle, where it diverges to three; if you remember, you should take the one on the right. It also says in the blueprint that there is a trigger for activating traps; right in the center is a hanging bell above. If the bell is cut loose, all the mechanisms within the walls will run. You eye the old rusted bell that is darkened with a barely color of copper resembling it.
°
"Did you miss me?" Someone throws themselves and wraps their arms around your neck behind you. You place a hand on top of the table to save yourself from toppling forward face-first into the food. The cup of warm tea of amber liquid spilled over your nimble fingers. Their scent entered your nose, and it was the same person you bumped into before. "You know you're very hard to find; I scoured the whole city." Sliding their arms around, that now occupied your arm, they sat beside you as if they were your lover.
Personal space for you is also gone.
You patiently set the cup down and grabbed the rag near the portable stove that warmed the teapot. Wiping away the spilled remnant, you inch away from the clingy woman by loosening your arm, but she only tightens it with a pout. For some reason, you don't think you understand the choice a young woman like her makes to try to be cute to get their way. I mean, you're a woman. That's why you're probably immune to it.
In the first place, you only came out here to be a spectator since, within your report, there should be two high clans born male heirs trekking through the city that Sukuna rules from Yuichi. But you doubt you can complete your task today if you don't do anything.
"It's rude not to look at the person talking to you. Do you know who I am?" They tugged your arm. "My older cousin runs this city, and I could have your head, too, you know?" It looks like it will be hard to get your attention, "My cousin is Sukuna Ryomen."
Upon hearing his name, you tried to remain indifferent, but you only let out a small huff of a laugh. 'This should be interesting to pass the time.' The woman thought throwing her cousin's name around would add weight and make her cave in, but it seemed to be doing the opposite effect. Without her knowing, you decided to amp up a charming facade. "The Sukuna Ryomen?" You turn your head to face her, and the coy smile that split across your lips made the woman frown. Why aren't you scared of her? "Do you know," you stare into those pomegranate eyes that share the same color as Sukuna, "throwing your cousin's name around isn't safe too? You're making yourself a target for-" your eyes roam around the room. A few people were looking your way, and the woman noticed it too and flushed red, "-those to take advantage of."
"If only you looked at me when I asked!" Kiriko fumbles out an excuse, and her face becomes hotter and red.
This makes you decide to toy with the woman. Since she has a relation to your supposed husband, it would be easy to probably get the information right if you knew how to ask. Although you think you wouldn't be able to, it's not hard for you to play around with her. "From what I heard, he isn't a good man."
"What do you know about him?" She bites back.
"He plays favorites with certain people, and there's this special wife he's rather fond of." You quip to get a reaction from her, and it seems to hit the mark. "I saw her a few times, and she's lovely that many of these city and village folks adore her. Got to say she's a woman after my own heart if she wasn't married."
"You shouldn't like her!" Kiriko jealousy spouted, and with a tug of your arm towards her, you thought she might yank it off its socket. "She might be pretending to be nice to make people like her! You should like someone genuine like me!" She declared, and this made you snort another laugh. A woman jumping the horse, it seems. You don't know what she has heard about you, but it is pretty amusing. "What? You don't believe me?" Now she sounds offended.
"It's not that I don't believe you," wanting to tease her more, you swoop in closer to her, "but I don't believe in tarnishing another person just on baseless rumors or what they have or heard against her." Kiriko shrinks back from the sudden closeness. She was quiet, and then you turned your attention away from her. "Sir," you raise a hand to pay for your tab. Once they're near, you drop the payment into their outstretched hands.
Sliding your arm out of their hold, you lighten up your pace with the woman chasing after you. "Wait!" They shouted after you, and you made eye contact with a nearby seller who understood what you indicated. The seller grabbed a bucket of water and poured it onto the ground right after Kiriko was close enough to be after you. Kiriko shrieks out when the lower half of her attire is wet. "Watch where you throw that dirty water, you peasant!"
"Ah, I'm sorry, Miss." They awkwardly apologize.
Kiriko bites the bottom of her lip and looks at your back; you don't even turn around to check if she's alright. She watches your figure disappear into the heads of an endless crowd with a little bit of resentment. She'll make you look her way no matter what since she wants to take you back to her homeland as a spouse by the end of her stay, even if it's by force.
[at a random inn]
"So what's the deal?" You suddenly appeared by Yuichi's side, who got slightly spooked.
"You got to stop doing that," the man told you; he put a hand over his chest. You only laugh and cross your arms before looking below from the second floor. Yuichi saw you spectating two males who stood out like a sore thumb in the crowds of primary cotton colors clothing of grey, dark grey, and brown. "I thought you weren't going to come?"
"And miss this glorious sight?" You humor Yuichi but cut it short too. "I must return to the castle soon, or my covers blow. So who are they?" Motioning the two rich strangers talking lowly to one another, Yuichi tilts his head slightly toward you.
"The one in deep indigo is Totsuwa Iriyu; from my sources that I have people gathered around, his family used to serve the Emperor before they fell from grace. The funny thing is your husband was involved with their family, and there were speculations that he took them off from the Inner Circle of the Emperor Hoshu." Yuichi explains, and you thought that might be something Sukuna would do. "And the one in dark green is Mugetsu Rintoru, and he's that buddy, in the deep indigo best friend too. He also has a problem with your husband too."
"Everybody seems to have problems with Sukuna; I'm unsurprised." Amusement dances across your lips, "How long are they planning to stay?"
"Approximately up to three weeks since they did get an invitation from Sukuna." Now that made you raise an eyebrow.
"Guess invitation isn't what is going in their mind too; nobody comes here in Sukuna's land with no pure thoughts since he is the most sought after when it comes to wealth. And revenge." You then un-latch your arms and pat Yuichi's biceps. "I'll approach them in my time, but keep an eye on them."
°
Your servants all scamper away when Sukuna walks through the hall; they all refuse to look up but still greet him in acknowledgment. But the one that felt like they were getting a heart attack was the one who was your spies. Sukuna had come to pick you up for dinner quite early. They all gave each a look to see who would intercept him. There was a back-and-forth motion of 'No, you' between the servants. But it wasn't until Sukuna positioned himself in front of them they all hesitantly looked up.
"L-Lord Sukuna, Lady (Name) is still resting." One squeaks out in fear; despite being hired by you, they still fear Sukuna.
"Move aside," he commanded.
"She wishes not to be disturbed, My Lord." The same person quickly interjected.
Sukuna clicked his tongue, "Do you wish to die?" He glowers down at them, and they all shrink back. "Now. Move. Aside." Sukuna said each word with heavy and daunting syllables, and the servants sidestepped demurringly. If their heart could leap out of their chest, this would be the best time.
Before Sukuna could open the door, it slid open, and there was you. "What's with all this commotion?" You don't need to look at your servants who tried to stop Sukuna lets out breaths of relief. Sukuna peaks over your head and sees books lying on your table.
Sukuna: "Thought you were resting, no?"
You: "I did; I woke up a while ago."
Without further ado, you try to bypass Sukuna, but he takes good of your hand. You wanted to rip it from his hold without causing much fuss, but he tightened his grip. "You seem well enough now; your colors are back." He took steps with you side by side.
"You are already starting to make me sick," exasperation released from your voice when you tugged your hand again, and Sukuna tutted at you.
"There's that tone that I've missed," he purrs, and if he's successfully getting under your nerves, he's doing a great job. You were clenching your jaws. "I've got something to show you after dining too." From his tone, Sukuna was rather excited; it was only a slight pitch lighter.
[excution field]
A heavy fur coat was draped around your shoulders. You don't understand why he brought you here right after eating. Most of all, the execution ground. You got a hand to cover the smell. Sukuna leans heavily behind you with his arms encasing you; somehow, this feels familiar, like that one day. Once again, you attempted to shrug him off, but it always made him want to be closer to you.
There was fresh blood over the dried blood; even the stench of death couldn't be erased from this place. You never really visited the site; this was the first time in five years you had set foot on the ground where innocent sinners came to die by Sukuna's final resolution. "I like you to be the first to witness something that could lead me to more winning conquest." He said, leaning his head low and letting his lips touch your ears; Sukuna's breath fans over one side of your face. You silently tilt your head to look up at him; questions linger in your eyes.
Sukuna was jittering in excitement, and this was something. You rarely see him like this; he can be proud and loud within his moments. This is something new. He's barely contained.
Sukuna lets himself be away from you, which makes you inwardly happy. "Bring it out!"
It didn't take two frightening retainers to bring out a wooden craftsman box. Sukuna flipped the lid open, and inside, it was presented to be some long metal rod with wood attachments. You were observing not too far away from Sukuna. Sukuna lifts it out of its case and settles an aim. "Get the prisoners too." You recognize that black powder from anywhere when Sukuna pops the lid open and pours it into the opening of the barrel. Then he used a rod to push the powder more profoundly into the narrow tunnel before setting the breech on fire.
"What are you doing?" You ask him; somehow, dread-filled your chest when you saw three people lined up and tied to a thick wooden pool. You can hear their whimpers from where you're at.
"You'll see," was all he said; Sukuna leveled the weapon up and above over his shoulder as he aimed again, then pulled the trigger with a steady finger.
BANG!
The sound made you jump; you instinctively covered your ears in fright with your heart hammering, as did the people far and near to witness. Smoke came from the weapon, but it was pushed away and dissipated into the atmosphere by the wind. What you were looking at wasn't the weapon itself but the person tied to the wooden stake. Their head was blown clean right off, just from this distance where Sukuna stands.
Is this what he wanted to show you? The future? How it's going to be in his hand?
"Did I spook you? Sorry," Sukuna carefully put the weapon back into its case and walked toward you; he took your hands from your ears and slotted them into his own. Your eyes wouldn't move away from the headless corpse; it was stuck wide open, witnessing the scene. It wasn't until you blinked again and pulled your hands back from his hold then your curiosity overtook.
You: "What did you do to them?"
Sukuna: "It's obvious what I did, didn't it?"
You: "Yes, you did. I'm asking what kind of weapon was that."
Sukuna glances over his shoulder before covering the view by stepping to the side when you try to take another look. "I must admit, the Portuguese did come with something this time. It's a Matchlock rifle. It's one of the prototypes, not permanent yet."
"A rifle? You can kill someone from this distance?" Your furrowed brows and contorted face of confusion almost make Sukuna lose composure. This is undoubtedly the first time in a while that you have been interested in something and was willing to talk with him, without sassing back, of course.
"Even further, too," Sukuna confirm. "But like I said, this is just a prototype, not yet decided. I want to talk to the Portuguese and have a room ready for one of their men to stay behind and modify the rifle with me."
You: "Why modify it when it's already deadly enough as it is?"
Sukuna: "Not deadly enough to my liking."
°
You were back to your room and became a sitting duck again. 'If Sukuna could get that weapon, then we're screwed.' When evolution for weapons couldn't get any better or worse, you almost felt worried. Sukuna would indeed be able to conquer land much more and faster, but with that rate, even the death of others he's going to take isn't going to remain stagnant anymore.
More bloodshed and the lives of others will continue to bleed over this land of Japan.
"Get this letter to Yuichi as fast as possible tomorrow during your shift outside; we need information." You fold the letter with deft hands and give it to a male retainer. "Be careful."
"Lady (Name), you have a gift from Sultana Aida." Yumi hands you a box, and it is wrapped neatly. "It was sent earlier when you were in the...field."
You took the box and unwrapped the red sash around it. Sultana Aida has sent you self-care items, especially body oil, and cream. The scent was sweet and fresh, not overpowering enough to give you a headache. The oil inside the clear bottle was in a rich hue of gold, and the body cream was sealed tightly in a jar too. Sultana Aida had a penchant for making perfume and women's essential needs. You met them over a year ago during a foreign meeting.
"Send a gift back to her." You told Yumi, who nodded and went outside to where there is a room where you store all your possession and gifts.
[night time]
There was a fluid snap of your doors being open and closed; the person who always comes into your room as they please is Sukuna himself. Through the bronze mirror, you could see Sukuna in his loose attire, which exposed the skin of his partial chest once he was close enough to where the lantern light could reach. You applied the body cream you received today to your neck before Sukuna settled himself behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and chin upon your shoulder.
You froze for a quick second. Sukuna closes his eyes in bliss to take in the scent. "This smells nice." Even if he notices your discomfort, he doesn't care at the moment, not right now. He nuzzles his nose closer until it presses against your neck, and the warm breath of his seeps through your skin and into the thinness of your night clothes. You close the lid over your body cream and set it aside.
"What do you want?" Your eyes remain on the mirror, which shows how relaxed Sukuna is; he got you in between his legs as they were propped up to where his knees were bending. There was a deep inhale from him.
"I can't even be here in my own home?" He inquired, "I'm here to spend the night with you." That made you decisively rip his arm off around your waist.
"No, you're not," you shot back and marched away from him to create a distance. "You have plenty of women in your harem who wanted to spend time with you," on the other side of the room, you defiantly look at the man, who gives you a lop side grin.
"I'm not bedding you, not right now." Sukuna restates your thoughts, "Just sleeping side by side." Your face was stoned, but it was enough for Sukuna to tell that you didn't believe him when your brows twitched. There was a 'huh' from you, and you were gunning for the door, and in a flash, Sukuna had you in his embrace again. Another momentarily struggle from you when you start to kick and tell him repeatedly to let you go. "Don't," he whispered huskily into your ear, "I won't do anything, I promise." The man carried you by the waist with both arms and settled down with you in a slump onto the large futon.
Sukuna loosened his arms, and you slithered away to the other side of the bed and got under the cover with your back turned to him. He wanted to push the boundaries, but he wouldn't. Getting under the surface, too, he remains still watching the slope of your curves highlighted by the sheet and your back rising and falling. Sukuna gathered your hair that was pools around the gap in between you both and played with the ends; he let them loop around his forefinger before running a thumb over the silk feeling of it. He then brings the strands to his lips and kisses them to bid good night to you.
