#I thought it was the end! He was just on fire and no one was there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugoi-writes · 3 days

Note

REQUEST TIME :333 ummm this is actually my first time requesting here but I’ve been so obsessed with Human Alastor so maybe a sexy thing where he hunts you (fem reader) down in the wooded near his cabin with his shotgun? This is so dangerous lol but he’s shooting and splitting trees as you zip pass them in your nightgown (he would never shoot you it’s for the flare) you stumble over an old stump and he is on your ass! You fight and tumble around before he’s dragging you by your ankles back to his cabin to have his way with you? (All of this was very much consensual between the two of you elaborated foreplay if you will!)

Trigger Happy - Human! Alastor x Fem!Reader

My friend in Satan, I am SO sorry for how long this took! I was honestly getting worked up over it!!! Hate the delay, but I hope the story itself will be worth it! Just as a warning, this is getting towards risky territory, but I promise nothing too bleak. A few warnings: Guns, a heated foot chase, you get distracted there for a while, some physical violence/tussling, f!reader, some f!oral and m!oral, overtsim, rope/restraints, and some REALLY filthy penetrative sex. Y'all are some absolute freaks in this one. Hope you enjoy! (ALSO THIS IS LIKE INSANELY LONG IM SORRY ITS LIKE 9K--)

SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes for helping me through this and being my scream queens/beta readers dhoduhdouhdoduhdohidoi <3 (I'm in love with both of you BLINKBLINK)

Taglist: @ieatcocoa @nocturessa @tsukikos-stuff @leviskittywh0re

@polyo-nym-y @cosmiccandydreamer @littlebluefishtail @your-excellenc-z21 and others (if you wanna be tagged I'll add you! Sorry I've never made a taglist before???)

🩸🦌🩸

Your hands fidgeted in your lap as Alastor finished the final touches of tonight's meal. You regarded him nervously as his humming filled the humble interior of his inherited cabin. He was in such a good mood, you thought... Why spoil something so tender and domestic between the two of you?

For a while now, you knew of your darling beau's aversion to many things, physical intimacy being one he struggled with most. At least, compared to most... You hardly minded, as when you were on the receiving end of such of intimacy... Well, let's just say you could usually expect to be bedridden for a few hours. You swallow the bile creeping up, nerves reflected in your voice as you spoke," Alastor, dear?"

A pair of kind, almond-colored eyes looked upon you, making your heart leap. Alastor's eyes turned a warm amber when exposed to the charming lighting provided by the fireplace.

"Yes, darling?" Alastor cooed, his tone still airy and filled with a domestic softness.

"Could we... could we talk for a moment? Before dinner?"

Your partner gave you a bemused look, as if he were asked a ridiculous question. His hands settled on his hips as he rocks his weight onto his other foot, eyebrows raising.

"Dear, why let the food grow cold? Could we not discuss it over dinner? I tell you, it's JUST like my mother's; it's hearty, filling, and--"

"Alastor," you interrupt, a stern bite cutting through your meek tone," Pl-Please... If I try to tell you while you're eating, you'd probably choke." Alastor grants you an interesting look, eyes widening with your change in demeanor. But of course, he relents, sighing like a demure housewife.

"Well then, who am I to refuse... Choking is rather unpleasant, anyhow." Quickly, Alastor fusses over your meal, dousing the fire to let it simmer.

"Now then: we have a few minutes before I need to stir it. Tell me... what's troubling you?"

You gesture for Alastor to sit with you, to take his place at the table. He silently moves towards it in confident, wide strides. You watch nervously as he sits, crossing his legs formally. You felt the sweat trickle into your brow as his simple actions felt like they took an eternity... Alastor then sets his elbows on the table, resting his chin upon his folded hands. He looked... entirely too comfortable, a stark contrast with your stiff spine and sweating palms.

Alastor watches you quietly, granting you a moment to collect your thoughts. And then, you speak:

"Alastor... you know how-- well, it's been a while since we last-- Uhhm..." The quiver of your lip tips your partner off immediately, his eyes squinting. The smile that plays on his face is telling, his teeth gleaming under the dim light.

"Oh honestly, what am I to do with you? Yes, of course we can try for a little romp tonight. But... I sense that our standard 'bedroom practices' aren't the only thing clouding your mind?"

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand the weight of what was on your mind, and how quickly it was going to hit him. You were thinking of this for weeks, terrified of his reaction... But, in the comfort of the cozy, warm cabin: it was now or never. You felt a tinge of guilt as you felt his flirty smile widen, ready to shatter his expectations.

You nod in affirmation, forcing yourself to look his way fully," Right. I have an idea. Something to... change things up. 'Make it a bit more interesting, if you'll hear me out."

Alastor hums pleasantly, one of his hands gesturing outward in an animated way. He regards you just the same, opening the floor to you. You steel your nerves, hands turning to balled up fists as you formulate your next thought bluntly," I want you to hunt me, Alastor. I wanted to be hunted."

A silence befalls the room, causing panic to rise in your chest. Your chaste, Creole partner stares back at you, eyes wide. His expression was damnably neutral, as if processing your demand. You immediately start onto a tangent, leaning forward as you make your case.

"L-Look, I know how that sounds... I don't want you to actually hurt me or kill me-- I mean-- I feel like you'd be terribly sad if I were gone, but-- No, I mean in a more..."

When you trail off, you expect Alastor to pick up on your meaning. You sigh with frustration, your hands mirroring each other as they mimed your body's curves and contours," ...sexual... way."

Alastor's expression morphs under the light of the fireplace, which burned dutifully. Alastor's black pupils dilate, his mouth falling ajar. He sits upright in his seat, leaning back as he takes everything in.

" You want me to... pursue you. Hunt you... like I would wild game? Is... Is that what you're asking?"

You nod firmly, your hands trembling," I-I know, I know... it's different. I told you it would be different--"

"Different is hardly a bad thing, mon cherie... 'just surprising, is all," Alastor drawls, his eyes softening. He could see how much you were worked up. You were scared to disappoint; scared to be rejected. He hated to see the soured look on your face, and was determined to replace it with something else," What exactly do you have in mind? This-- pursuit of ours... what are the conditions?"

It was now your turn for your face to morph, a mix of surprise and relief, a faint heat brewing in your stomach," Well... I'd like you to treat it like a legitimate chase. I could be a deer, in a sense... something to bring home for dinner. You'd chase me, and I would do my best to fight back, run away...," your eyes wander over to the shotgun by the cabin door, eyes glazed from your impure thoughts," But I don't want you empty handed. I want... I'd like for you to bring the shotgun. Use it, even... as long as you don't actually try to kill me." Alastor's expression, you swore, was now the rawest it's been since you've first met him. His heart was on his sleeve: confusion, shock, delirium, and... some sort of desire. A hunger.

Alastor smoothly rises from the table, his footsteps almost echoing in the silence. He makes his way to his nightstand, fishing out something you couldn't see. When Alastor turns towards you, you hear a familiar clink, as his revolver shines in the warm light. He opens the chamber, showing to you that it is empty, before sealing it with a resolute spin. Your fists unclench, and you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Dear, as lovely and authentic as it would be... I would hate to bring the shotgun. That tool is far too accurate and far too deadly, even in an inexperienced person's hands. A round so small can tear a hole wider than your skull, given the proper range..." When Alastor returned to the table, he sets the empty revolver there, your heart thumping at the implications. He slid it towards you, as if a peace offering," I wonder what may have caused this idea to fester... But it's one I'm most certainly intrigued by," he offers simply. You tried your best not to look away, his smile exposing just how fascinated he was with your proposal. His eyes were a dead giveaway: he was more than willing to carry this act out.