Then the light went out.
°
You roll over in bed and bring the blanket under your chin to snuggle in deeper. But why did something feel heavy around you? There was difficulty opening your eyes, and when you did, sleep didn't completely fade away as drowsiness was still evident. If it weren't for the hand patting your back to lull you back to sleep, then you would've done so. "Go back to sleep." With a heavy grave tone that slinks into one of your senses, the haze of sleep washes away. Angling your head up, you see the fondness in Sukuna's eye and push him away in shock with an 'ack,' and Sukuna only rolls onto his back in bed. The man almost laughs at your reaction. Quickly sitting up in bed, you didn't realize how bright the room was when your face was scrunched up and brought the bed sheet up to your chest. Even outside was quiet.
Sukuna almost forgot you make so many faces during sleep and even when you wake up, although not this much. There was a yawn from you as you covered it with both hands, then you swept your hands through your hair. "It's almost near ten if you're wondering." He repositioned himself again on the futon, laying on his side with one leg propped up while he used one hand to support his head under his chin.
"Get out," voice groggy; you stood up from the bed to prepare for the day, but Sukuna reached across the bed and brought you back down.
"You should sleep in more; you look adorable when sleeping." Sukuna teases you, and by instinct, you try to tear your wrist away, but this further fuels him to bring you into his arms and lock you up. Cradling you, he brushes a few strays of hair out. The push and pull you both had is almost desirable to other women in the harem. Sukuna in the morning looks different, nearly too humane for your liking. When he brushes the hair aside, he lingers his hand on the apple of your cheek and brings his lips to kiss the top of your head. Your reaction was like a cat sprayed with water, always struggling. "I almost forgot; good morning to you too." The body scent you had acquired sticks to you so well that it is only what pheromones entirely throughout the night. Maybe this is the scent he likes, besides your natural scent.
"I took some time off from my affairs and decided to tend to you." If you look offended, you do indeed; anything he does for you sounds like an offense. The foreign topic of him trying to soften you up always seems helpless, but Sukuna has time to try everything; a man like him is never out of ideas.
"I don't need you to," glaring at Sukuna, his smiles widened even more, and you took the liberty to push his face away when he closed up again with your other free hand.
[afternoon]
He was serious when he said he wouldn't leave you alone. You wanted to be by yourself, but he made it difficult. Not only had he dismissed everyone who served under you and told them that their service wasn't needed for the day, but he was also hand-hogging you.
Sukuna grabs your hand, and you forcefully pull it away; he does it again, and you repeat it. This childish play continues until he grasps it tightly, forcing you to walk side by side. "Let go." You wiggle your hand, trying not to lose composure, and Sukuna swiftly plays with your fingers and separates them from interlocking his with yours to tighten the hold.
"No," that one-word answer from him had you wish you could disappear into the air magically. "I made a promise, and I intended to keep it." Sukuna brings you even closer as you bump into his arm.
You both were walking to nowhere, only letting your feet guide you and him around the fortress ground. It wasn't until Asuna's head appeared in your view that Danzo's tugged his mother's hand to tell his mother he wanted to visit you quickly.
"Danzo?" You call from a few feet away, and the little boy brightens. He lets go of Asuna's hand and runs toward you at full speed, and knocks himself into your legs. Danzo smiles happily at you, and you use your free hand to pat the boy's head. Asuna greeted you and Sukuna while lingering where she stood. Her eyes trail to your and Sukuna's hands which are interlocked tightly. As a spectator, the scene ahead of her almost makes it seems like a perfect family of three should be if Danzo were yours, even though you were awkward in showing affection to Danzo in front of Sukuna. She kept seeing you side-eying the taller man, who was observing every millimeter of interaction. Asuna's son was very fond of you during the first meeting, even if he had misunderstood you for being a character from a book. Although you don't mind interpretation, you were rather genuine in your exchange with Danzo.
"Have you been good?" You readjust the multiple layers of collars of Danzo's clothing, fixing any creases. Danzo nodded rapidly with a hum.
"Use your mouth," Sukuna spoke up, and you again side-eye him. Danzo's little body tensed up at the sound of his father. You pretended to wiggle your hand in Sukuna's and elbow his side purposely, and he saw a subtle disapproving eye and a frown from you. You were peeved with his tendencies. Why be a grown man picking on a child, especially his own? Even his half-brother was treated almost the same.
Before you can open your mouth to comfort the child, multiple voices enter the yard. Out and emerge from the corner is Eisha with her daughter and Sena accompanying the crown matriarch along with a few minor concubines. Everyone was locking eyes with each other and stopped their idling talking. Eisha (along with Sena) picked up on how close you were to Sukuna, and a knot formed in her chest when the apparent physical contact of hand-holding was the first thing she saw. A tight-lipped wry gambol set on her lips as she greeted Sukuna and ushered her daughter, Eri, to do the same, so the rest followed suit. But her eyes flickered to Danzo's last second; he was also close. Eisha knew that Asuna's son wasn't a thought in Sukuna's mind as he was just one of the many children he sired. Still, it tickles her interest why he was so close when her daughter wasn't granted the same physical closeness but a mere glance.
"Greetings Lord Sukuna/ Father." Then the rest greeted you, besides Eisha, due to ranking. You give the rest acknowledgment with a thin nod and adequately greet Eisha only. "What brings you all out here, Lord Sukuna?" She inquires with pique curio sitting at the back of her mind.
"Thought it would do Lady (Name) good for some fresh air." Then Sukuna turns the question to Eisha, "And what are you doing out here? You are frail and susceptible to the cold, which could worsen your health."
"I'm glad that you ask Lord Sukuna," she then pulls Eri forward in front of her by the hand gently. Almost as if she wants Sukuna to acknowledge the child. "I came out here with Eri for a walk after her studies." There was only a flat 'oh' from Sukuna, and from how he sounded, it lacked interest. Even Sena picks up on the tone, and that pricks a nerve. If Sukuna doesn't even care about her two previous children, then why would he care about Eri at all? Even in your presence, he doesn't seem to show filial affection towards them.
"I see; carry on with your walk then." Sukuna quickly dismissed them, but Eisha wasn't willing to let go.
"If I could, would Your Lordship, Lady (Name), and Concubine Asuna allow us to join your route?" Eisha wouldn't allow you and Asuna to be alone with Sukuna. And behind her back, she made a hand sign which the lower-ranking concubines understood and made a quick excuse to leave the yard. So now that only leaves her, Eri, and Sena. What Eisha did, didn't escape Sukuna's vision; that only made him take a deep and intolerable sigh inwardly.
All he asked for was one day with you without interruption.
For Asuna, she thought this timing couldn't be any worse with the visible tension brewing. She could tell that Sukuna's mood had floundered a bit since, after all, he was only out here to be with you. Then she focused on you, which she could say for once; your mood seemed to be in sync with Sukuna, although you wanted to get rid of him.
°
Two weeks later, two figures on separate horses rode up and stopped by the entrance.
"So this is Sukuna's mighty castle, huh?" Mugetsu's keen eyes search every nook and cranny of the building to see how well the fortress is built. Then there's Totsuwa, who already feels the regret setting in. He only accepted the invitation out of sheer impulsiveness and hatred for the pink hair man, and now the feelings somehow dissolved once he made it to Sukuna's Hell doorstep. It was easy for Totsuwa to imagine himself slaying the demon and reclaiming all his honor, power, and glory that Sukuna had muddled; he even talks significantly about it in his drunken stupor at an inn a week back.
"Don't be a chicken now, Iriyu," Mugetsu teases his best friend, "we might be able to learn more about our enemy." Somehow that doesn't sound comforting to Totsuwa, even when their tone is meant to lighten him up.
Getting off their horses, they handed the reins to a stable boy and looked for someone with deep pink and white hair. It wasn't hard to spot them when they were wearing their white garment. "Hello, Lord Mugetsu and Lord Totsuwa; I am Uraume, Lord Sukuna's retainer." They greet the two men with a proper bow, "If you would please follow me, I'll guide you two."
Mugetsu tapped Totsuwa's arm a few times, "They look pretty," he whispered, eyeing Uraume's back, "if only I wasn't married and they weren't your buddy's retainer, then I would've gotten them."
"Please, for the love of God, shut up!" Totsuwa whispers right back to his friend. "You always say that to every pretty woman you walk by!"
Mugetsu: "I can't help it, though."
[sukuna's office]
"Whoa..." Surprise color Mugetsu and Totsuwa when they saw not just the room but you seated a foot away from Sukuna. Rumors about the favorite wife do hold.
"Stop ogling at my wife," the pink-haired man snapped, brows drawn together into a scowl with the corner of his lip quirking up, and a tongue click could be heard. Sukuna wasn't sure why you insisted on being here; he would let you join any other meetings, but why this one? He doesn't know. There was a smidge of hesitation presenting at the back of his mind even though he tried to push it away logically; it always came back up. However, Sukuna wouldn't let it show. During the last two weeks, you and he had an on-and-off time together, the same usual push and pull. Still, you somehow had inserted yourself into his schedule willingly today with the promise of being interested in politics.
Sukuna had warned you it would be boring to dissuade you from this meeting, but you brought up a point, "You were the one who allowed me to visit your meetings, but now you won't let me?" Point taken, and now here you are. In the logical aspect, this allows Sukuna to spend time with you. Albeit not the way how he wanted it. But he couldn't brush away the nagging thought that it didn't feel right for you to be here.
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Taglist: @sukunasobject​ @lilliansstuff @lucyrocks86 @ladywolf44005 @watyousayin @sandronebabyy​ @pinkrose1422​ @skepticalleo​ @please-help-therapy-needed​ @whatsonthemirror​ @krispsprite​ @loser-alert​ @saturnknows @samdric @littlemochi​ @akigoat​ @mxghostbee​ @rose4958​ @shadowywizardarcade​ @huicitawrites​ @baji-keisukes-wife @choso-wifey​ @jovialeggsbailiffsoul​ @sanderaen​ @peonnnny​ @tiredlattes​ @waytomanyhusbands​ @whatamidoing89​ @utena-akashiya​ @outrofenty​ @welcometodemonschoolfan​ @im-a-killer-queen​ @loverisa @bubera974 @sashaphantomhive​ @chaoticstrawberryland​ @onetwo123three @sxftiebee​ @bbrrose​ @gretel-gravain​ @slasherflickchick​ @floraroselaughter​ @kikis-art​ @21yumna​ @lifegosoana @sob4​ @unknown-204 @dathoe @dellalyra​ @noot-noot-noooooooot @goldenglow149​ @sukunabitch​ @guccirosegold​ @aesthetic-faye @kakeruko14 @roseki​ @levisbadbitch​ @divxnee​ @dvmekarina​
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🩰, haymitch’s daughter!reader x Finnick O’Dair
My 800 follower celebration is still going on through March 1st!
Finnick Odair x Abernathy!Reader
Summary: You attend a Capitol party!
Genre: 99% fluff
Warnings/Tags: Finnick Odair x reader (romantically), established relationship, Abernathy!reader, female!reader, Haymitch Abernathy x Reader (Platonic), sweetness, a few kisses, nothing super explicit, a few curse words, mention of prostitution, finnicks work, few sentences about THG
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Finnick finally found you in the crowd of crazily dressed capitol assholes. The party was begining to get extremely suffocating and he needed to find you.
"Hello darling," he whispered in your ear before sneaking off with you to a bare corner. His eyes quickly dart around the room looking for an escape.
"Left," you whisper and he sees the door you were referring to. God, these stupid parties got old very fast. Especially after years of them.
Finnick grabs your hand and carefully navigates the way to the door, without getting caught up in any unruly conversations.
You both reach the door way and sneak into the hallway. You rest your head against the nearest wall and finnick wraps his arm around you. He presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his forehead against yours.
You both sit in silence, listening to the others breathing and heartbeat, for what fells like eternity. He finally pulls away and you place a quick kiss to his lips.
He smiles before giving you a proper kiss. His lips crash onto yours, the excitement of sneaking away from the party combined with the wine you had oth been sipping, makes every sloppy move feel eletric.
His lips move in sync with yours as his tongue begins to find it's way into your mouth. He finally breaks the kiss and you lean back.
"And then we get to do all of these again tomorrow night," finnick complains. These parties did suck. I mean, who wants to hang out with rich dickheads that think prostituting teenagers is acceptable?
The answer is no in their right mind.
"Hey, don't worry. It will all be over soon," you remind him. Sure, the parties were held almost every few days, but there was a small loophole.
You and finnick were both victors. The 74th Hunger Games would be starting soon. You would be training district twelve, and he would be training district four.
In a few weeks the both of you would have very few parties to attend. The only downside was, well, everything you would be doing.
Training kids for their certain death was hard. If you weren't being forced to prance around and sleep with every rich asshole who had the money, you were helping aid the Capitol in murdering innocent children. It was great.
"At least we will be together a little bit," finnick says with a smile before kissing you again. When everything was wrong, finnick could count on you to make it all right.
His lips moved in syc with yours. The buzz of the alcohol and the adrenaline from kissing him made you forget everything. His tongu-
"I don't like seeing your tongue down my daughter's throat," Your dad says, clearing his throat. Finnick jumps at the man's voice and moves a few steps away.
"Much better," Your dad says before drunkenly stumbling off. He had coping mechanisms all right. There was a reason you helped train the kids. Your dad hates that you had to participate.
"Let's go suffocate," Finnick jokes as he grabs your hand and leads you back into the party. Everything was wrong, but a few right things could make you forget it.
Even if it's just for a few minutes.
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Requests are open! Reblogs and feedback are always enjoyed!