Your hand ghosts over the revolver, the wood of the grip much warmer than the cool metal of the barrel. Alastor clears his throat, calling your attention back to him," If I may, dearest, I also have a request..."

You feel your heart thudding loudly in your chest, the loud pulse making you deaf to the rest of the world.

"Which is...?" you attempt to counter smoothly, but the breathiness of your tone gives you away. Alastor's eyes squint, familiar with that lilt of yours. He relished seeing you like this: embarrassed, sheepish... But most of all, you felt an overwhelming desire to have him agree; have him take charge. His ego bloomed right under your nose... He wanted to see just how badly this desire had been burning inside of you.

"Do you recall the nightgown that you wore when we first embraced, love? The white little number with lace trim?" You nodded immediately, a heat rising in your face as you recalled your first night with your partner," Y-Yes... yes, I think I have it with me, actually."

Alastor moves over to your side of the table, kneeling down to your height. He grabs your chin, gently tilting your head to meet his eyes. You couldn't help the spark of desire that shot up your spine as a wicked smile stretches across Alastor's face," Good. I'd like to see it thoroughly ruined once I'm done with you."

You swore you had a stroke, your eyes wider than the dinner saucers that set the cozy, oak dinner table. You were brought back to reality as Alastor patted your cheek, practically singing when he spoke again.

"Now: let's eat. You'll need this to have your strength, dear~ The hunt starts this evening. Once dinner is finished, you'll have until I fully load the revolver to run. And that's when I'll come for you... understood?"

You had all but forgotten how to breathe, a stupefied nod his only reply as Alastor went back to the stove," Ohhh, almost forgot! We still have some bread from last night! I hope that's alright, dear~"

You were almost numb from the overwhelming sensations and emotions that coursed through your body. You were so excited and so nervous that you couldn't even think of eating. But Alastor had worked so hard to make you a fresh, homecooked meal... who were you to let it go cold? Despite yourself, you happily devoured the entire course, and were soon given seconds. Alastor grants you a coy smile, his expression saying what he kept silent: eat up. You're gonna need it.

---

Like the dutiful partner you were, you helped Alastor clean every dish and utensil used to prepare dinner. Ever the vixen, you even smeared some of the broth across his cheek, just to lick it off. The act made Alastor shudder, but he spared you, merely squeezing your hips and giving you a kiss. As for tonight... well, you wondered just how gentle he would be... if at all.

Once you had dried the last utensil, your ears perked up at the sound of a metallic clink. Your eyes widened, head whipping around to see Alastor opening the barrel to his revolver. He glances towards you, a neutral smile on his face," Oh! Sorry to startle you, dear. Just filling the chamber. 'Thought I heard something stalking outside... I might have to investigate it. You can never be to careful, these days."

You gasped, eyes dilating as you shook with anticipation. Now, now was the time.

You sprinted over to your suitcase, throwing it on the bed as you frantically searched for your nightgown. He was eager to start too, it seemed--

Click. First bullet loaded.

"I say, what a strange time of year...," Alastor rambled as he spun the glistening chamber, pushing up his glasses with the wrist of his other hand. The second bullet was clutched in his fingers, the rest scattered on the counter. You nearly shrieked as you frantically tear off your loungewear, exchanging it for the gown that Alastor requested. He would have thought the action was adorable and meek, if it weren't for his desire to fuck you stupid.

A bemused chuckle fills the air, dark and full of promise.

"What do you think is out there right now, love? A little rabbit, perhaps? With a fluffy white tail?"

Click. Second round.

You made your way hastily to the door as Alastor watched you, wiping the barrel of his revolver with the edge of his flannel. He was taking his time and making this spectacle: that you knew for sure. He seemed aloof, unbothered by your accelerated heartrate... but it agonized him to no end. This zesty little suggestion already had his mind reeling, possibilities of how he would claim you crossing over him every time he blinked.

"No, perhaps it's a deer? A doe, even? I hear it's about that time of year... mating season, that is." Your face grew hot at the notion, cursing yourself for not better preparing for this. You made sure to pull on your hiking shoes, tying the laces tightly. You prayed that they'd stay on to protect your feet.

Alastor hums with curiosity, blinking. Another image of you, trembling and moaning under his body, making his nethers pulse with interest.

"Ohh, maybe a bobcat! Something feisty... I wonder how it would taste?"

Click number three. Halfway through...

You turn around, chest already heaving as you made eye contact with Alastor. He saw you for the deranged, desperate animal that you were. His eyes matched your energy, an uncanny smile on his face. Alastor's pupils were mere pinpricks, the overwhelming expanse of amber and caramel brown nearly glowing.

"I don't know, baby... But whatever it is, I hope it runs fast," you grin to Alastor as he mirrors your expression, his tongue running across his pristine teeth.

"I'd hate to think of what would happen if you caught up to it."

With that, you were out of the door, unable to hear the rapid succession of bullets four, five, and six. Teasing be damned, he was making himself impatient. Alastor made a show of closing the weapon with a hard snap and spin, a satisfying weight settling into his hand. With the gun fully loaded, it just felt so... right. A fascination he gained from his father, unfortunately. Though he did appreciate the skills he learned from the sick bastard, that was the extent of his affection.

He'd have a good number of things to thank him for before the end of the night, as he slipped on his own pair of outdoor boots. When he stepped out onto the deck, he had caught a glimpse of you. That delicate little nightgown was fluttering and fleeting, catching the moonlight. It had to have been around 9 or 10 o'clock at night... A perfect time for your little chase to commence. Not to mention, the cool, crisp Fall air had made everything entirely better; not too hot, and not too cold. For all the weather that permeated in this southern state, Fall in Louisiana had been one of Alastor's favorites. It was his favorite namely for Open Season... and how convenient for him that you were added to the list of eligible, wild game...

He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring the scent of evergreen and pine tickling his senses. He held his breath like this for a while, feeling his chest expand and burn from the denial of oxygen. Once he'd had enough, he exhaled heavily, a shudder running through his entire body. He let you have a decent head start. Now the chase could begin.

---

Your lungs burned from how swiftly you ran, feet carrying you further than you had ever pushed yourself. In that moment, you almost felt liberated, free… as if something had rolled off your chest. You aren't quite sure where this sense of euphoria came from, but you embraced it all the same, laughing breathlessly as your dress caught in stray branches and debris, your boots splashing into the wet, almost marshy forest floor. You breathed in through your nose, feeling a similar pull as Alastor to just take everything in… You were greeted with smells of wood and earth, though, in this part of the forest, you caught whiff of a water source nearby. As if a tether were around your waist, you felt called to it. Your running came to a steady, calm trot, your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness of the night.

You stop just by a clearing, a familiar bayou greeting you. You marveled at the scenery before you, scarcely lit up by the moonlight. You had almost forgotten about your little game with Alastor, brushing stray Spanish Moss aside as you stepped fully out into the open. You smile fondly, a memory crossing your mind:

You, frantically shaking Alastor's shoulders as you try to point out a doe and her darling, new fawn. But, in your desperation, the deer were scared away, frightened by your presence. You had been heartbroken, though your partner swore up and down that he saw them, and that even so: your enthusiasm was a much more charming sight.

You walked a few yards from the water's edge, not wanting to chance it; meeting a creature of the night face-to-face was not your idea of "fun"... unless it was Alastor. You were grateful, then, for your hiking boots, as they made navigating the wet earth beneath your feet much easier. However, your foot catches on your next step, causing you to stumble into a nearby tree. When catching yourself, you spy a delicately carved pattern: yours and Alastor's first initials. (You, later on, had added the heart that surrounded them). Initially, you hadn't wanted to deface a tree like this, but Alastor, ever the charmer, insisted that it would become a landmark for you; a way to tell where you were if you were ever lost...