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boobearymuch · 7 months
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His Ghost on Film
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Summary: Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. Tags: Leon S. Kennedy/gn!reader, older!leon kennedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcoholism Word Count: 1.5k Read on AO3
Notes: finally writing bc I'm sick and sniffly and gross !!1 hoping to get more writing out soon, I have so many ideas sitting in my docs 😭
The photos spilled out on their own, you swear. It’s not like you made it a habit of sifting through Leon’s personal belongings anyway – you respected him too much for that – so this small transgression would surely be forgiven. However, nagging curiosity kept you from returning them right away. Tucked away in the back of a sock drawer, the photos came tumbling out when you put laundry away and fell to the floor in a scattered flurry. You quickly lowered yourself to scoop up the unruly pictures, but a dazzling smile stopped you in your tracks. It was Leon’s smile. 
He posed alone, raising a hand to salute cheerfully at the camera while the other rested on his hip. The uniform he donned suggested the photo took place back when he trained as a police recruit, not for the DSO. Leon never talked much about his past, so it felt odd to see remnants of his life before you knew him as one of the government’s top agents. Before he ever faced off, again and again, with the world’s most dangerous minds and their monsters. You’re in awe of the younger Leon in your hands, and you quickly pick up another photo in hopes of seeing more. 
There are other recruits in this photo, each of them laughing and smiling like they were sharing a drink at a bar and not caked in sweat and dirt. Leon is laughing just as hard, clutching his stomach with a muddy hand. You can’t believe how young and carefree he used to look; the agent’s demeanor is a lot more serious now, hardened from years in the field. It’s difficult to imagine this version of Leon angry or upset, or a scowl ever gracing those pink lips. As you thumbed the photo, you admired the fullness of his cheeks, the haunted look in his eyes missing. In fact, they even seemed to sparkle.
“Having fun?” Leon’s rough voice is a murmur over your shoulder, and you start at the sound. The baritone in his words is rough with sleep from his nap, something you banked on lasting at least another hour or so. Leon’s hands settle over your shoulders, rubbing down your arms as he too kneels to the floor to peer at your hands. Heat rushes to your face instantly. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” Your tone is truly apologetic, but Leon doesn’t say a word as he reaches forward to thumb the film of him smiling in your hands. His lips are stretched impossibly wide, teeth visible, and eyes squinted in what appears to be a moment of pure joy. You can’t remember a time he smiled that big. He analyzes it quietly, perhaps remembering something. “When was this taken?” You ask softly.
“1998.” He replies, and suddenly regret consumes you. Perhaps he felt you tense up because his hand promptly smoothes over the curve of your back. “This was early spring, I think. Can’t remember what was so funny.”
“You’re adorable.” You can’t help but say. You could practically feel Leon roll his eyes. 
“I suppose it’s better than the alternative.” He mumbles.
Feeling slightly better about getting caught, you pick up another photo. This one is of him squinting in the sun, t-shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal pale shoulders. “Your farmer’s tan…!” You say it with the utmost adoration for the discovery, but Leon only groans.
“Hmph.” Leon’s snort of disapproval only eggs you on.
“Was this the same year?”
“No,” He responds, “That was 2002.” There’s a beat before he hesitantly adds, “This was South America.” The apprehension he says it with tells you everything you need to know about the photo. It’s not a good memory either. You hum in acknowledgment and gently pick up another picture. 
“Oh my god? Is that the president?”
“And his daughter Ashley.” Leon adds casually, as if he hasn’t been keeping the most insane piece of information about himself from you. 
“How…How do you know the president and his daughter?” You’re ogling at the photo, but once you’re over the shock, you can’t help but appreciate how sharp Leon is dressed for this picture. Hell, his hair is even gelled back. You’ve never seen him do that to his hair for anything, not even the fancy banquets the DSO makes him attend. You whistle jokingly at the photo of him. “But more importantly, who is that fine gentleman on the right?”
This makes him scoff out a laugh, flustered by your antics. “I…did the president a favor. Let’s leave it at that.” His reluctance to reveal more sobered you a little. Now you looked too closely at the photo, at the way fists clenched at his sides, the heavy furrow of his brow, those tired, dull eyes. This couldn’t possibly be the same Leon from before, the one laughing in mud. “I hear Ashley is a researcher now.” He remarks kindly, “Hope she’s doing well.”
You only nod, unsure what else to say. Leon picks up the last photo on the ground and flips it over to reveal a fairly recent image. “DSO?” You question, and he hums an affirmative. You recognize the people in the photo as Leon’s coworkers and friends. There hasn’t been much opportunity to get to know each other well, but Chris and Claire do come around every once in a while. Leon wears a suit – jacket discarded to hang over his shoulder – but gives the camera a tight smile. The others in the photo are dressed just as nice, their smiles just as forced. 
“Our first banquet. Mandatory banquet.” He emphasizes with a chuckle. His hand then gives your arm a light squeeze. “This was just before I met you. We were practically running on fumes. I had just flown in from Europe, if you couldn’t tell by the dark circles.” You huff lightheartedly at the comment, but your eyes linger on his false smile. “Hell, I think Chris and Jill had just arrived from Central America too. Needless to say, it wasn’t terribly fun.” 
There’s a beat before Leon finally collects the pictures from you and stands before offering a hand to help you up. He didn’t talk much about his past, so you knew if the opportunity slipped by you now, you’d never muster the bravery to ask again. “Leon,” You say, grabbing his attention as he gently tucks the photos away in the drawer face down. 
“Hm?”
“Why do you keep them?” You ask softly, and he tilts his head at you. “I mean, they seem sad in a way. I know you don’t talk about these things much for a reason, so…why keep the reminders?”
The silence only lasts a few seconds, but it feels like it stretches for minutes. He seems to consider your question seriously though, taking the moment to tap on the closed drawer before exhaling through his nose. “In this line of work, we all have things we’d rather leave in the past.” His gaze remains low, eyes watching his blunt nails pick at the wood of the dresser. “And there was once a time I was so desperate to forget, I nearly…it just got too much.” His sobriety was not new information. You learned about it early on in your relationship, wanting to support him any way you could. But it seems there is more to the story than you originally conceived. “As much as I wanted to forget, I couldn’t. It took a while but I realized…if we don’t remember, then who will?” His palm now lays flat against the drawer, as if he could feel the magnitude of the photos that lay within. “I…owe it to everyone in Raccoon City.” 
Now, you understand. You understand why he doesn’t talk about his missions or his early days in the field. When he’s on the job, it’s all he does. Remember. And you can’t help but admire him all the more for it. The work is demanding – it takes much more than it gives – but Leon’s made peace with it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” His tone is self-conscious suddenly, and he’s trying to mask it with a teasing lilt to his words. 
“I don’t know.” You tease gently, “I think I’m in love with you. Just a bit.”
The corners of Leon’s mouth lift up into a boyish smile, and suddenly it’s like you’re staring into the same, sparkling eyes of that rookie police officer back in 1998. The Leon in the photographs never left, you think. He’s here, scarred and bruised, but grinning like it’s your first date. “Oh, really?” Leon mumbles as he pulls you into his warm chest to rest a pair of soft lips against your forehead, “That’s unlucky.” You pinch his hip playfully. “Ow.” His laugh is a rush of warm air against your skin, and he quickly soothes your anger with another kiss to your head. “I think I love you too. Maybe.”
You hide your smile in his broad chest. “You’re so annoying.”
Leon practically burns with adoration. “Only around you, sweetheart.”
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sunnyhvnny · 1 year
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I’m posting this request on this blog to see if it shows up in the tags because everything I’ve been posting on @sunnytarg hasn’t been appearing in the tags.
Jacaerys Velaryon
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When the war broke out and Jace was sent to Winterfell by his mother to draw the Stark’s support to their side, he wasn’t expecting to fall in love with Cregan Stark’s younger sister.
He had gone to Winterfell on business alone and was more than aware that he was betrothed but it had all seemed irrelevant when he met the younger Stark. He had only been in the freezing castle of Winterfell for two days before an affair started. When it was time for him to leave, he begged his lover to come with him and be his bride. She had only smiled at him sadly and gave him one last kiss before she declined and wished him fair well.
It was the last time that he saw her. After they had won the war, and his mother sat on the throne, he received no news of Cregan Stark’s sister. Eventually, he let go of his foolish dream of being with the northern woman and marrying his betrothed. His marriage to Baela was a union filled with respect and love that grew over time. He was grateful to be married to such a woman and eventually found that he didn’t think about his lost love as much as he once did.
That was, of course, until his mother announced that Cregan Stark and his family would be coming to King’s Landing to celebrate the five years of peace after the war. Jace’s mind had not calmed until he was standing outside of the Red Keep, alongside his mother, to greet his old friend. He watched as several carriages rolled along. Cregan emerged from the first one, holding out a hand for his Lady wife to step out. After her foot hit the ground, several of the children that must have been Cregan’s started to pile out of the carriage. The youngest looking to be no more than two years. He greeted his friend and his wife, as well as their children when the second carriage finally stopped.
This time a large, burly man stepped out of the carriage and held his hand out the same way Cregan had done for his wife. Jace took in everything about the other man and when he saw a crest with a bear on his chest, he knew this was Lord Mormont. Before he could question why Lord Mormont was here when his mother specifically said that it was the Starks that was coming, a woman that he hadn’t seen in years stepped out of the carriage. She was still as beautiful as when he met her only this time, she cradled her swollen stomach as she helped her two sons out of the carriage. Jace swallowed his disappointment, hoping that she had remained unwed. He smiled and politely greeted Lord Mormont. When, the now, Lady Mormont appeared before him with her sons he knew his smile turned softer and the way he took her hand and kissed it was much too familiar. She smiled politely back but turned away at the soonest possible second. Knowing he’d be unable to demand her attention as they all entered the castle, he looked at her sons. Both with unruly hair and giant smiles. They looked close to the same age but he could tell that the one with the slightly more puggish nose was older, perhaps five years of age.
As the days pass, he barely sees the woman who his mind rarely strays from. He chats with Cregan and plays with his friend’s children. He gets to know Lord Mormont and can’t tell if it’s better or worse that he seems to be a good man. It’s only at the feast and when he goes to the training yard that he sees Lady Mormont. She watches her sons play with wooden swords and swat at passing Queens Guards with a soft smile. When her eldest manages to trip one up she chuckles and Jace decides to leave her in peace, knowing he’d only ruin the moment for her.
The day before they are meant to leave is the day that she finally speaks to him. Well, it’s not so much as to him but as to everyone that is standing around. She had run into the throne room frantically telling everyone how she couldn’t find her eldest. How she had planned on putting them to sleep but only found her youngest. She had searched everywhere she could think of before she decided he was missing and thought it best to inform her family and the Queen.
No one wasted any time trying to find the young boy. Jace found himself outside, looking in the small hiding places in the training yard he used to hide in when he was a child. When that wielded no results his eyes snagged on the dragon pit and his heart sank. What little boy wouldn’t want to see dragons before he left? He remembered the boy chattering on at the feast about how he made his mother read almost every book on dragons that they had to him.
Jace had never moved so quickly before and found himself at the dragon pit in record time. He couldn’t find any of the dragon handlers but he refused to turn away in case the young boy was down by the dragons. He called his name and got no response.
With dread creeping up his throat, he made his way further into the caverns where the dragons resided. He Vermax and gave him a pat on the snout before continuing further. He stopped when he finally saw the young boy. Jace said a quick thank you to all of the gods that he could think of when he saw that he was alive and standing and not a pile of ashes on the ground. He strode over to him quickly but stopped short when he saw him climb atop a young dragon named Valaxon. She was approximately the size of a fully grown horse but Jace had seen her with the other dragons and with the handlers. She was a rough dragon, which came as no surprise because she came from a clutch of Moondancer’s eggs.
When he saw that the young dragon wasn’t planning on eating the northern boy, Jace stopped and stared. The dragon practically preened under the boy's attention and for the first time since the Starks and Mormonts arrived, Jace truly took in the boy. He remembered thinking how he must have been no more than five years of age, at first he brushed that little thought off and thought that his old love had moved on from him quickly after he left. His age and the fact that he clearly bonded with a dragon were proof enough for Jace now. He tried not to let the boy see the tears in his eyes as he approached him. He couldn’t very well explain to a child that his mother must have known that she was with child when he left and chose not to tell him of the life that they had created.
He tried not to think of the years he missed with his child and his old lover when the boy beamed at him from atop a dragon.
Aegon II Targaryen
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When it was announced that The Lady of House Wylde would be joining her husband in King’s Landing after they had won the war, Aegon had thought little of it. He knew only a little of Master of Laws personal life. He knew that he had four wives at some point and that one remained. He also was aware that he had sided over twenty children with said wives. He had no idea how many he had with the current Lady of House Wylde but he hoped it wasn’t many. He didn’t want several children running about the Red Keep.
The Lady and five young children arrive a few days later. As the King, he goes to greet his Master of Laws wife and the Lady of House Wylde when her carriage stops. After her children pile out of the carriage, she finally steps out. Aegon is taken aback by the noblewoman. She’s stunning, much too beautiful for Jasper Wylde. When he goes to greet him, she curtsies before him and he notices her red cheeks when she raises her head. Only when he meets her eyes does he remember his small tour of the Stormlands as a prince and his dalliance with the Lady of the Rain House. She was young, as was he, and already married to Lord Wylde with a son and daughter. Every night he had been there, they snuck away and enjoyed each other.
When it was time to move on with the tour and away from House Wylde, he hadn’t thought about his brief dalliance afterward. After all, he had slept with many women. Whores and noblewomen alike and on his tour of the realm she most certainly was not the only Lady he had fucked.
The trance she is in, and the stare she had focused on the king was broken when her children broke into a little scuffle over who was to greet the king first. She mumbled her apologies as her husband lined up his children and introduced them to him in order of age. Aegon fleetingly remembered the eldest two, but they had grown so much in the few short years that he had difficulty placing their names without help. The third was born sometime after he had visited them and his Master of Laws said that it only seemed right to name his third child and second son after the future king. Little Aegon could barely meet his eyes as he bowed and mumbled a greeting. Unlike the other children who took heavily after their father, he resembled his mother.