Your hands traced the familiar carvings, the rivets scratching against your fingertips gently. You just felt your heart swell more, the thoughts of your softer moments making your mind fog. Even with someone hot on your tail, your focus waning. You began humming to yourself as you continued your restful stroll, running through moments in your memory that made you feel particularly cozy; safe.

Just when you had felt your safest, a loud SNAP of a tree twig sounded to your rear left. You froze in your tracks, turning feverishly towards the sound. Your once still, content heart was racing wildly, eyes as wide as the moon looming above you. You slowly turned your entire body to face the noise, making sure to keep your eyes focused on the direction you heard the snap. You start to walk backwards, making your way stealthily towards the tree line.

Most animals will attack you with your back turned… facing them will deter an assault, even if for a few moments, you thought… Just before you could disappear, having half a mind to sprint-- a sudden, deafening CRACK rang out, followed by the splintering of wood. You looked to your left again, as you witness the tree next to you receive a battle scar: a bullet wound.

RUN.

You bolted into the thick underbrush, doing your best to stay low to the ground as a set of steady, patient steps pursued you. Had you not had a good distance on him, your hunter's pace would have been undiscernible from your own. It thrilled you; it horrified you. You knew that Alastor had a knack for hunting, and had you known he was THIS committed, you would have asked for a better head start.

A startling thought plagued your mind as you had a moment of clarity, your face paling. You ASSUMED this was Alastor… what if it wasn't? What if this was a wild animal, who had its sights on you? What if it was another marksman, and you were trespassing on their property? The thought made your throat run dry, the instinct to become small and hide winning over your other senses.

You nearly shrieked as a second bullet wizzes past you, less than a yard away, before it strikes the tree to your right. To your horror: it was at eye level. Had this been a stranger… they were going for the kill.

You crouch all the way down to the forest floor, searching frantically until you spy an hollowed-out tree log. You slink your way over, searching for any residents or critters, before diving headfirst into the tree husk. You laid on your back, bringing your legs in as far as they could go. You winced as your knees scrapped against the dead wood. Unable to calm down, you hastily cover your mouth with both hands. You were doing your absolute best to calm your breathing. Think, now, think… you had to think your way out of this mess.

The steady beat of the hunter's footsteps slowed, until they stop entirely. You resisted the urge to sigh in relief, still unsure if you were safe or not. Eventually, you couldn't hear a thing over the deafening stillness, the normal noises of the woods silenced by your escapade. Much like you, other creatures seemed to wait with bated breath. Maybe they were terrified of the hunter… maybe they were terrified of you.

You twitch as you hear the familiar clink of metal, a revolver's spinning wheelhouse catching your ear. You weren't out of the woods yet… this could still be another person. This could very well be a real hunt… A sharp inhale sounds just a few yards away. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes slamming shut. When did that hunter get closer!? Had you misjudged how far away you were from him?!

"Only 4 more bullets, Little Cottontail… let's see if you can evade them all~"

Relief and terror washed over you simultaneously: Alastor. Your body was paralyzed with conflicting emotions, breath picking up as you hear footsteps stirring closer. You could feel the panic rising in your face, blood pressure raging; but you can also feel the traitorous, hazy heat that engulfed your core. Either way, Alastor had you completely on edge, your fragile mind was on the verge of caving in either way. Should you run away, or run to him? That was your conflict…

Knock knock

Your eyes fly open as you dare to look between your bent legs, spying a pair of steely, hungry brown eyes. Pupils mere pinpricks, the whites of his eyes were nearly glowing under the light of the moon.

"There's that sweet, little rabbit!"

You shrieked as you were pulled out of the log, knees and back scrapping against the wood of your shelter. When you met solid earth, you kicked and fought, eyes wide and animalistic. Your body still fell into conflict; you wanted this to be a real chase: FIGHT BACK. Alastor was quick to avoid your kicks, straddling your hips as he tried to restrain your flailing arms. Never did you make contact, but Alastor was cautious to avoid any accidental hits, all the same.

"Oh dear, was I wrong after all? Am I really still chasing a scared, feral little rabbit~? Or something bigger…" Alastor teased, managing to seize one of your hands. It was immediately pinned above your head as you thrashed, grunting and groaning in your efforts to escape. Alastor pressed further into you, eliciting a tight -lipped moan as you felt an unmistakable hardness rub against your core. He was enjoying this much more than his face allowed him to show…

"Be a good little pet, won't you? Won't you let me take you back to my cabin? I promise I'll make this quick and painless~"

You thrashed your head back and forth. You didn't want this to be quick. You didn't WANT it to be painless. You wanted more. MORE of this.

In a daring fit of heightened hormones and rushed decision making, a loud SLAP filled the air. You panted as your hand stung, Alastor's face now jerked to the left, looking away. A flushed, red print was painted across his handsome face, his eyes wide with disbelief. He sat there like this for a few moments, his grip on your hand all but gone. You took this opportunity to slink out from under him, using his dumbfounded expression as a gauge. Truly, how long did you have until he was grounded?

Sadly, it wasn't long, a slender hand cupping the offending, fading mark. You looked down as you saw something move, your mouth watering: his cock was even harder than before, twitching from the sudden outburst. A shaky, broken sigh left Alastor's trembling lips as he slowly looked back towards you. A deep dusty rose flooded his cheeks as he chuckled, his voice full of a wicked venom. His free hand fished for his revolver, the barrel now pointing straight at you.

"Alright, then… no more playing nice."

You immediately vaulted out of the way as a third shot rang out, impacting the earth you had just been sprawled upon. Alastor elegantly got to his feet, like a regal vampire exiting his coffin. He pressed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, pupils wide with desire as he watched you bob and weave into the trees.

"Three more to go," he growled, his grin widening madly as he broke out into a frenzied sprint.

The panic was steadily rising, as did your burning desire. You realized, with horror, that Alastor's pace nearly went in double time, and he was steadily gaining on you. And so, you figured if you were truly to get caught, it might as well be a trap for him too--

BANG

Shot number four rang out, a terror-filled scream igniting the night; this shot was less than a foot from your trembling, straining right leg. You muscles were scorched from the effort you put yourself in, core fully engaged as you tried to focus on breathing. You were unsuccessful, already far too overworked and overheated. You came to the harsh realization that you couldn't run much longer.

You started charting your course carefully, taking dips and turns in hopes to throw Alastor off of your trail… but ever the clever man, he never lost sight of you. And, despite your best efforts, he was nearly on top of your imaginary cottontail. You dared to look behind you, searching for the madman coming for you, only to see he was no where in sight. Your pace slowed down, confused as his footsteps cease. You came to a dead stop, spinning around wildly to find any sign of your darling partner. Your mouth ran dry as you panted, legs nearly giving out from under you. As you took in your surroundings, you feared that you may be lost… truly, genuinely lost.

"A-Al… Alastor? Baby...?" you rasp between pants, a hand coming up to your heaving chest. You take a few, cautious steps back towards the direction you came from, squinting harshly. Your eyes still had not adjusted to the low visibility of the dank, dark forest.

"A-Al… AL?!" you call desperately, scared that you may have lost him, or worse: maybe he was injured... You go to take off again, before a hand snakes around your throat. You couldn't scream as the hand squeezes your pulse, a cold, metallic object pressed into your lower back. Your fear transformed into relief, which transformed into desire, all within a span of few seconds. Familiar, heated lips brushed against the shell of your ear. Alastor's breath was heavy on your skin.