When the greetings were over, Lord Wylde had told Aegon that he would see his wife and children to their chambers and then he would meet him at the small council. Aegon had nodded noncommittally as he watched the Wylde brood walk off, his eyes lingering on the Lady and the third child. The timing lined up well enough, but if that child was his, he had no clue. There was no resemblance and the Lady had given no indication that he was his. Aegon supposed it didn’t matter much, he had many bastards wandering throughout the city and most likely the Realm. If he was honest, many of the children that ran about the Red Keep could possibly be his bastards so he saw no reason why he would think anything of this Wylde child potentially being another.
The presence of Lady Wylde and her children hadn’t made much of a wave throughout the Red Keep. She had befriended many Ladies of the Court, and his sister-wife, Helaena had taken to the Lady quickly; they were inseparable as were their children. Her two eldest children quickly became friends with his daughter and were often seen running about together. The three youngest were always with their mother, who in turn tended to be with Helaena and his youngest son, Maelor. Aegon had tried not to let his gaze linger on the beautiful Lady. It wouldn’t do well to fuck the Master of Laws wife, but the more she was around the more he remembered their brief dalliance. He remembered fucking her roughly in dark hallways and covering her mouth to hide her gorgeous moans. At night, he let his mind wander to those nights they shared and he often found himself fisting his cock at the remembrance of her wet cunt and the way it squeezed him.
His mother’s words had painted a certain picture so when he finally entered the nursery to see Helaena, Lady Wylde, a crying Maelor and Lady Wylde’s third child, little Aegon as Lord Wylde called him, holding a vividly green dragon hatchling with the cracked egg on the ground, he was surprised, to say the least. Aegon realized what happened immediately. The egg that was placed in little Maelor’s crib in hopes that the dragon inside would bond with him had finally hatched and instead bonded with Lady Wylde’s son. It doesn’t take long for Aegon to come to the conclusion that the children must truly be his because without Targaryen blood the child never would have been able to bond with a dragon.
His sudden laughter filled the room and startled everyone. Of all his bastards, never had one claimed a dragon. He looked over at his ex-mistress and saw the horrified look on her face at what this all meant. Perhaps she had only the smallest inkling that her child could have been his, after all the little boy didn’t resemble him in any way. This news would spread fast and her husband would be bound to find out sooner rather than later. He clamped his hand on the small boy's shoulder and congratulated him, the boy only nodded as the small dragon climbed up his arm and settled on his other shoulder, chirping happily. Aegon looked over at Lady Wylde and smiled charmingly before saying, “I’ll talk to your husband. There is no need to worry.”
The Lady visibly swallowed and whispered a thank you before Aegon led the smaller Aegon out of the room, intending to bring him to the dragon pit. It wouldn’t be hard to convince Lord Wylde to let the little boy stay in King’s Landing after this. Perhaps he could sway him into letting the Lady remain with her son. His sly smile overcame his face at the thought of resuming his affair with the woman as their child learned about bonding with a dragon.
Aemond Targaryen
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Aemond knew that when he took Harrenhal it was his right to take any of the women to his bed as a prize. Truthfully, he had considered it but then his eyes landed on her. While some of the women looked at him with disgust or fear for taking their home, she looked at him with her nose turned upward and a hard look in her eyes that drew him towards her. What he had with her for those few weeks probably wouldn’t have been considered an affair. He spent his meals with her and found time every day to talk or walk with her and despite the fact that he aches for her, he didn’t take her to his bed until a week before he left to go back to King’s Landing.
He hadn’t forgotten her in the years that passed. When he married the youngest Baratheon daughter for an alliance, he thought of the woman at Harrenhal. When he bedded his new wife, he pictured another woman beneath him and the way she moaned as he had taken her. How she wrapped her legs around his waist and how she stroked his scar. His wife hadn’t done any of that. She lay underneath him and refused to look at him. He saw the same slight disgust in her eyes when it came to his scar. She didn’t cling to him and he fucked her and when he spilled inside of her she hadn’t whispered how she hoped his seed would take root in her womb, but instead rolled off the bed and pulled on her nightgown and left.
As the years passed, Aemond got used to his loveless marriage. His wife had never grown to love him and he never grew to love her but he loved the children that his loveless marriage wielded. He spent the most time with them, their mother often found herself spending time with the women in court or going to her place of birth. She barely glanced at her silver-haired children after they were old enough to be away from her.
In the quiet moments in his life, he often found his mind wandering to Harrenhal and the woman he had grown to love within those walls. He missed how he could laugh freely with her and how she looked at him, truly looked at him, and didn’t see the prince who rode the largest dragon or the scarred and disfigured kinslayer but only saw him, Aemond Targaryen. He would often get hard at the thought of her in their last moments together. Most of the time he would close his eyes and fist his cock and imagine it was her that was doing it but there were times that it wasn’t enough, and those were the nights that he found his wife in her chambers. They didn’t speak as he rutted into her and he wondered if she thought of someone else as he did. Usually, these moments would result in a babe down the line. He currently had seven children from his Baratheon wife. His eldest was seven years of age, born just before the war ended. He was a quiet boy who preferred the company of his dragon. His second eldest was a little girl, only a year younger than her brother, she was always in the dirt looking for insects for her beloved aunt.
He was lost in his thoughts about his children when his brother made a small announcement. His wife nudged his side and he blinked back to reality and looked at his brother, his king (he thought with disgust if it wasn’t for him that crown wouldn’t be on his head), as he told the few family members at the table that new knights were being brought to the Red Keep to join the Kingsguard. Aemond made no acknowledgment until his daughter of five years tugged on his arm excitedly and began talking nonstop about what her elder sister told her about knights. He listened, his entire attention on her, as his wife conversed with his mother.
Aemond went with his mother and princess Jaehaera to examine the potential knights for the Kingsguard. When it was one man’s turn, Aemond looked him over intensely. He could have sworn that he had heard the House that he belonged to before but he couldn’t place it. He also looked familiar but Aemond was sure that he had never met the man before in his life. Eventually, he was one of the knights chosen to join the Kingsguard and on top of that, he was sworn to his sister, Queen Helaena.
As he strode down the corridors of the Red Keep, planning on going to his chambers, he saw his daughter running at full speed. He thought that she was running to him and he opened his arms wide for her to jump into but instead she ducked under him and crashed into a girl he had never seen. The young girls were giggling on the floor when a woman came around the corner, the other girl's mother probably. It wasn’t until the children were standing up that she turned her gaze to Aemond. He felt frozen to the spot when their eyes met. It was her. The woman from all those years ago. The woman who proved he could be loved. She smiled fondly at him and without saying a word she turned and the two girls followed after her.
When he was back in his chambers he let his mind wander to her and the little girl that must have been hers. The child looked so much like her and she looked at the child so fondly that no one would miss the maternal nature of it. The little girl was probably a little older than his eldest and was clearly friends with his eldest daughter.
It clicked then. The knight from earlier must have been her brother. He remembered her talking about a brother who was off fighting for the greens during the war and had aspirations of becoming a knight. Perhaps she was visiting him in the capital.
He decided he would find out the next day. He would invite her to tea with him in the gardens and ‘catch up’. He wanted to ask why she never sent word after he left, he wanted to ask about her daughter and if she had a husband. He wanted to know everything about her.
The next day, he joined his mother and sister for tea in the gardens. They always asked him to join and he rarely took them up on the offer but today she was with them and he had no idea how he could say no. She smiled at him as he sat with them and rarely took her eyes off of him as the time passed. He asked her about her daughter, who he learned was only a little older than his eldest son. He asked about her husband. The question made her pause and look down into her cup. Her smile dropped slowly as she said he was a good man and provided for their little family. After that he questioned her no more on her family.
Instead, he mentioned how it seemed that his children, Jaehaera, and her daughter seemed as thick as thieves. All the women giggled at that and it was Helaena who told him that the girls went to the dragon pit. They were insistent on showing their new friend their dragons. As if the girls heard their parents talking about them, several dragons appeared in the sky. He saw Morghul, Xurmag, and Dallas in the sky. Clearly being ridden by the young princess but following them was a bigger dragon. He squinted up and saw that it was Silverwing, who was unclaimed since the war. When the dragons descended in front of the adults, the girls scrambled off with shrieks of laughter.
When Silverwing landed it was the daughter of his ex love that climb off. She looked frazzled but excited. He felt his mothers and sisters gaze on him as he watched the young girl walk over to her mother. He finally looked up at the woman who was already staring at him. The truth didn’t need to be spoken aloud. They all knew it. Perhaps, though, with this new information he could persuade her to stay in King’s Landing, or better, he could take his children and their dragons and they could go to Harrenhal. Where it all started.
Daemon Targaryen
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Many of the dragon riders thought little of the dragon handlers. Daemon, while he looked down upon many, he didn’t look down on the man who took care of his beloved dragon. No one else was suited for the job but this specific dragon handler so he became close with him and his family. Meeting his wife and two children. His son had already married some commoner and was training to be a dragon handler himself when Daemon first came around.
His daughter on the other hand was a different matter entirely. She was gorgeous and fierce, and if Daemon hadn’t met her parents already he would have thought she was born from a dragon. It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall together. The first time he had taken her had been in the cavern in which Caraxes was held. Her father had been away and their desire for each other had reached a boiling point. Quickly he turned her around and shoved her against the wall and slipped his cock inside of her. Neither cared that a dragon was only a few feet away, all they cared about was each other at that moment.
Their brief tryst had stopped abruptly when his brother exiled him after the death of the Queen and his son. He should have seen it coming, truthfully, but it still hurt all the same. He had tried to convince his lover to come with him into exile but she refused to leave her father behind. Daemon had been close to just tossing her onto Caraxes and flying off but he couldn’t drag her down with him, so he left without saying goodbye.
When he returned from the Step Stones four years later he had hoped to see her again but he hadn’t. For the brief time he was at the dragon pit he had asked after her and all the information he received was that she married a kind and strong man whilst he was away. Daemon refused to let jealousy fester inside of him as he took off again. This time to Pentos.
Several years had passed since he had last seen her. Enough time for him to not think about her and at times forget about her. They had good times, he wasn’t denying that, but they had both married since then, and in his case, he’d been widowed twice and remarried again. When he finally came back to King’s Landing, it had been close to fourteen years since he last saw her. He tried to act nonchalant as he slid off of his dragon and let her father and several other dragon handlers deal with Caraxes.
He watches the dragon handlers for a moment before he decides to go and talk with his old lover. Still as beautiful as the day he had met her, he think with a smile. As he takes a step towards her, though, he hears a shout from what sounds like a little girl. He’s ready to ignore it but she snaps her head in the direction of the dragon pit with worry in her eyes. It’s not until she hears giggling that her face relaxes.
Daemon finally makes his way over to her. She stiffens at his close proximity but doesn’t move away. He hadn’t thought about what he wanted to say to her, he only knew he wanted to be close to her one last time. Finally, he asks who the screaming had come from and reluctantly she told him it was her daughter. When she came to visit her father at the dragon pit, her daughter often liked to join them.
“Isn’t that rather dangerous,” Daemon mussed as Caraxes was finally corralled into the pit. When he looked back at his ex-lover he waited for a reply but only found a sly smirk on her face instead.
Only a few moments after he had asked his question, a girl barely a teenager came out of the entrance of the pit on the back of a blood-red dragon. It wasn’t fully grown but it definitely wasn’t a baby. She rode it like a horse as she waved down at her mother. From the looks of it, it wasn’t her first time being atop this dragon.
Daemon watched in awe as his old lover's daughter took flight on a dragon. He supposed that he could have left her with child before he left but other than the brief fleeting thought, he hadn’t thought much of it. Now, though, seeing what clearly must have been his daughter soaring through the skies on a dragon that resembled Meleys, he couldn’t deny that not only did he have a daughter with his old lover, but a dragon rider as well.
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thepeonysbackup · 1 month
Text
Somethin' Stupid
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Pairings: Husker x Fem!Sinner!Reader
Summary: You're the night shift, apparently the only shift for Husker that he cares for, even if you both sold your souls, you somehow warm his up.
Tags: MDNI, explicit language, explicit gore, assault (by others not Husker), vulgar topics, flashbacks, a musical number, fluff!!
Song name: Something Stupid ♬♬♬
Request: Yes/No
Word count: 5.6k
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As the hotel came to its quiet stillness for the night, you emerged from your room, in your usual attire. Being a night worker, a creature of the darkness in your boss's words, one of the housekeepers as most would say during the day, it was a perfect time to get your work done, finding joy in bringing a building to a pristine shine in the crimson moonlight. However, one thing you never left your room without was your headphones. Having the easiest job in the hotel, it was annoying to listen to the aimless silence. So to tune that away, you'd engulf yourself in the wonders of music, being lucky enough on your first day of hell to get your hands on an old ipod filled to the brim with old songs from Earth instead of the vulgar profane ones from there in hell.
To you, without music in the world, it seemed void of all happiness. You listened to all kinds, Rap, Rock, Classical, Retro, Swing, Polka, Pop, Jazz, and so many others. But right now, you had seemed to be on a rather wholesome and sweet song kick. Finding an unspoken joy with the way the guitar would play with the violinists hunkering down with great precision to add the melody and bring you back to the softness of the tambourine. Though, most down here would find Sinatra to be too heavy with the sheer affection in his tone, the love that he felt for his family, his daughter, his life, his world.. It was comforting in the realm of depravity and anguish.
As your dainty hands pushed down your uniform, straightening the fabric of your skirt and apron as you neared a closet on the lobby floor containing many different types of cleaning supplies. You grabbed the mop and mop bucket, a bottle of Fizz-uloso, and a few rags from the greed ring that you tucked away into your apron for safe keeping before venturing to the bathroom to situate yourself and your products. You thoughtlessly yet automatically began to get your things together, flipping through your shuffled playlists in search of a song that would start off your night just right.