"I guess I didn't need all of my rounds, after all." Alastor nearly purred, despite his labored breathing. His warm breath followed his lips as they came to the junction of your jaw and neck, three fingers unfurling from your pulse. This left him just enough room to litter the bared skin of your neck with short, open mouthed kisses, your eyes fluttering closed. Even with only two fingers squeezing your throat, you still felt lightheaded, unable to escape. You shuddered under his grasp, your body instantly surrendering to his desire. It was official: the chase was officially over. Alastor knew that the moment you sighed into his touch.

"Good girl~"

In a rapid succession, you were grabbed and hauled over Alastor's wide shoulder, his free hand tucking his revolver away. Your hands flew down to grope and run over Alastor's body, your lungs still exhausted from the strife of running away. Alastor allowed your hands to explore, appearing unphased as he carried you out of the woods. He resisted every fiber in his being to not bend you over and fuck you into the damp earth; a filthy act for a filthy-minded girl like you. But, he had at least some modicum of class… he needed to make this last; he would ensure this was something you wouldn't soon forget.

-- You felt embarrassed by how rapidly your heart beat, how frantically you were tugging at Alastor's flannel, but when your eyes looked up to a different building, your heart nearly stopped. You were walking toward 'the shack', Alastor called it… THIS was where he took all of his wild game after hunting them down. Seeing your unease, he slapped you on the ass, hoping to chase away your nerves," Don't worry, darling… I told you I would be gentle~"

His words contradicted his actions as you were practically thrown into the shed, sprawled out onto the floor. Your eyes tried taking in your surroundings, but it was far too dark to see. You yelped as both of your hands were seized and tied with a coarse jute rope, the fibers pricking your wrists. When you felt Alastor leave you, your legs came together, heat still pooling in your lower abdomen," S-Sooo, Mr. Huntsman~ You've caught me~ What do you plan to d--" Your questioning was cut short as you were suddenly jerked onto your knees, your hands now taunt over your head. A few more tugs on your rope, and you were standing upright, struggling to balance on the balls of your feet. You wobbled as you heard shuffling behind you, rope being fastened, and the clink of Alastor's revolver laying on a flat surface.

Alastor left you in suspense like this for a few moments, as he brought his hands together with a satisfied hum. The crisp sound made you jump as if it were gunfire, your cunt nearly drooling as you strained to look for Alastor in the pitch.

"Now then… 'can't see very well like this, can we?"

A lantern was lit just in front of your face, startling you. You realized that Alastor had all but held his breath to get closer to you, those same, silent footsteps deceiving you again. You couldn't find the words to speak, eyes wide with disbelief and desire as you stared back at Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Ahhh, yes… Finally managed to capture you, you tricky thing~," he mused as he flicked the tip of your nose. He chuckled when you wiggled it back and forth and recoiled, almost mimicking the animal he claimed you to be. "No, I don't think you're privy to know what I plan to do to you, with words… But, I can certainly show you." He seized your cheeks roughly with one hand, puckering your lips as he closed the distance between your bodies," But you might enjoy that too, wouldn't you?" Alastor's other hand ran dangerously up your trembling thigh, his face cool and collected as you were practically panting under his touch.

"P-Please…"

Alastor sends you a questioning look, before grinning maliciously," I didn't realize animals could speak, let alone have permission to." A harsh grip on your thigh anchored you to Alastor's pelvis, and you felt the familiar, hardened length on your core. You whined, obeying in silence as Alastor ground against you. His mouth fell open as he pressed his hips again, eager to seek some friction.

"You'd like me to use you, wouldn't you…? Breed this body like a deranged rabbit while you're helpless, defenseless under my touch…" Your mouth watered at the idea, your eyes fluttering as his hand shifted to palm your ass. His smirk was very telling, both hands moving to spread and palm your backside properly. His touch was slow and sensual on your trembling, supple body.

"Or maybe I should lay my claim here… Uncharted wilderness is quite thrilling to explore, don't you think?" His breath was so low it rattled his own ribcage. Without warning, a groan was torn from both of your throats as you bucked into Alastor's hips. Your eagerness was not unwelcomed...

Alastor was rewarded with another broken, wanton moan for his scandalous ideas and his wandering hands. He realized, in that moment, he was telling you exactly what he wanted to do to you. And, in that same moment, he decided that he didn't fucking care.

"Or maybe… maybe I can't wait--" Alastor starts to drag his lips down your form, kissing down your neck, then the valley of your breasts, then your abdominals… before landing at the hem of your still-concealed underwear. "I'm quite parched, love… Surely you won't mind if I quench my thirst, first?" Alastor's hands snake up your thighs as your nightgown is pushed up, revealing his current target: your clothed loins. His pupils shrink as he inhales, almost nuzzling into your inviting cunt. You whine weakly when he gazes up to you with mesmerized eyes; he was as bent out of shape as you were, and he was struggling to keep it concealed… Was he really going to enjoy himself, or sink his teeth in? Your heart stuttered at either possibility.

You nodded down to Alastor, wobbling as you spread your legs as far as you could. Your wrists were reminded of their predicament as you tried to move, thrashing in your restraints. You didn't speak, a firm nod your answer and consent. As Alastor kissed your awaiting heat, he shifted your legs onto his shoulders, alleviating the pressure on your feet. Had you not been so aroused, you would be heavily flustered by this gesture: a kindness yet something so brazen, even for your sweet beau.

He squeezed the meat of your thighs, humming as he licked a warm, wet stripe between your covered lips, the fabric of your panties already drenched with your arousal. You swore you saw his eyelids flutter as he sighed against you, diving in more earnestly. You wailed with frustration, unable to feel the full effect of his tongue just yet. You cared very little, however, as some attention was better than none. Your struggled against your restraints once more, warning hands digging into your thighs. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it simmered into a moan with each wave of pleasure. You wanted to scream as Alastor continued to tease you, unable to regulate your breathing or your moans.

He wasn't kidding; he wanted to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue dancing along your drenched panties wildly. He left no surface unmarked by his sinful, silver tongue. Alastor practically moaned around your sensitive bud, your mind reeling at the sensation as your hips bucked subconsciously. Whether it was because he was enjoying himself, or strictly to stimulate your clit, you weren't sure… but that little noise sent jolts of electricity right to your core.

Despite this: you were rewarded with a nip to your pearl, a whiney, breathy moan your weak rebuttal. You secretly hoped he would tear you apart, just to put you back together and break you again.

Your mind refocused as you felt your underwear being moved to the side, a bold, eager tongue now attending to your bare, puffy folds. You shrieked his name, whimpering from the stimulation. His tongue worked dexterously, licking and coddling every curve, dip, and crevice. Alastor's movements were now raw and unfiltered, MUCH to your delight.

Your legs caged his head, squeezing him closer to you as you felt your orgasm forming at an alarming rate. You couldn't help but mewl, head falling forward and limp as Alastor buried his face into your mound. His straight, rigid nose prodded your clit as he drove his tongue into your aching entrance, your taste and scent engulfing his thoughts. You let out a long, satisfied moan as he began to pump his long tongue in and out of you, working both his spit and your arousal in and out. The slick skin-on-skin squelching did nothing to calm the fire behind your eyes, toes popping with how violently they curled. Alastor continued his brutal pace, unable to get enough of your taste, scent, and special, little cries that were made just for him.