You settled on Frankie Valli, giggling as you exited the bathroom with your things in either hand, having tucked away your phone into your pocket as soon as the beat had started up. Even though you were in good spirits, a certain bartender was not in the best of moods, but who could have blamed the poor man? He was being forced to work off his debt by playing nice guy at a shitty hotel he had no desire to be at. The two of you had many big interactions as well as the common clumsy moments from you that he saved you from. Husker sat on his stool, opposite side to the lobby while waiting late for customers to wander in, clipboard on the bartop 'incase' some poor soul wanted to redeem themselves for some unruly reason, seven had for boarding up for the night. He doubted some fucked up Crackhead had any intention of becoming a better person, or a murderer for that matter. But he did secretly have hopes for the princess of hells bleeding heart, her kind nature was foreign to hell, the people down here truly not deserving of her hard work whatsoever.
The cat demons ears twitched, flexing while they rotated lightly to the sound of footsteps, initially believing they were from outside but finding comfort that it wasn't some random creature and merely the night crew like himself. He'd always been fond of seeing you around, especially when he'd be doing work for the radio demon, though you never spoke much and always seemed to be ignoring the world unless needed, he considered you good company for the fact you kept to yourself. He'd gotten to see your vulnerable side, when he'd try to think of anything about you the amount of memories that flooded in were almost overwhelming enough to make him drop the glasses hed be cleaning, for you never wanted a drink, nor would you partake in any activities during the day time, he knew that strawberries were something you detested, and the thought of building a garden had always crossed your mind when talking with Nifty. He'd only see you in the night, a translucent pale sinneress, a ghostly creature with only a singular repetitive mission everyday. Now, he'd greet you once or twice if you'd get close enough, always nodding acknowledgably, or perhaps asking how your night was by saying you looked tired due to how much you really slept, but you'd never respond because of that other world you'd submerge yourself in, in your mind. At first he considered it rudeness, or a smug attitude, but it really wasn't when he'd find you suddenly engulfed in a conversation with Sir Pentious or Niff, even if shes a creepy little thing, it seemed you were a rather patient and caring thing despite being down here. Apart from ignoring everything you were probably as nice if not 'nicer' then the princess herself, so gentle and sweet, traits that attracted the fucked up and deprived creeps to the bar so often. You never noticed them, the regulars that would check into the hotel for a few hours just to drink some good brain damage and gawk at you until they made a slip up that he'd have to correct and reprimand. There were many times unbeknownst to you that these lowly creatures would come in and talk about a beautiful demoness that worked here that they'd follow or seen and got some info about, loan sharks often slinking in claiming to have business just cause of your appearance and sweetness, and just as you'd come around the corner they'd make their moves. A cat caller was there the first night Alastor had ordered you to work, a short demon with a sizeable amount of power, though not enough to gain your attention when he'd speak. He had called out to you, calling you a curvy piece of ass as you had bent down to wring out your mophead after just dusting and wiping the pillars to a bleached white shine, your thigh guard peeked from below your skirt just barely. But what really set him off was when he called you over after your blissfully unaware form began to receed to the bathrooms to refill your bucket, he was only a few feet away from the bathroom door when Husk had him pinned onto the floor with a growl of annoyance and disgust. That customer was thrown out after a good thirty seconds of threats and a single slugger to the jaw. You had exited the bathroom with new water just to see some blood on the ground that you'd have to clean up, but thankfully you hadn't seen how it was made and that was good enough for Husk at the time until he learned of your many experiences watching the Radio demon at work.
The one after that was a taller, regal yet idiotic looking demon with a face resembling a mime but could still communicate verbally without the movement of its mouth. Illusion was his trick, appearing near the bar as he actually inched closer to you as you were on a small step ladder, a single leg popped out into the air as you leaned forward to reach the top of a shelf near the bar where Husk was cleaning at the counter. Mischievously the demon snapped one of the legs of the stool to get a rather risqué view of your underwear, your body went tumbling over to the side with a yelp as you tried to grab at the shelf for balance which resulted in bottles to fall aling with you. The warm embrace of fur and a soft grunt made your eyes pry open, finding yourself in the clutches of Husks claws.. They were digging into your plushy legs and the other at your ticklish side, much to the mimes anger at the time. You had given him a supressed noise of automatic laughter while wiggling in his hands to push at his chest, much to his amusement you began to giggle as he tried to put you down, claiming he was doing it on purpose due to his grip tightening at your hand which was gripping onto his tie for support. The mimes face shifted to one that had stared a silent scream at the two of you, a howl leaving it as it made an attempt to knock over the over liquor bottles that were on the wall before vanishing out the main entrance of the hotel with a high pitched screech.
The Demon that had actually had you in his clutches and out of the building was probably the second to last of them that had been hanging around. He was a loan shark, one of those, you owe me one kinda guys that took it to the extremes. With his fedora the guy sauntered in, directly to you, practically dragging you half way out of the hotel with you only blinking in inquiry as you followed behind, innocently watching his lips move but to no avail to you due to your earphones. You had seen Husk worked up but not to this extent at that time, and he had never been so surprised with himself. At that moment he had seen only a filter of red over his gaze, eyes blazing with hatred as he loomed over you and the male demon who turned with a shriek before pulling out a gun to aim at the Cat. Husks cards took easy care to destroy his opponents weapon, pouncing with wings spread full length before he tore the Loan sharks throat clean out of his neck with his fangs and slashed a gash the size of his tail through his body. By that time, all of you were outside, but his friends had been waiting for him so the commotion was seen by them and their gunfire retaliated at Husk. In the end, they were in a heaping mess scattered around. Charlie had walked out the next morning to dead bodies and flipped out on Alastor, who took the fall with grace and little care.
The last one, had made you the most uncomfortable out of the ones you'd remembered, or that Husk had seen you truly scared. He wouldnt have blamed you for it either.. You were such a fragile beauty in the dark pit that hell was. The guy was bulky, ripped to say the least and apparently blessed below the belt because even through your earbuds you could hear his disgusting advances for you and you'd turned off your music to politely decline him and shift over near the bar entrance to keep good distance, but because of how Featherlite you were, even with your curvaceous appearance you were easily tugged over to him by his big arms. "Come on, sweetie, don'tcha want a nice guy like me keepin' the creeps away?" You had never shaken your head so fast, your little body tugging away feverishly. He tried harder, noting how the both of you were alone for that moment, and that had urked you blindly to grip at the bar countertop to rip yourself from his grasp, he didnt like it. "Quit strugglin before I break something toots-" Because of the grip, he'd taken your hand with him, the flesh and bone ripping enough to invoke a groan from the injury and your voice to go from its usual sweet and kind to a fearful and desperate scream of agony. “HUSK!!!” It wouldn't have been the first time your body had been ripped up, but it always, always hurt like no other feeling. The burning sensation of your phantom limb no longer being in place made you tremble, legs shaking as the larger demon barked an insult to your frailness, "Fucking pathetic-"
Husk hadn't ran for someone in years, but your voice being so distraught and desperate made his instincts kick into overdrive and his drunken mind go sober instantly as he rounded the corner from the bathrooms to see you behind the counter backed into the bottles, “Sir, you can't be back here-” The tears that were streaming nervously down your face nearly stopped at seeing him, “Whiskers, there you are!!” eyes widening joyously before realizing that you were still pinned and reverting back to your scared expression, the water works upping yet again as the demon snagged your torn wrist to worsen your pain with a powerful tug forward. And that did it, his wings expanding to full mast as his body grew larger, and he entered his demonic form to the extent that his contract would allow, roaring loudly as he destroyed the bar area of the new hotel, its sleek new design now crumbled to piles of concrete, wood, and various liquids as well as blood. The disgusting pervert crawled out of the rubble somewhat fine, a hurt arm being held by his better one as he turned to stare into the demonic face of the bartender as you popped out from beneath the four legged man above you.
It was gruesome for you, but an eternity for Husker as he completely ruined that monster, pulling entrails out and body parts off with force so strong that it had made you nearly gag at the noises and mere sight of this unrecognizablesize of the bar cat youd came to liking so much. But you had to end it, even if you believed the bastard deserved it. To be, be torn from each joint, ripped from the bone to the soul that he had managed to keep from most over lords. Husks claws scratched and dug, his fangs tearing at his skull and piercing through the socket with that satisfying crunch. Covering yourself in blood as you tackled Husk off the unfortunate little bitch to try to calm him down as his mouth oozed blood and eyes burned with rage, you clung around his thick neck, burying your face in his chest fur while pleading loudly over his howls of rage. He only really stopped seething when you started crying for real, sobbing into his shoulder hard as you held your injured arm against his chest. He had remembered how it felt like a lasso had been wrapped around his mind to be pulled back onto the brink of sanity he had always been at. He shrunk down back to his normal form, wrapping his arm around you as he fell to the blood covered ground to catch his breath with you safely in his hold as footsteps echoed in the creaking silence. Charlie had screamed in horror at the bloodbath spreads across her new walls and began to cry into Vaggies shoulder as they emerged with Alastor to see what all the hullabaloo was about, the radio demon mended your wound while Husk held you in his lap, head on your shoulder heaving as you had stopped crying and the pain went into shock as the glowing black threads stitched you back together perfectly. But as you had tried to get up, Husk moved the two of you around the corner and to the hall so you could go and clean up in the bathroom as he went to the mens. That night had really sealed the deal for the former overlord when it came to you.
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As you skipped around the corner, you caught glimpse of the big cat, seeing a nod from him as you found your way to the center of the lobby and dropped your bucket so-so onto the tile with a tiny wave back, watching as water splashed over the side from the force before you dipped and wrung out your mop. The squelch of the mop water was happily drowned out by your tunes, feet moving to the pace in which the music was set as your tentacle-like cleaning utensil glided across the floors. Even with how large the main floor was, it was easier to clean then it looked, your first round being finished by the time about six songs had skimmed by. Your mop found its way near the bartop, Michael Bublé blasting loud in your ears while you used a single hand to lift each barstool as you mopped beneath them, soon gliding with the click of your heels behind the counter you shifted around the big cat and his wings by ducking under them, sweetly and gently brushing them with your free hand and a giggle. You hadn't heard him ask you what your deal was, nor the growl of annoyance as he got up when you spun again and unknowingly dropped your device onto the ground with a light tac as you treaded off. Husks ear flicked again as you disappeared into the hall with your mop after you'd wrung it out again, his cat-like curiosity taking hold of his better judgment as he picked it up and took it back over to the bartop to set it down.
The screen lit as it was sat down, the music name scrolling over the screen as well as the names of the artists, the particular genre was an odd choice. But now he understood why you were constantly unaware of your surroundings as he slid up on the screen to unlock it, sliding down to reach the Bluetooth button so he could turn it off to see what would occur and to his delight, from the darkness of the hallway at the near end of it he heard a confused hum. With this in mind he clicked on the play button of the music icon on your home screen, slipped the phone under the bartop, and music began to ring about the lobby. 'Sha-boom, by The Chords? What a selection..' He concurred as your petite figure emerged from the dark of the hall with a nervous expression. "Uhm?-" Your voice, like always, dripping in an affectionate honey like tone as you scampered over to the bar where Husk made it clear he hadn't cared that she had attempted to gain his attention. 'Let's see how you like it, hm?'
"Husk, where did my phone go?" You inquired, hands reaching behind the thick strands of your hair that hid your headphones so that you could take them out. The music continued, the end of the song coming up as you shifted to look around the countertop and under barstools, a bit around the bars area as well before you attempted to come round the back of it again, only to have Husk stop you with the loud clink of a glass on the solid surface of the counter. It was full of a brownish bourbon, ice clicking together as he reached under the counter to pull out a small, yet big cherry that he dropped in the top with his usual scowl. "Sit down." He grumbled as he watched your obedience slide up and onto a stool with a nervous noise of discomfort. "What's up with these?" He huffed out as he pulled out one of his clawed hands that was tightly closed, unfurling it to show the headphones you'd taken out just moments ago. You blinked, looking to your hand with a surprised but also rather impressed expression, "I- I like to listen to music? Uh- Excessively?" You stated, more like questioned, a tad bit confused by the sudden interrogation. "On full blast? How the hell do you get anything done when you can't hear shit around you?" He huffed, dropping the little items on the ground as the sweet voice of Missus Fitzgerald began to scat herself into song. "Well it's easier when I tune everyone out, I truly don't like interacting with sinners.. So uh, I just turn up the volume and submerge myself?" You began to shrink into yourself as you explained what was going on, simply trying to end the conversation so you could go back to your little world of musicals and dancing at random.
"And if someone were to attack you while this is happening again? The hotel is always open, it's always available for said sinners to enter, what if a serial killer fond of little ladies like yourself ends up wandering in with an adrenaline rush like the last few fucked up dickheads?" His paw slammed on the top of the bar, making you jump slightly and look down with a blush of embarrassment at his skepticism and truth. "Well, I-" He cut you off, seeing how you'd drawled out your words in thought, "Well what? You keep it low enough to hear? Bullshit, I asked you what your deal was a bit ago and you were ignoring me-" You blushed harder, your pearly white skin turning bright pink now as you tried to speak up cause you felt your reason valid to your little situation. "You know what? No, I definitely need to know that actual reason because, however stupid this shit is, I'm gonna end up drinking because of you dipshits." He picked up the drink he'd offered you, taking a swig of it with a straight face, like he'd just drank water when you knew it had to be strong just by the damn smell. "I listen to it loudly because I know I'm safe!" Was your discreet and polite way of speaking, making Husk scoff into the glass as he slammed it down with a clunk. "You're safe? Yeah, about thirty seconds is all someone needs before your ass is on the floor half naked and being taken advantage of before someone else comes out because the commotion is just barely too loud." You gasped and covered your ears with a shriek, head shaking as you began to speak rapidly and more explainitory. "No no no no, Jesus, fuck- No!!" You gasped, burying your head into your little hands with a noise of embarrassment at his miss of what you meant. "God, I mean't that you're out here every night!" He expression faltered, eyebrow raising slightly as he took a swig again, apparently at the reaction you'd had to his bluntness. "And - And since‐ Since you're always watching me while you keep up with who wanders in and out, I assume that you'll spring into action if a danger comes by.." You muffled your words into your hands, a soft noise of embarrassment earning you a scoff yet again from the big winged cat. "Oh, come on, Husk -" You were already embarrassed, his additional noise making it worse than even before he cut you off, "Nah, listen to me. Yes, yes.. I'd help you out in a cinch like that, doll. I always will, but I can't always be there to help-" You butted in with an, "I know-" But he shoved the bourbon into your hands and that hushed you as the liquid sloshed and splattered onto your apron with a strong stinging smell that made you squint a wince out a noise of discomfort "And since I can't always be there to help that means you gotta take care of yourself. So, no more headphones while working. As grotesquely fucking wholesome as your music is, you can play it down here when your here out loud and work.." Your eyes lit up as you subconsciously brought your glass to your lips, sipping at it only to go bug-eyed and cough harshly while setting it down, much to his delight of finally coaxing you to partake in his indulging you in his drinks of fancy. He smiled at your fit of gagging, eyes narrowing knowingly now as he revealed your device to place it on the bar again, but smacked your hand as you went to take both it and your headphones.
So, things went as so. You'd wake around midnight and bring your things out, hesitantly leaving your earphones behind each time as you'd lock your door behind you, then get your cleaning supplies, set up your music whatever genre it may be, get a load of rude-teasing from the bartender, and then start from the bottom up like usual. But through this different change, you noticed that Husk was much more talkative during the night then during the day, mentioning he'd barely talk this much even to Nifty when you'd make your little sweet observations. He'd always greet you, albeit in a moody tone, but nonetheless. He'd see if you'd like a drink half way through your cleaning when you would have to come back down for a refill of supplies or had to run out and back in from the store to get more things, and at the end of your shifts and his, he'd even started walking you back to your room since his was a few floors higher for his hermit-like type of living.
It was all rather refreshing, if you'd say so yourself. Learning that he had been doing most of this the whole time you'd been working here, apart from the walking to your room with you and you had been ignoring it all. So much kindness from a source you would never have thought could be that way since you had sold your soul for your happiness to remain in any situation. At this point you had throughly enjoyed being in his company, finding yourself looking forward to not only cleaning the hotel but getting to chat up the ol' drunk kitty cat who didn't mind your frazzled repetitive music tastes. Even gone as far as to wonder what he'd sound like while singing with you due to hearing him hum along to your same songs you'd listen to on repeat. So deep.. Perhaps a baritone?
You smiled softly as you skipped down the hall with your things in hand, sliding your bucket into the middle of the lobby as you tossed the mophead into it to soak for a moment before you got to work. Approaching the bar countertop, you got your phone out and pulled up the very first playlist you had been listening to when you'd left your headphones in your room and placed your device on the surface full blast, much to Husks distaste. "What's up with you and this? It's like your trying to not so subtly hint at having a kink for soft lovey dovey shit." His way of putting it always made you cringe, 'Why does he have to put it that way..? These were the songs he'd hum to so often..' You sighed inwardly to yourself, slowly wringing the mophead into your bucket as Ella's voice rang for the umpteenth time throughout the main entrance before slapping it down to get to work.
The BarCats eyes narrowed at your ignoring of him, he wasn't upset, nor did he dislike the music. You just played it so fuckin much that he knew all the words to these ancient songs, the tunes, pitches, and tempos. He rolled his eyes when you got to work, almost instantly humming away while mopping and spinning about the floor. You'd gotten so comfortable with his gaze, so carefree when he was around, more so when you both were alone like this and he truly liked this side of you. The glass that he was cleaning with a semi-dirty rag sat on the counter with a light tap as his claw double clicked on your phone screen so he could get into your music app to look through the songs on this playlist. 'Seriously?' He huffed in his mind, 'Would he?'. What kind of a playlist name was that? He shucked his belittling thoughts away and scrolled through them, noting how they were placed in and what days they had been added. "Hey," He barked, eyes still on the device below him as you hummed in response. "Why is this playlist so sappy?" He asked again, toning down his phrasing so that he could get an answer.
You hummed again, twirling and swirling around until you got near the bar counter again to answer. "I like these songs together? It's a lovely ambiance, don't you think? A wonderful feeling that spreads into to make you all warm and fuzzy?" You were chipper, unfazed by his scowl of disbelief. "You actually like this?? Cause I find it hard to believe." You rolled your eyes, Marvin Gaye taking hold of the atmosphere of the lobby which made you immediately start swaying along with the music and lip syncing to the words with a wide shit eating grin on your face. "Yep, it seems like you really do.." He groaned, a clawed paw running down his face as the song continued, ending in your attempt to sing the beginning of Paul's Ankas hit single while pointing at the bartender.
"That was trash-" He scoffed as you stopped half way and kept mopping, watching as your offended figure spun around, skirt fluttering with a graceful anger as your heel clicked the ground in a light sounding smack. "I'd like to see you sing one of these song then, they're hard when you don't have the vocals, huh?" You puffed your cheeks out, obviously joking, you loved to sing this way to throw people off. You really had a wonderful voice, merely shy to sing with your heart in front of others. But the stolen shit eating grin you'd had was now on his toothy smirk, tapping on a song that you hadn't heard in a while. Husk walked around the bar and over to you, starting off Frank Sinatras duet that he had made with his daughter before he had passed on.
"I know I stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me. And if we go someplace to dance I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me.."
His hand reached out and took yours, making you stop your work to look at him with wide eyes, you were right. Baritone..♡
"And afterwards we'd stop into a tiny place and have a drink or two," The hand he'd used to grab your own, brought it above your head and spun you, sliding behind you to the other side before letting go to move closer to your side so he could sing again, hands and arms wrapping around you in a surprisingly warm hug as he sang further, enchanting you to listen more.
"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid, like I love you.." He swooned into your ear, teasing as you stiffened and yelped when he took hold of your hands to spin you around to face him, leading you to the music with ease because of your dumbfoundment. You piped in, quieter than him but still there, singing along with him as his moves became looser and more fluent, fun, and improvised yet rather precise. Your skirt fluttered as you were spun with grace, heels soft as they tapped the floor along with his feet. He seemed more than content, loving almost as he dipped you to where his nose brushed against yours, whiskers twitching against his muzzle as he grinned with your bashful smile.
"I practice everyday to find some coverlines to say to make the meaning come true, but then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you." You sang along, a bit louder but not expecting him to go quiet for that moment. "The time is right, your perfume fills my head; the stars get red and oh the nights so blue~" He added, watching your face turn red with a chuckle as he spun you yet again, guiding you through the main entrance and in circles. His wings we're flexing, flapping delightedly at this situation and spreading enough to attempt enticing you.
"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, I love you..~" You never thought his tone could have deepened, but it did, coaxing you closer in awe with your lips parted ever so slightly. "I love you.." You sang back, "I love you..." He sang, only slower this time, leaning down with slowly flattening ears and half lidded eyes, "I love you..♡" The gap was sealed, but only for a moment before the sound of clapping came from beside you. The two of you disconnected almost instantly. "BRAVO!" A voice, filtered harshly with static spoke aloud, hands softly slapping together as he walked in with a smile like the man always did. "Quite the performance, you two, quite a performance. That was a rather enthralling exchange. Just wait until Charlie hears the glorious news that her worthless hotel is working!" He babbled away proudly, the warbling ghostlike laughter of his shadow singing in the background as it circled the two of your own shadows. Your hand had smacked over your mouth at the distance Husk had so boldly closed with his furry lips, he seemed unfazed yet still agitated by your boss's appearance.
"Jesus fuck- Wow, Al, I didn't see you there!" You giggled out with a shocked yelp after placing a hand over your chest in surprise.
"Now my dear, that's no way for a lady to speak." He tutted, microphone shifting in his hand to gently tap the top of your head in warning as Husk rolled his eyes in annoyance before pulling you back over and behind him so the two of you could get back to work, how you adore this silly demon kitty.
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so-long-soldier-writes · 10 months
Text
Do You Believe in Soulmates, Darling?
poly!mikaelsons x reader
summary: after waiting a thousand years to find their soulmates, the mikaelsons find it in mystic falls. one thing though - they all share the same lover. | request
word count: 7k (I don’t know how this happened)
tags: soulmates, fluff, human!reader
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It is Kol that sees you first. He is standing in the town square, observing how people are in the twenty-first century, and how much has changed since he’d last been undaggered. He hadn’t really planned on being out that day, but Klaus was getting unruly in the mansion, needing quiet time to paint. Kol wasn’t in the mood to be on the receiving end of his anger again, so he scurried out the door and decided to explore the town. 
It’s peaceful and no one bothers him. No siblings, nor vampires, nor townspeople. For once, the inhabitants of Mystic Falls mind their own business. 
By nearly three o’clock, he still occupies the square. Klaus was probably over his anger hours ago, but Kol finds he quite likes the scene. Despite enjoying the time away, though, he knows he should go home soon before a sibling catches up to him. One cannot escape the family for too long; that’s the blessing and curse of family. With a sigh, he stands up to leave, sparing one last glance to the park before him. 
Thank god for that last look. Had he not taken it, he wouldn’t have noticed you. That would be a missed connection never known, but to secretly haunt him forever. 
You, with your gentle smile as you look at the girl to your left. The way your eyes roll at something she says. The way you walk gracefully towards him, though he knows that’s not where you’re headed. Suddenly, something inside him wishes it were. Something fluttering in his chest; something that starts to beg for your attention. He stares at you as if his gaze would somehow attract yours. 
“Are you daft? Kol! Hello?!” None of the words register to him. However, the swift hit to the head does. 
Kol whips around to see his sister. Her hands open to him in frustration. 
“I’ve been calling you for ages, standing right beside you. What are you even looking at?”
“Nothing,” he says, almost stutters. 
“Certainly not nothing to have your attention like that.” Rebekah scoffs, then tries to follow his line of sight.
By then, you had dipped into a store. Kol secretly curses his sister for the distraction. 
“That bird over there, you were seeing?” There’s a bluebird standing where you just were.
“No.”
“Then whatever in the name of-”
“Just a girl, Bekah. So like I said, nothing.”
“Oh? A girl’s caught your attention?” She snickers, “tell me, is she pretty?”
“Can you bugger off?”
“Why don’t you just answer?”
“Because I-” he stops upon seeing you again. You and Caroline tumble out of the store laughing, clutching onto each other’s shoulders. He listens to the words he sees leave your lips. 
“That was so weird,” you mutter.
“People here are so strange sometimes,” Caroline agrees with your statement. 
“Because you what?” Rebekah’s voice cuts back in. When Kol doesn’t answer, she follows his gaze again. “Caroline Forbes?”
“No, the girl beside her.”
A tease is prepared on the tip of her tongue, but upon seeing you, it’s gone. The two Mikaelsons are quiet for a moment as they watch you and Caroline continue to laugh. 
“My, she is pretty,” the blonde finally admits. “Go talk to her.”
“Do you really think it’s wise for me to go over there with Caroline Forbes right there?”
“Well if you don’t now, you could lose her forever!”
“Or I could lose my life when her blonde friend rips my head from my neck!”
“You never know until you try.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea what will happen if I do that.”
“Caroline won’t kill you because then she’ll lose brownie points with our brother.”
“Fair point, Bekah, but-” He’s interrupted by two ringing phones. Specifically, his and his sister’s. “Bloody hell. Almost went all day without a summoning.”
“Who’s calling you?”
“Klaus.”
“Elijah’s got me. Guess we have to go back now. Wish your pretty girl farewell.”
Kol rolls his eyes at her words. He steals one last glance at you before following his sister to what he hopes isn’t some new brand of chaos. 
◇◇◇◇
“So is it true?” You turn to your best friend.
“What?”
“That Klaus has a thing for you?”
She slouches in her next few steps, “really?! Y/N! As if I hadn’t had this conversation so many times.”
“Well, is it?”
“Ugh. I don’t know! I think he does, but trust me, I don’t feel anything for him back!”
“Aw,” you joke, “why not give him a chance? He could be your soulmate for all you know?”
She lets out a sharp laugh, “no way! In fact, Klaus has no soulmate, and do you know why?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer before saying, “because I don’t think he even has a soul.”
“Caroline!”
“Am I wrong?”
“I- I don’t know, I’ve never met the guy!”
“Well good. Avoid him. He can be charming, I’ll give him that, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he’s a killer.”
“He can’t be that bad. We’ve all killed once or twice.”
“First of all, yes, he is. Second, no, we haven’t. I have. You have not, and that will stay that way.”
“Maybe I have, you don’t know that.”
She snorts, “You’re too sweet for that. And besides, even if you have, you’d tell me right away with your guilty conscience.”
“I do not have a-”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Fine, I might. But don’t mistake that for me not having fire, because I can assure you, I do.”
“Oh I know you do. That’s what makes us such good friends. But you need to remember that you’re human, so you still need to be careful.”
“I know, I know!”
“Which includes talking about Klaus, because he could be listening.”
“Sorry,” you try to hide your smirk, “I won’t ask about the big bad vampire again.”
“Good.” Caroline’s not at all convinced that this’ll be your last question about them, but at least it’ll be the last for today. 
Ever since the Mikaelsons have arrived in Mystic Falls, you’ve been curious about them. It’s hard enough keeping you out of the Salvatore drama, but that difficulty increased tenfold when the original family came into play. With you and Matt being the only two humans left in the friend group, they’re very protective of you. You, even more-so than Matt. Matt’s met most of them by working at the grill, but the girls do their best to hide your existence from the four siblings. They all swear that if they ever find you, nothing good would happen. 
◇◇◇◇
“You two have been out all day, where could you have possibly gone?” Elijah questions as soon as he sees his two youngest siblings enter the mansion. 