"F-fuhhh~ F-Fahhh--! Ahh! A-Al!" you cried, wanting desperately to use your words; you tried to give him a warning. You were near your climax, tears pricking your half-lidded eyes. You heard Alastor grunt into you, hands rubbing and kneading your thighs, as if asking you to crush his head more. You obliged, bucking into his mouth as your release started to approach. He had his mouth full, no doubt! Even so: you swore you heard Alastor moan and whisper into your folds hastily, suckling and swirling your clit to make you cum.

"F-Fuck-- Oh fuck, cum for me, then--"

Your body spasmed, head tossing back sharply,"F-Fuck, Al-- Al!!! Fuck, cumming--"

The dizzying affect swam over you swiftly, a scream that could be mistaken for pain filling the tiny shack you were in. The force and sudden rise in pleasure was overwhelming, almost maddening as Alastor wound you back down. You were gently set back onto your feet, legs shaking... All the while, his tongue never stopped, making you whine from overstimulation.

"A-Al… please, that's-- G-God! You can stop now-- Ahh~" You would have doubled over if your hands weren't restrained, your tongue lolling out from between your lips. The delightful slurping from below didn't cease, and seemed to become even more feverish. Alastor smiled up at you, parting for just a moment before licking his slick-covered lips.

" Am I not allowed to have seconds, dear?"

Your face seemed to catch on fire as you try to formulate a reply. However, Alastor's mouth knocked it out of you, head vacant as he continues to ravage you. He suckled on your abused clit, hands holding your hips in place as you tried to squirm away from his devious touch.

"F-Fuck! F-Fuck, Al, please--!!! T-Too much-- Ahhn-- T-Too much!!" you cried, your wrists chaffed against the rope that bound you.

Alastor did not relent, instead pressing you further into his face as he feasted upon you. His slurping and gulping nearly doubled with a grotesque volume, his eyes wide and watching you. You trembled under his intense gaze, rushing towards a very intense, unnecessary second orgasm.

"F-Fuck-- Alastor!! A-Al! Fuck, don't--" you whined, tears streaming down your face as the searing heat of the new orgasm washed over you," Pl-Please-- FUCK--"

Another shriek bounced off the walls as a hasty, overwhelming feeling flooded your loins. You winced with embarrassment as you felt a sudden gush of warmth coat your sex and thighs. Of course, Alastor was on the receiving end, but didn't seem to mind, his tongue only slowing when you were practically sobbing into the afterglow. Your legs completely gave out on you, wincing as your arms held your entire body aloft," F-Fuck… Fuuuuckkk…" you whined as your head spun, your eyes blurry from the pleased, hot tears that stained your face. A sweet, warm hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look Alastor's way.

"An absolutely breathtaking meal, darling…," Alastor panted, his eyes warm but still full of a lusty haze," Please… if you'll have me, I simply can't stop there."

When you gave him a weak but sure nod, Alastor nearly bolted to the secured rope, allowing you to descend to your knees. The warm wooden floor dug into your legs as you waited. Alastor was quick to resecure the rope before looping back to you. " If I were to ravage your pussy now, I'm afraid this little show might end early… So for both our sakes…" Alastor swiftly freed his aching cock, a hand lazily pumping his flushed member. Despite his aversion to touching himself, he sighed into the relief his hand provided.

"Won't you please… allow me to use your sweet lips instead, pet?"

How could you say no, with his words tumbling out sweetly?

With a speed that made Alastor dizzy, you beckoned him to you, tongue first. He allowed you to kiss the head of his flushed cock, eyes drinking in your expressions and your body. He had half a mind to cut the rope holding you hostage, but decided against it when you took him into your warm mouth. Alastor hastily covered his lips, stifling a groan as his other hand fisted your hair. You didn't mind, hollowing your cheeks as you took as much of him in as you could. His public hair tickled the very tip of your nose, his musk invading your senses. Had his mind been clearer, Alastor would've worried about your ability to breathe... but he had to focus on not throat fucking you first.

"Shit-- so warm--," Alastor groaned, his voice still muffled. Despite this, his words reached your perked ears, and causing your wet entrance to flutter around nothing. Alastor flinched, his hips spasming as you took him down to his base. He was jammed far into your throat, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax around his engorged member. A choked noise and a sputter erupted around his cock, a pleased moan eagerly following. As much as Alastor was enjoying himself, you would be lying if you said choking on Alastor's cock wasn't fun for you.

"Fuck, don't hurt yourself, darling-- I don't need-- FUCK--" The moment you started to bob your head, all words and worries flew out the window, the hand in your hair beginning to guide your descent. Alastor felt like he was being incinerated, his body electrified by your wriggling tongue and tight mouth. His restraint was beginning to wane, hair fanning across his sweat-slicked forehead," Fuck, you take this so well-- Take ME so well--"

Alastor panted, hardly able to keep his eyes open as you whined around him. His grip in your hair grew harsher, his hips beginning to stir.

"So malleable, so eager-- Good God--" Alastor's head fell forward as you created a delicious, tight suction around his dick. The sensation nearly drove him to bellowing, your name tumbling clumsily from his parched lips. He stared at the point where his cock disappeared into your mouth, then up to your teary eyes. Fresh tears spilled over your flushed cheeks, his words causing a shiver to run up your spine. Alastor, completely enthralled, felt his cock throb at the sight of your desperation, gritting his teeth," FUCK-- Damn it all--!"

Straining to reach out of sight, his hand ends up landing on a carving knife. Once he could grip it properly, he hastily swings above you. You flinch for a moment, before your arms relax and fall to your sides. You realized he cut you loose, but you had no time to dabble on the thought. Alastor's cock slid out of your mouth, your jaw setting into a neutral, open shape. Alastor started to stroke himself hastily, using his other hand to gesture in a circle," Turn around-- on all fours. NOW."

You didn't hesitate when that dark, brisk command was thrown your way, clambering like a newborn deer. You turn to look back at him, wagging your hind in a teasing way," Don't want to waste a drop, huh?" you teased, a coy smile on your face. Alastor laughed, breathy and high, as he fell to his knees. He easily towered over you as he aligned himself to your dribbling, plush entrance," You know me too well, love."

The plunge of his cock nearly knocked you onto your stomach, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. To your pleasant surprise, Alastor had bottomed out inside of you. There was a slight discomfort from the sudden intrusion (one that wasn't unwelcome) as a strong arm wrapped around your torso.

" B-Bear with me. I'll fill you up soon, dear--"

You nearly cried as Alastor began to move, hips already hammering into your most intimate place at an animalistic rate. You were truly fucking like rabbits, unable to do anything but chase your own desires. Alastor buried his face into your neck, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his grunts. You were unable to stifle your own, the sounds of your ecstasy bouncing around the room. The steady, rhythmic squelching of your privates were almost drowned out by the steady plap, plap, plap against your ass with every brutish press. You were getting close... And as Alastor's voice rose with yours, you realized he couldn't be fa behind. You allowed yourself to fall forward, cheek smashed against the grain of the floorboards as you arched your back," F-Fuck… fuck me, Alastor-- Hah-- Oh god, please--" Your eyes slammed shut as Alastor's pace only increased, his hips angling in a way that stroked your g-shot with every press.

"Yes, love-- fuck yes, you want this? Harder? Faster? Fuck--" He accented your mental demands with more energy, a hand cupping your bouncing, right breast as the other caressed your stuffed pussy. He sought your puffy pearl at the apex of your cunt, and drew quick, deliberate circles into it.

" Fuck, fuck! I need you to cum-- Want you to cum--," Alastor begged, his breath hot and heavy in your ear," O-One more time, please-- then I'll make sure to fuck my-- Oh fuck! I'll fuck you full of my cum--"

Your mouth hung open, drool pooling under your cheek as you felt your orgasm building for the third time that night, your hands clawing into the wooden floor," F-Fahh-- ahh! Yes!!! Fuck me, shit-- fuck me stupid, Al!!!" you wailed, eyes flying open as he pinched your clit. You clamped resolutely around his cock, your body locking up-- Yes, yes, just a few more thrusts--

"FUCK!!!"

You came with a wail and a tremor, your lungs screaming for air as it was fucked right out of you. Alastor, watching and feeling your body unravel under him, was unable to last any longer. He pressed his forehead into your shoulder, humping once, twice, thrice until he delivered a deep, devastating thrust. Your name became a debauched mantra as you milked his cock, spurts of hot, white seed painting your core. You trembled as you felt it being fucked into you, Alastor sighing into your shoulder.

"Sh-Shit… Shit, I love you. God, I fucking love you--" Alastor cursed into your shoulder, his hips stirring again," I-I can't stop-- fuck, you keep sucking me back in--"

You whined as Alastor started to rut into you again, his hardened length not wavering in the slightest. Like an animal in heat, he proceeded to fuck you through his own climax, eager to fill you up again," F-Fuck, I'm sorry-- You feel too good. Fuck, this is--"

You did your best to look behind you, lips clumsily kissing his temple, his forehead-- whatever you could reach," H-Hahn… hah, it's okay! Pl-Please, use me… F-Fuck, you can use me again! I wanna feel you cum in me again, Al!"

Alastor needed little convincing, his overstimulation outweighed by his desire. The cries that dripped from your mouth were sweeter than the honey and slick between your legs," G-God-- God, mon amour-- FUCK!"

You were smiling deliriously as Alastor used your sensitive cunt to chase another high, head foggy and vision blurry. You could do nothing but whine and shake as you were not only fucked through your orgasm, but felt your loins boil with an impending, new release. You couldn't say a word as each thrust pushed a scream from your diaphragm, Alastor's own throes of pleasure mirroring yours. The both of you made eye contact, and for the first time in a long time you saw… Alastor wasn't smiling?

Alastor's brow was knit together, face hard and yet so flushed as his mouth hung open in a wide, desperate "O". You felt your walls flutter around Alastor, the sight almost as beautiful as his trademark smile. Hastily, Alastor pulled you up by your throat, squeezing as you were forced to face away… The growl that was rumbled into your ear did little to slow down your peak.

The smile that danced across your face was unmatched; you had gotten Alastor to completely melt into you, unable to keep his 'armor' on. He was drunk off of your body, and he was unable to hide just how much he wanted both of you to cum. You mentally cheered, unable to shake the feeling of victory as that tension in your belly snapped. You unleash a broken, primal scream as Alastor fills your womb with another load, his semen spilling out from your writhing cunt. Completely out of breath, both of your collapse to the floor. You were left gasping and wheezing as Alastor sunk into you deeper, fully sheathed and pressing into your cervix. The sensation just made you whimper into your afterglow, lips twitching as you both wound back down…

You both lay on the floor like this for a few moments-- hell, maybe for an hour-- trying to regain your bearings. Trembling hands caressed your body, while your own reached up to pet and stroke at soft, chestnut brown hair. A tired chuckle fills your ears as Alastor closes his eyes, a content sigh rolling off his chest.

"You never fail to amaze me. And, of course… you never fail to make me cum either," Alastor admits, a sheepish blush creeping across his face. You nod, your laughter just as meek," Y-Yeah… fuck, you… you did all the work," you quipped, feeling Alastor shake his head. He kissed at your shoulders, trailing them up your neck and to your heated cheeks.

"Darling, if anything deserves the praise, it would be your nethers… She put on quite a show." You lightly elbowed him in the ribs, the both of you laughing like teenagers," Or maybe your brain… for coming up with a delicious roleplaying scenario?"

You hum for a moment to contemplate, before sighing," Fair enough… I'll take that," you profess, looking up and back towards your exhausted partner," Alastor?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you again, for all of this... and-- sorry about slapping you earlier," you chuckle, your face burning under Alastor's sweet gaze. He seemed entirely unbothered, shrugging," Ahh, nothing but a passionate act in the heat of the moment. Think nothing of it-- as long as you don't mind me slapping this again~" You squeaked as your ass received a playful tap, like a friendly, sportsman’s slap of approval.

"Good job~"

You rolled underneath Alastor, his cock finally freed when you sprawled out onto your back. You invited him to lay his head on your chest, which he gladly accepted. You could feel the tension in his body dissipate the moment he laid down, his eyes fluttering closed. You brushed the hair away from his face, giggling at the adorable sight of your dopey, sleepy lover.

"Alastor... don't fall asleep on me, now. We still need to get back to the cabin." Alastor groaned, brow furrowing. Stubborn as a bull, he nuzzled into your chest face-first, sighing as your heartbeat lulled him," Just a few more minutes, dear… I don't believe either of us could stand, even if we wanted to."

You hummed, patting Alastor on the head as you conceded," Touché… But I blame you for that."

"And not our heated chase, dearest?"

You snort as you try not to laugh, belly aching from holding back," Fuck, that's fair... Maybe we can play a little closer to home next time?" You smile down at your partner as he adjusts himself. Finally, he came up for air as his chin settled between your breasts, his eyelids still heavy from exhaustion.

"Oh sweetheart, where would the fun be in that? You know I love a good chase~"

He moved further up, caging your body with his as he gave you a tender, quick kiss," You can run, hide, do whatever you like... as long as we both have fun, that's all that matters– our legs be damned..." You can't help but nod and laugh, pushing Alastor back into your bosom. Your sleepy beau can't help but hum in approval, your chest a warm, welcoming pillow.

"You're right... that's all that matters. But really, I-- I love you, Alastor. I can’t help but thank you again. For all of this…" Your partner stills for a moment, a dark, intense flush coming across his face and neck. You can't help but laugh as he hides his face into your chest again, sighing dramatically," I love you too, mon ange... For now, I'll settle for saying it, as I'm far too tired to show you again right now..."

You chuckle as you crane your neck down, kissing his crown before letting your head thunk against the floor," You already show me more than enough, baby... More than you know."

The silence is calming, even comfortable as the two of you find yourselves drifting off to sleep. Thankfully, the autumn heat and the union of your bodies was more than enough to keep you warm. Both of you allowed yourselves just one, brief nap while the crickets and cicadas harmonized outside the window... A perfect, peaceful conclusion to a passionate, relentless hunt.

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #human!alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagine #human!alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #female reader #alastor x female reader #GOD THIS TOOK TOO LONG HAHAHAHA #ieatcocoa I hope this is what you wanted and like #I get so nervous sometimes dhoudhodhdoidjd #but I wanted to keep this a surprise for you #hdohsosihsisoisjsvdiodius #IF ITS NOT YOUR BIRTHDAY IT IS NOW

359 notes · View notes

spookwyrdie · 3 days

Text

.Riled Up.

{part 1}{part 2}{part3}

Bang Chan x Reader x Han Jisung

word count: 6.2k

summary: Jisung arrives at your front door and Chan goes over a few ground rules for the evening. He's feeling a little extra bossy tonight.

genre: smut, power play

warnings: adult dialogue, sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy, threesome, piv sex, oral (both m and f receiving), edging, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, a little M/M

a/n: Here it is! This ended up being waaaay longer than I anticipated, so thank you for your patience lil babies <3

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The words bounced around Jisung’s mind as he quickly turned the key in his ignition, roaring his car to life.

“You have ten minutes to be at my front door… If you want another demonstration,” Chan had said and then the line went dead. Anticipation flooded Jisung’s veins as his heart pounded.