Kol already has his answer ready, “well seeing as Klaus was about ready to kill us all this morning, I decided it would be in my best interest to get away from him.”
“He’s been steady since one. It’s past three now.”
“Lost track of time, I guess. Tell me, what is it you wanted?”
“Why? Have something to get back to you?”
Rebekah, who had left to fetch a glass of bourbon, replies, “yes, actually. I was quite occupied before you called.”
“You two? Together? Sounds like a recipe for disaster,” the eldest raises his eyebrows. “Hopefully not planning a kill in the square?”
“On the contrary, dear brother. But unfortunately for you, it’s none of your business. So again, what is it for which you called?”
“Ever so fiesty, Rebekah. Worry not, we just wanted to make sure you weren't starting anything."
"What? That's it?"
"What kind of older brother would I be if I don't check up on my younger, more troublesome siblings?"
"You called us both home for that?"
"What’s got you so bitter, sister? Mystic Falls isn't so interesting that you should be so upset."
"Not to you, but this time, we actually did find something interesting, thank you!"
"Oh, do tell, Rebekah," her other brother asks as he fetches his own drink.
"Doesn't matter now that we'll never see her again," Kol mutters, sharing an annoyed look with the blonde.
"Her?"
Rebekah glares, "yes, a girl. But Kol's right, doesn't matter." She swallows down the rest of the liquor in one gulp.
The two eldest brothers are too confused to question further. Kol takes this as a chance to retreat to his room, while Rebekah, after one more look at Elijah, leaves to hers. 
"What girl could have stolen the attention of our two siblings so quickly?"
"Doubt there is one at all. They just wanted a reason to get away," Klaus snaps with a tone full of anger. 
Elijah detects a hint of jealousy, but says nothing. Nor does he share about his curiosity for this supposed girl that infatuated them both. 
◇◇◇◇
Two days later, you’re spotted in the square again, this time, by Elijah himself. At first glance, he makes no connection between you and whomever his siblings saw, but rather takes in the sight of you. You are sitting by the fountain, legs crossed on the cement, and a hand reaching into the water. A stack of books are in front of you, the one on top open, and a notebook to your left. You pay no attention to them, though, and keep your eyes trained on the small waterfall. The sight of a human so seemingly relaxed in such a busy and perilous town has him unable to draw away his attention. He watches you carefully from the square’s metal bench, far enough that you could not catch his eye. 
Only a mere five minutes pass before you have company. A girl Elijah recognizes - April Young - touches your shoulder lightly. You turn to her with a smile as she starts to speak. Curiosity kills him, so Elijah tunes in to listen. 
“If someone finds you out here, they’re not going to be happy.”
“I don’t care, April, I’m so bored. I can’t be inside all day just because they’re scared I’m going to encounter vampires.”
“Shh! You know they could overhear you, right?”
“It’s fine! They have no reason to hurt me, I’m just minding my own business.”
“They don’t need a reason to hurt anyone, Y/N, they just do. They drink blood, remember?”
“Okay, sure, point taken. But since I apparently have a team of protectors, I should be fine, right?”
“Yeah, but-”
“And, hey, you’re human. Why are you allowed to talk to them? Who’s the girl again? Rebekah?”
“Y/N, be quiet! Yes, I talk to them, but it’s because they found me first and dragged me into all this. And Matt’s been dragged in almost since day one. You haven’t been discovered by them yet, and we all need to keep it that way.”
“So boring! I want to be in on the fun.”
“It’s not fun, Y/N. I’m serious. None of them will be gentle if they find you; they’re all dangerous.”
You sigh, giving up on arguing with the girl.
“You know what they say, ‘curiosity killed the cat’,” April says.
“Okay, but they also say, ‘satisfaction brought it back’,” you finish, eyebrows raised. 
April rolls her eyes, “stay out of it. In fact, I’m texting Caroline right now that you left your house if you don’t go back right now.”
“I’m not going back, I’m studying here.”
“Study at home.”
“No.”
Immediately, she starts to dial Caroline. In an instant, you pack your books back into your bag. “See you later, buzzkill.”
The girl hangs up, but doesn’t leave until you do. You know better than to try and win a fight against both of them, so you head home, missing the square already. 
Elijah knows he shouldn’t follow you. Caroline could be on her way; April’s in the distance. Yet, he can’t watch you walk away, either. He must at least know your name, or else it might kill him. At the very least, he could compel the conversation out of your mind as soon as he hears it. 
He waits until you’re alone to approach. Probably not the best way to do it, but he doesn’t know how many there are keeping you hidden in your supposed “team of protectors”. And this way, it would be easier to compel, should it come to that. So, as you travel down the sidewalk, humming to yourself, he suddenly calls out to you,
“Excuse me, miss.”
You turn quickly towards the voice. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the handsome stranger. “Um, hi.”
“I mean you no harm, but I saw you in the square just a little bit ago, and I have to know your name.”
You hesitate, unsure if you should give it.
He continues, “I know this is quite random, but I truly do not wish to frighten you. I saw you by the fountain, unbothered by the world around you. The screams of children, the barking of dogs, but nothing disrupted your focus from the gentle flow of water. I could tell it brought you peace, and I could see the secret you harbored to jump in and enjoy it. It was beautiful, not to mention the beauty that you are, yourself. So, apologies if I am crossing a line, but I can’t help but wonder what name to put on this delicate soul that has imprinted on my own.”
You stare at him, speechless from his words. Never has anyone said such beautiful things to you, and in such an alluring accent, no less. 
“My apologies, love. I fear I have said too much.”
“N-no! Forgive me, I’ve just never had a man tell me I’m beautiful before.”
“That is quite a shame. Sure they just have never told you out loud.” He walks closer to you, feeling a bit more confident that you’re not afraid. 
A blush rises to your cheeks, but you’re still unable to form a response. “I-I, um… Y/N. My name.”
He repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue. “Lovely name. Lovely name for a lovely girl.”
“Thank you. And what’s yours, may I ask?”
Elijah hesitates. It hurts his heart knowing he’ll have to compel this conversation from your mind, but at least, he can give you his name before he does. “Elijah Mikaelson.”
“You- you’re a Mikaelson?”
“Afraid I am.” He scans your face for fear, which he wholeheartedly expected. However, nothing. 
“You’re the first I’ve gotten the pleasure to meet. I’ve been curious, I’ll admit, but my friends tell me to stay away,” you pause, “which you probably found out from my conversation with April a few minutes ago. Oops.”
“It’s alright, love. I won’t tell a soul of your secret.”
“Thanks,” you smile, “I hate being cooped up in the house all day. You were right - I did want to jump in that fountain.”
“You should’ve. I bet the joy on your face would have been unmatched.”
You swallow hard. You’ve never been good at taking compliments. Especially not those given to you by a handsome man who has lived long enough to see thousands of beautiful things. Never would you have expected to be one of those things. “I think I should’ve, too.” 
Suddenly, you get a text. In a brief glance, you see it’s Caroline. “Oh crap.”
“Is everything alright?”
You sigh, “it’s Caroline, asking me to send a picture of myself in my kitchen, with an egg in my hand, and a spoon on my head. I guess I have to go.”
“Such an odd request,” he wonders out loud.
“She likes to put me up to things like this to prove I’m at home. It’s something I won’t have in my pictures already, and have to do that instant. If I don’t get it done in five minutes, she comes over.”
“Well I guess I better let you leave, then.”
“Unfortunately, yes. But I liked meeting you, Elijah.”
He smiles, “you too, Miss Y/N.” He steps forward and takes your palm to kiss it. In a deep breath before he starts to compel you, you suddenly interrupt him. 
“Wait! I’m way more than five minutes away. Crap! She’s gonna catch me.”
He shouldn’t offer. He shouldn’t know where you live. Yet, the idea of you getting caught out of your house worries him. He may never see you again if that happens. “I could, perhaps, take you home? Could get you there much quicker than if you were to walk.”
“You would do that?”
“I owe you that little, being the reason you might get caught otherwise.”
You blush at the thought of him picking you up, but try to force it away. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” He picks you up bridal style, and before you know it, you’re on your porch. 
“Thank you.” You smile, then check your phone. “Oh, shoot! Two minutes left.” You’re quick to unlock your door and throw it open. “Come in and help me find an egg!”
Surely you know the rules about those words pertaining to vampires and one’s home, yet you said them without hesitation. You didn’t stick around for him to question you, either, and instead ran to complete the quest. Slowly, he tests the entryway, and enters with no resistance. He then finds you in your kitchen digging through the fridge, then pulling out an egg. As quickly as you can, you take a selfie and send it to Caroline. 
“Whew!” You breathe out, then notice him, “hi.”
“You completed your challenge?”
“Hopefully! But she might still come by because it was April that called her.”
“So I should probably leave.”
You bite your lip, not wanting him to go. 
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you invite me inside?”
“Because I needed you to find an egg. Which I found myself, so thanks,” you joke.
He smiles, but only for a second, “I’m serious.”
“I don’t know, I trust you.”
“Why? I’m a Mikaelson. The very family that your friends told you to avoid.”
“Well maybe I don’t like being told what to do. And maybe you don’t seem so bad to me.”
“I would like to prove your feelings right. I wish I could.” He says truthfully, catching your eyes. 
You start to look back, but then his words hit you. I wish I could. You straighten, then look away from his gaze. “Don’t compel me.”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare compel me to forget this. I don’t want to forget this. I don’t want to forget you. You, or your smile, or the things you’ve said. Please don’t take it away from me.”
“Y/N-”
“Please.”
He takes a deep breath. It must be done, but he hates it. He doesn’t want you to forget. In fact, he wants to know you deeper. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t. I won’t tell, I promise. If anything, compel me to never forget.”
“Y/N-”
“‘Lijah, don’t.” 
The nickname you’ve already given him weakens him. It renders him unable to finish the task; there’s no way he can force himself to compel you now. “Alright.”
“Wait, really?”
“If you’re sure you want to remember, but you’re sure you’ll never tell.”
“I promise. And I won’t say that I invited in a Mikaelson, either.”
He chuckles, “that would be wise.” He kisses your hand again. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.”
“You too. And thanks for taking me home.”
“Of course, love.”
After he leaves, you collapse on your couch, head swirling with thoughts of him. The words he said: how he described your time at the fountain, the beauty he saw in you. His own appearance: kind eyes, small wrinkles under them from a lack of sleep or hundreds of lifetimes lived, or both, a perfectly neat suit, the dark blue ring fitted on his finger. The way he watched you take Caroline’s picture with a smile on the edge of his lips. How he kissed your hand gently as a parting. 
Your cheeks are hot with blush, not to mention the heat you feel throughout your body. Butterflies are alive in your stomach. It all makes you feel so silly, but some part of you whispers that it’s love at first sight. 
◇◇◇◇
The minute Klaus hears the door open, he’s already yelling, “another sibling spending hours out and about in Mystic Falls. Where in the bloody hell have you been all day, Elijah?”
Elijah enters the room to find Klaus standing beside another painting, while the two other siblings sit on the couch. All three have glasses of bourbon and are sipping carefully. “What’s going on?”
“For once? Nothing. We all just happen to be here.”
“Where have you been, Elijah?” Rebekah turns around in her seat to question him. 
Before he can answer, Klaus chuckles, “let me guess! Out with a girl. You only wear that smile when you’ve found a girl to fancy.”
“Niklaus, I have not-”
“Oh don’t try, I’ve known you for a thousand years!”
“Better not be my girl, mate,” Kol mutters, though his tone isn’t rough like Klaus’. 
“Your girl is my girl, too, Kol. Remember that.”
“Heaven’s sake, you all are idiots.” Klaus turns back to his work, ignoring the three. 
Elijah ignores him right back, and instead looks down to the others. “Describe this girl you saw. Everything you remember.”
So, Kol and Rebekah do. Everything from your appearance, to the sound of your voice, and to the way you walked. The more they described, the more it sounded like the ‘you’ Elijah was with all day. When he admits this, their faces pale. 
“There’s no way all three of you idiots have fallen in love with the same girl,” Klaus mutters, still listening despite his annoyance. 
“It’s happened before, brother. Remember Mary?”
“I remember, Bekah, but that doesn't mean it��s plausible to happen again.”
“I think it is entirely plausible,” Kol admits, “in fact, I think this goes deeper than it did with Mary.”
“Whatever are you talking about?”
“Something draws me to her. And it’s like I know her, yet I don’t at the same time. Do you guys feel this too, or is it just me?”
“No, I definitely feel it,” Elijah says, “and spending time with her today felt so natural. Like it was something I could never tire of.”
“You three sound so stupid. Talking like this girl, that two of you have never actually met, is your soulmate or something.”
“Well maybe you need to see her, Klaus. You’ll be in love instantly, I promise.”
Klaus rolls his eyes one more time at his youngest brother before going back to his painting. He refuses to admit the curiosity he feels towards you, and instead plays on animosity. His siblings don’t give up, though, and continue talking about their feelings for you until they all part to go to bed.
The following day, Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah actively seek you out in hopes of inviting you to dinner. They spent the morning planning that they’d find you and convince you to come over, where they could all gain your trust and get to know you better. The difficult part of this was getting you alone to talk. Elijah had warned his siblings about what you had said and told them to keep a close eye on their surroundings. He did also mention how excited you were to meet a Mikaelson, though, and said to use this to their advantage if one of them finds you instead of himself. 
So, in three different parts of the city, the siblings fan out and keep their eyes peeled for your presence. Shouldn’t be that hard to find; they’ll just follow the pull of their hearts. 
◇◇◇◇
For ten minutes, you’re able to sneak away, just long enough to visit your favorite store on the street corner. After meeting Elijah yesterday, the thought of being stuck in your house all day sounds miserable, and you are prepared to risk your friends’ wrath to see him again. Granted, inside the little shop is probably not the place you’d find him, but being out in the open at least makes it seem possible.
You are looking at a row of necklaces when a man comes up beside you. You don’t see his face, yet he doesn’t seem threatening to you, so you’re not too worried. 