After the first moan he heard from you on the phone, he felt his cock twitch and immediately got up to leave the club, nearly jogging to his car. He couldn’t be around the thumping bass while he was trying to focus on the little whimpers that would leave your throat while Chan fucked you with his mouth. He needed to be in an enclosed space so he could really focus on picturing your face when you were mewling. Jisung could hear the slick noises your cunt was making in the background - it made him feel feral.

It was bad enough that he got hard on the dance floor from you grinding into his thigh. It had started out innocent enough, just helping a friend out while she tried to coax her man to the dance floor. But then you went from zero to sixty, turning around and rolling your hips back into him, pressing your ass directly into his cock. He loved Chan, one of his best friends, always quick with good banter, but he couldn’t ignore how he’s always thought you were dripping with sensuality. It would do him no good to pine after a woman so wrapped up in his friend, so he compartmentalized that feeling so he could enjoy your company. But then you pressed your body up against his and his grip on that boundary loosened. It was so easy to help you out, to challenge Chan, by getting caught up in the way you danced with him.

The eye contact he had made with Chan was electric, taking the sensation of you grinding on him and ramping up the voltage to a dangerous level. His eyes met Chan’s across the room and it was like the three of you were the only people in the room. He was obsessed with the way he had made Chan’s jaw clench while he watched you rocking your hips on Jisung’s thigh. The way the perfume on your neck lingered in his nose, the way your lip caught between your teeth, fuck… it was all too much.

Being on the other line of that phone call had been the exact type of torture Jisung loves. His cock was straining against the material of his pants while he drove, images of you on his thigh with Chan glaring at him over your shoulder flashed through his mind. Every new little noise of yours that floated out through his phone’s speaker had him pulsating. He zoned out while on his way over to the house you shared with Chan, wondering what the night had in store for the three of you.

He arrived, pulling into the driveway, and killed the engine. He sat for a moment, steeling his nerves before he built up the courage to approach the house and ring the doorbell.

Chan answered the door after a moment, cocking an eyebrow and giving Jisung a cocky grin. “It’s been exactly 9 minutes and 43 seconds. Good job following directions.”

Jisung rolled his eyes at the older man, a thrill running through him at the repartee still present from earlier in the night. “Well, it sounded like it might be more fun than the club, anyway,” he replied.