“That color would look beautiful on you,” he says aloud. 
“Me?” You glance around to see if he’s talking to someone else.
“Yes, darling. I mean you.”
You blush instantly. “Thank you.”
“Let me get it for you.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. It must be expensive!”
“Not a problem for me. I happen to come from a well-off line.”
“Oh do you now?” You turn to face him fully. “And what line would that be?”
He smiles at you, then plucks the necklace from its place and brings it to the counter. Immediately after buying it, he’s fastening it around your neck. “As expected, you look beautiful.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“How could I not? It was made for you.”
“You’re too kind.” You reach your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N L/N.”
Instead of shaking it, he presses a kiss to the back, “Kol Mikaelson.”
He watches your eyes light up, just as Elijah said they would. “Mikaelson?”
“So you’ve heard of me?”
“Heard of you? Definitely.”
“And I heard you met my brother yesterday. God, he would not stop talking about how beautiful you are.” 
You blush deeper at the thought of Elijah talking about you to his family. Either that, or it’s because Kol’s still holding your hand gently. You’re not sure. 
“Say, Y/N, would it be possible I could invite you to dinner? I would love to get to know you better, and I know Elijah would love to see you again. Bekah, too, has a curiosity.”
“I, um…” you so desperately want to, but fear your friends finding out. “I want to, but I don’t know if I can.”
“If it’s Caroline Forbes you’re worried about, I bet we could fake an alibi.”
“It’s not just Caroline, it’s all of them. But, if we could think of a good enough alibi, I bet I could escape for a little bit.”
“Perfect, I will let my siblings know. This is our address, but if you need one of us to pick you up, my number’s on there, too.” He slips you a piece of paper. “I look forward to seeing you again, darling.”
“I do, too, Kol,” you smile. 
With one last kiss to your hand, he disappears from sight. 
You show up on the Mikaelsons’ porch at seven in one of your best outfits, playing with your hair nervously after ringing the doorbell. When the door swings open, the girl - Rebekah - is on the other side. 
Before you can greet her, she looks you up and down, “wow… you are gorgeous.”
The redness rises back to your cheeks, “thank you.”
“No wonder my brothers are smitten with you.”
“Don’t lie, Rebekah,” Kol’s voice rings through the house, “you know you are too.”
She rolls her eyes, “come inside, dear. We promise we won’t bite.”
You follow her into the house, smiling as you pass the threshold into the mansion. “It’s beautiful in here.”
“Not as beautiful as you, darling.” 
You’re starting to pick up on the affectionate nicknames that each gives you. Elijah calls you ‘love’; Kol calls you ‘darling’; and Rebekah just used ‘dear’. It’s one thing that they’ve all called you beautiful, but they all have nicknames for you, too. If they get any more romantic, your heart will flutter right out of your chest. 
Just as you think that, they do. Elijah and Kol both kiss your hands as they greet you, making you weak in the knees. 
“Thank you for coming, love. I’m glad you could join us.”
“Thank you for inviting me. About that alibi, Kol, I’m gonna need it tomorrow. No doubt I’ll get some kind of spoon-on-head, one-nail-painted-black kind of challenge that I’ll fail, and have to find an excuse for.”
The boy laughs, having been told by Elijah about Caroline’s antics. “We will certainly come up with something. But for now, are you hungry?”
“Yes, actually. And I’m excited to know what you guys eat when you’re not drinking blood,” you joke. The giggle fades out once you see the kitchen table, though. From end to end, it’s covered in dishes. “Holy crap.”
“Only the best for a woman such as yourself,” Kol sends you a wink. 
Rebekah pulls a chair out for you. “Stick around, and you’ll find we actually have quite the appetite for more than blood.”
“Oh that was just a joke,” you say, afraid you’ve offended her.
“No worries. I know it was.”
Soon, you’re all seated, except for the head of the table. “Um. Don’t you guys have another brother?”
“Niklaus, yes,” Elijah smiles at you, “he’s painting at the moment, but he should be here shortly. I apologize for his absence.”
“It’s okay! I was just curious.”
Speak of the devil, Klaus enters the room not a minute later. Elijah gestures to you immediately, introducing you. Klaus, still skeptical as to why his siblings are so obsessed with you, has a threat prepared that sits on his tongue. The three wait for it to come out, expecting it, and ready to defend. However, as soon as he looks at you, his mind is wiped of all things foul and offensive.
“Hello, love,” he says instead. 
All four of you are caught off guard. The tension in the room was thick; you were expecting an insult, too. Not to mention how Caroline speaks so poorly of the man. 
“Hi,” you respond, voice smaller than you’d like, “nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” He sits down with a newfound attitude towards you. “Tell me, how do you like Mystic Falls?”
After you answer his question, the five of you talk for the next two hours, sharing every bit about yourselves. They learn how you’ve lived in Mystic Falls your whole life, and have barely traveled out of the town. You discover they were born in Norway, but were turned in this very town, some thousand years ago. You find common ground in the parents’ department, none of you having the best relationships with your parents, especially your fathers. Though you get a glimpse into the abuse that they all faced from their father, and feel an indescribable rage towards the man you’ve never met. This part of the conversation helps you understand each of them better, including how that fear and anger has made them into one of the most dangerous families - a term they admit describes them well.  
“Dangerous,” Rebekah says, “but fiercely protective over those we love.” 
“Quite exactly the reason we are so dangerous,” Elijah adds to her statement, “we will do anything to protect whomever we love.”
Hearing the word from their lips makes your body shiver. A thought passes through your head wondering if you’d ever be someone that they’d protect that much. Something deep in your soul tells you that you already are. 
After the childhood topic, conversation moves onto lighter subjects. Everyone’s favorite foods, shows, and pastimes are shared. You learn the birth order of the four siblings in front of you, and discover that there’s three others not present. One of them, alive, but so disgusted that they’re vampires that he refuses to associate with them. This, in turn, gets a truth out of you, 
“Well you don’t have to worry about me, I think vampires are sexy,” you say before covering your mouth. Too much wine, you suppose. “I mean, I just think they’re cool. There’s a reason the gang tries to keep me in the dark about everything that goes on in the town.”
Eyes go wide, but maybe for the sake of your embarrassed gesture, the topic moves onto the so-called perfect group of miscreants. After, it shifts to your alibi that will be used to explain your disappearance. 
“You were bored and went to a restaurant to study. Lost track of time,” Kol tries his best.
“Ran to the store for a much needed grocery trip,” Klaus provides after his brother’s failed idea.
“Or,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, “you just fell asleep.”
“Watching a movie and falling asleep,” Elijah finishes, “so that you have about an hour to be engrossed in the movie, but then you nod off into a deep sleep.”
“I think Caroline would buy that. She always does get after me for not answering immediately.”
“Perfect,” Klaus concedes, “now I would like to know more about what you think makes vampires so sexy,” he says, smirking at you. 
You blush for a second, but then can’t help spilling the truths stacked on your tongue. 
◇◇◇◇
After that night, you stay in contact with the Mikaelsons, and even visit their mansion for several more dinners. In time, you find yourself getting close with each one. Most nights, Rebekah walks you home, and always kisses your cheek before leaving. Sometimes, too, she’s in your kitchen, making coffee or tea when you wake up. Kol visits you everytime Caroline puts you on “house arrest”, and tries to help you study to the best of his ability. That, or he distracts you completely, begging you to watch a movie with him instead. You almost always give into him. Elijah keeps up his charms of kind words and gentle touches. The moment he learns what your favorite flower is, he brings you one every time he sees you. 
Between the siblings, Klaus is the least trusting and the last to give into his desire to know you. Though the more he sees you with the others, the more jealous he becomes, and eventually, he cracks. His first gesture towards you is a painting of you standing in the Mikaelsons’ ballroom. He says he could picture you dancing in it, someday, in a beautiful dress made tailored just for you. After that, he’s now just as smitten as his siblings. 
You love being with all of them, separately and together. One thing though - you find your heart being torn in four different ways, and it scares you. You can’t break one of their hearts, nor do you want to, but there’s no way you could be with all of them. Look how that went for Elena and the Salvatores.
Oh, and speaking of Elena… you still haven’t even told your friends that you’re even hanging out with the Mikaelsons, much less that you’re in love with them. You feel bad keeping secrets from them, but you know how they’ll react if they find out. Even if you can prove the family has been nothing but kind, they’ll be overprotective and most likely try to ban you from seeing them entirely.
“Maybe I can just tell one of them,” you wonder out loud one night. Tonight was easy to get out of your house; everyone went to the grill to drink and you played the ‘too tired’ card. Little did they know what you were actually going back to the family’s mansion.
“Who would you start with?” Rebekah asks from behind as she plays with your hair. 
“Caroline, maybe? I’m closest to her. But with Elena, I could use the excuse that she’s dating a vampire who’s almost just as dangerous.”
Klaus scoffs playfully, “almost as? Love, he doesn’t come close.”
“Well I know that, but some people think he’s pretty dangerous.”
“Oh he certainly is. But when it comes down to it, my family will always come out on top.” 
You remember the conversation from your first night meeting them. How you wondered if you’d ever be one they’d fight to the death to protect. Klaus answers this for you now. “Like we said before, we protect those we love. That includes you, little one.”
Your eyes snap up to him. “Me?”
“Isn’t it obvious? We open our home to you; share our deepest and darkest secrets. We don’t do that with just anyone. There’s something different about you.”
“He’s right,” Kol comes beside you on the couch to sit down, “you’re one of us now.”
Elijah clears his throat, a little worried the two will scare you away, “if you’re comfortable with that, of course. Do not feel pressured in any way. We will not be upset.”
As he’s talking, you reach your hands out for Kol to lean against you. The youngest boy does, putting his head on your shoulder, while you wrap your arms around his neck. “Pressure? No, I don’t feel pressured. I love hanging out with you guys. I love-” you pause, blinking. You’re not sure what to say. 
“Y/N?” Elijah starts. 
“I’m… I don’t know… I’m confused, and I feel awful for it, but I… I don’t even know what to say.”
“What’s wrong, girlie?” Rebekah kisses the top of your head gently. The boys focus their attention on you fully. “I promise, whatever you say, you don’t have to feel awful.”
“Bekah’s right, you can tell us anything.”
“I just… I love you guys. I love being with you all as a family, but then, I don’t know, I love you all separately, too.” They say nothing, so you continue. “And it’s not just a friendly thing, either. It’s like blushing, butterflies in the stomach, wanting to be with you kind of love. Which would be okay if I fell for only one of you - well, actually, it wouldn’t, because then I’d hurt the rest of you - but it’s not just one. I love all of you like that.”
Elijah’s first to speak. “Why do you think that would be wrong?”
“What?”
“Why is that a bad thing to you?”
You stare at him, “I can’t have a thing with four different siblings. That’s crazy, right?”
You can’t see her face, but Rebekah’s smiling wide. “Are there any rules when it comes to love?”
And before you can answer her, Klaus follows up, “crazy pretty much defines this family, I don’t know what you’re worried about.”
“Hold on,” you put up a finger, even more confused, but now for a different reason. “You are all okay with this?”
“We may have had a talk,” Elijah says, sitting down, “the night after you first came here. You see, we’ve all shared lovers before, so this is nothing new to us. However, usually they rotate. Start with Klaus, move onto Kol, have a fling with Bekah, start something with me, and then they go. But, as you’ve heard us say plenty a time, you’re much different.”
You nod, “so what was the talk?”
“Well, dear Y/N, none of us can quite keep our feelings about you to ourselves. Nor do we ever think we could tire of loving you.” Elijah’s slow and cryptic talk is making you antsy. Apparently, it’s frustrating Kol, too.
“Do you believe in soulmates, darling?”
“Soulmates? Um, ish? I mean, Caroline and I used to entertain the idea as kids.”
“Would it be absolutely crazy to entertain the possibility that you’ve met yours? And perhaps it to be in the form of four siblings to whom you’ve just admitted your love?”
“I-” slowly, it hits you. His words sink into your head and your heart at the same time. A fire burns, heating your palms, reddening your cheeks. 
“Because polyamory was a thing with the Ancient Greeks, though it’s not too common anymore. But then again, here you have four siblings who love you just as dearly. In that same ‘butterflies and a warm feeling’ that you described.”
“I, um…”
“If you had let me explain it, you wouldn’t have scared her,” Elijah chides his brother. 
“You were taking too long. I’ve been waiting a thousand years to tell this girl I love her.”
Hearing the three words finally broke the dam. Whatever fear you did have melts away instantly. “It’s okay,” you mutter. “It’s clear to me now. I do love you. All of you. As crazy as it sounds, I can’t deny my feelings; I don’t want to. I love you.”
Immediately, Kol spins around so he can kiss you properly. You kiss him back, relaxing into his hands which hold onto your face. As soon as he breaks it off, Rebekah mutters that he needs to move, and then she kisses you, too. 
“I just have one question,” you pant, out of breath from the excitement. 
“And what is that?”
“How do I know this isn’t going to end terribly, like how Stefan and Elena’s relationship did ever since she fell in love with his brother?”
“Because,” Klaus zips across the room to put less distance between you two, “we all love you and are quite capable of sharing. We’ve lived thousands of years together, and have been looking for you for thousands more.”
“Besides, there’s this cool thing called communication that we do that the Salvatores like to ignore. Take it from someone who’s slept with both,” Rebekah adds. 
You crinkle your nose at the information, “no more sleeping with Salvatores.” You pull her back in for another kiss, “you’re mine now.”
When you let go of Bex, Klaus steals his turn, and then Elijah. It’s a little overwhelming, but your worries are overpowered by how much love you feel from them, and by how much you want to give them in return.
After you all settle down, you let out a giggle. “I had nearly given up on the idea of finding my soulmate. Little did I know I’d be so lucky to have four.”
“Not as lucky as us,” Elijah claims the last word, “to have found our girl after thousands of years of searching.”
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