“I bet it did,” Chan said, opening the door wide and gesturing for Jisung to enter. He had a glass with one finger of whiskey in it, swirling around as he waved his arm. “Follow me.”

~~~

The flickering in the fireplace had you in a trance as you came back into your body. You sat on the couch, tucked away in the corner cushions of the sectional, reeling after Chan had you coming undone in the back of a limo such a short time ago. Chan had gently half-walked, half-carried you into the house, sat you down, and fetched a cold water bottle for you that you were currently sipping. He was currently massaging your wrists where his belt had bitten into your skin, leaving behind red marks and a lovely sting. His eyes were full of affection as he gently rubbed over your sore wrists, murmuring little praises here and there.

“You did really well on the drive home, sweet thing,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips and planting small kisses on your inner wrist. “How are you feeling?”

“So good,” you hummed as you sank into the couch.

“Do you feel up to playing a little more tonight?”

Chan’s eyes appraised you while you assessed yourself. Having one incendiary orgasm in the back of a limo on his tongue was amazing, but the dull throb was still present between your legs. You felt like that was only a taste of what was to come, so you just needed a moment to catch your breath before the next onslaught of sensation.

“Yeah,” you reply, pulling him towards you by the hand, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. You poured all the gratitude and emotion you felt tonight into that kiss. “I still need you.”

“Excellent. Cumming on my face once isn’t enough retribution for your little show this evening,” Chan said, pulling away slightly, dipping back into the dominant energy from earlier that evening. “We’re just waiting for the rest of our party to join us before I finish the lesson.”

At that, the doorbell rang, your eyes wide, arousal churning in your belly. You had fully spaced out when Chan had invited - no, commanded - Jisung to come over. Truthfully, you hadn’t really expected him to show up. But now that you knew he was here, that ache between your legs became more persistent.

For a while now, you’ve had an attraction to Jisung that you mostly ignored. You enjoyed how he and Chan would bounce off one another, they always made for an entertaining conversation. You usually kept your eyes from wandering too far, but you weren’t blind. Jisung was hot, with his broad shoulders and small waist. He had let his hair get shaggy over the last few months and you had been wanting to sink your fingers into it for a while now.

When the two of you discussed bringing in a third sometime, Jisung’s name got floated, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it since then. Tonight was an accidental catalyst, provoking Chan’s possessive nature while testing the waters with Jisung. The memory of your hips rocking against his thigh while Chan trailed kisses up your neck hit you suddenly with a bolt of desire, ringing around in your chest and building deep in your core. You shift your legs as Jisung walks into the living room with Chan, and feel how slick you were already just from thinking about that moment on the dance floor.

Chan has a hand around Jisung’s shoulder as they amble in. “Sweet thing, I was just going over some ground rules for us to all follow for tonight.” He stops Jisung in front of the massive sectional couch you’re sitting on, sliding the younger’s jacket from his shoulders. Chan patted his shoulder and squeezed.

“The most important rule of the night is that you both do what I say. Agreed?” Chan says as he walks around the back of the couch, slinging the jacket over the back cushions.

You murmur a reply and Jisung nods silently.

“Voices, I need to HEAR you.”

“Yes, Chan,” the two of you say in near unison.

“Better,” he clips out. He meanders around the other side of the couch towards you, offering you a hand to stand. You wobble to your knees, still finding your balance, and he pulls you across the room towards the one armchair in front of the fire. “Ji, take a seat on the couch. Get comfortable.”

Jisung moves to take the seat you were just occupying, studying the two of you across the room in the flickering light. There’s a tension in his features, something sultry but a little nervous painting his features. Chan pulls you into his embrace, caressing up your arms. Gently grabbing your face, he draws you close for a kiss. His lips meet yours, tender yet filled with heat. You melt into him, his hands wandering to the back of your neck and up into your hair. His short nails dig into your scalp rhythmically, a soothing touch to match the fire that burned through you. You know beyond measure that anything that happens tonight is built on a solid foundation of love and safety.

Chan pulls away, taking you by the shoulders and turns you to face Jisung. Standing behind you, his hands roam your body, fingers trailing along your outline. He’s the one presenting you to Jisung this time, a mirror image of your position earlier this evening. You’re like putty in his hands, malleable and warm. His eyes are on Jisung’s, taunting him with your body.

His fingers slip to the back of your dress, pulling the zipper down bit by bit, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. Jisung’s eyes are glued to your form, a faint blush on his cheeks as you watch him wet his lips with his pink tongue. Chan glides his hands under the straps of your dress and edges the fabric down your shoulders. He’s peeling your dress off of you slowly until it falls to the floor in a heap. You are fully naked now since your dress couldn’t accommodate a bra and your panties are still in Chan’s pocket.

Jisung’s eyes widen as he drinks in the sight of your body. Chan’s hands slide up from your waist to cup your breasts and grips onto them. His fingers brush against your nipples, stopping to roll them between his fingers, having you gasping at the touch. One hand moves to your neck while the other snakes down to your mound, teasing and caressing over the neat thatch of hair framing your cunt. The way his fingers dance along your skin have you shaking in his grip.

He maneuvers your body over to the armchair and sits with you on his lap, on display for Jisung. You can feel how hard his cock is, still trapped in his pants, pressing into your skin where you’re perched on his lap. Chan hooks his chin over your shoulder, hand drifting towards your glistening folds, and he smiles lazily at the younger man across the room. “She’s already had one orgasm tonight, but look how eager she is for another.”

He spreads your lips as you whimper, clenching around nothing. That hot bolt of embarrassment shoots through you again, but quickly morphs into lust when you see the look on Jisung’s face. He’s taking in your fucked out state, his mouth open in awe. Chan’s fingers start drawing lazy circles around your clit, barely applying any pressure, but just enough to chase his touch with your hips. His other hand snakes to the back of your head, clutching your hair again.

“You had my mouth earlier, now I want yours,” Chan hisses low in your ear. You nod feverishly and slide onto the floor on your knees, twisting your body so you’re facing Chan. You are perfectly slotted between his thighs, waiting for instruction.

“Well? You know how buttons work,” he says, full of snark. You scramble to untuck his button up shirt and undo his pants, focused on getting his cock into your mouth as fast as possible. Chan grabs your hands when he notices they’re shaking a little, smoothing his thumbs over your knuckles. You meet his eye and in a calm voice, he says, “Slow down. We’re only just getting started, sweet thing.”

You nod, take a deep breath, and unbutton his pants. You pull them down just past his hips, enough to dip your hand under the waistband of his underwear and pull him out. His neglected cock is a throbbing red. The tip leaks a little when you finally wrap your hands around him. You smile eagerly, looking up to Chan for permission.

He nods. You lick him from base to tip slowly. Hovering over the tip by a few millimeters, you drip saliva off of your tongue onto him. He hisses through clenched teeth as you slowly sink your hot mouth onto him, swirling your tongue around his tip. You moan at the taste of him, salt and musk, something so essentially Chan. He grunts and his hips buck into your mouth at your moan reverberating through him.

“Fffuck, so good,” he grits out. “Take me all in.”

You feel him twitch in your mouth, bobbing up and down his shaft slowly. Relaxing your throat, you take him further in, your hand holding on to whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. Drool spills out of the sides of your mouth, the noises coming from your mouth getting sloppier. Chan’s hips start matching your rhythm, little grunts escaping his throat as you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks. He groans at the pressure in the vacuum of your mouth.

Suddenly his hips still, you look up at him through your lashes. He’s glaring across the room at Jisung. The younger man’s hand is on his cock, palming himself over his jeans.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

“But, hyung…”

“No.” Chan bites out. “Hands off until I say so.”

Jisung clenches his jaw but does as he’s told. His hands rest on the tops of his thighs, fingers gripping into the fabric.

“Good,” Chan says, gripping onto your hair once again. He pulls you gently off of his cock with a lewd pop! and takes hold of your jaw, making you look up at him.

“I think he deserves a little treat for being such a good listener, don’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, batting your eyelashes at him.

Chan grins wide, his dimples showing. He runs his tongue over his teeth briefly as something wicked tinges his eyes. You look up at him eagerly. With your chin in his hand, he pulls your wet panties out of his pocket. His fingers press on the side of your cheeks, popping your mouth open, his eyes glowing with affection and pride at your easy submission. He loves knowing exactly how keen you are to put your full trust in him.

He takes the elastic and presses it into your mouth.

“Bite.”

Your teeth grab onto the garment, still soaked in your essence. You’re still looking at Chan expectantly, waiting for his next command.

“Take those over to Ji,” he says. “On your knees.”

You turn, eyes locking onto Jisung’s face, as you start to crawl across the floor to him. Being on your knees makes you feel more animal than human, a feral lust growing with every move. Hips swaying back and forth, you note how Jisung’s gaze follows the movement like a hypnotist’s pocket watch. When you get to his lap, you slot yourself in between his thighs, still holding the panties between your teeth.

“Jisung, hold out your hand.”

The younger man’s eyes flick between your face and Chan’s across the room. He places his palm up, cupping it like he’s waiting to hold water in his palm.

“Drop.”

Chan is stern from across the room, his unemotional commanding voice sending a shiver of pleasure through you. You can hear the dominance in his tone, thankful you’re already on your knees. You drop the wet panties into Jisung’s waiting hand. He closes his fingers over them with a gasp and brings them to his nose. At the scent of you, his eyes flutter shut and a deep groan rumbles through his chest. When he opens his eyes again, they’re full of undiluted hunger as he pockets the panties.

You turn to look over your shoulder at Chan. He’s still in the chair, lazily pumping his cock in his fist. “Why don’t you sit on Jisung’s lap, sweet thing. He needs it.”

You crawl up Jisung’s body, his eyes never leaving your form. You rest a knee on either side of him, straddling his body. You grip onto his shoulders as you slowly sit yourself down. Resting at the crux of your thighs, you can feel the swell of his cock pressing eagerly against the fabric of his jeans.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly bashful at your nudity against his clothed body.

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs, a small smile gracing his heart shaped lips. “Can I touch you?”

You nod.

“Can I touch her, hyung?” Jisung’s eyes never leave yours as he asks.

Chan’s eyes are bright as he grins, “Yes, good job asking.”

Jisung puts his hands on your thighs as he drifts them up towards your hips. Snaking around your frame, he grips onto your ass, yanking your body towards him a few inches. You lean against him closer, knocked off balance by his pull. In unison, you both moan at the drag of your core against his cock. The distance between your faces close, your eyes flit between his gaze and his open mouth, ready to descend onto him.

“Can I kiss him, Chan? Please,” you whine, desperate to feel Ji’s lips on yours. The silent pause in the room is overwhelming as you feel Jisung’s hands kneading into your flesh.

“Sure, sweet thing. Show him how good you feel.”

You surge forward as Jisung meets you halfway, closing that small distance between your mouths. Your teeth bump together in the frenzy, making you giggle into his mouth. You whisper a quick apology as Jisung slides his hand into your hair to ease your face away from his for a moment, smiling against your lips. He holds you steady while he goes in again for a kiss, slower and more steady, slanting his lip on yours with a confident determination. He pulls your bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling lighty, smirking with his half smile when he hears you gasp.

Your hands grasp at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up in your hands and pulling. The idea of his skin on yours has you feeling hot, needing to feel him as soon as possible.

“Shirt. Off. Now,” you grunt out, your brain is too preoccupied to form a full sentence.

He chuckles as he pulls away, tugging his shirt off quickly. His wavy hair falls into his eyes as you grab his face to kiss him again. You lick lightly against his lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss. He obliges, tilting his head and gliding his tongue against yours.

Jisung’s hands roam around your body, trying to learn your shape from feeling alone. One hand grabs the back of your neck as the other finds your hip again as he encourages you to grind into him again. The pressure he applies to your neck as he kneads has the tendons and muscles around your spine jolting with a shock of desire, the sensitive nerves zing! through your body. You lean fully into him now, breasts pressed up against his chest, mewling when his hips roll up into yours, nudging a blissful friction against your clit. Grinding your hips down onto him, your arousal coats the seam of his jeans as you find a rhythm that leaves both of you panting.

“Fuck, y/n,” Jisung grunts into your mouth before he starts kissing along your jaw. “Better than I ever imagined.”

“You’ve imagined this?” you ask, hips still rolling against his.

“Dreamed of it once or twice,” he murmurs against your skin.

He licks a stripe down your neck, biting down just below your ear, your hips shuddering against him. Every part of your body that is touching his is on fire, a tingling erupting on your skin as your nipples brush against his as you rut against his clothed cock. You’re getting lost in the sensation, groaning at the heat of his mouth as he sucks against your neck. You speed up your hips until you feel another pair of hands on your waist.

Chan looms behind you, slowing your hips down and directing the flow of motion against Jisung. Leaning towards your ear, he whispers, “Not yet, sweet thing.”

“Hyung, wait-” the younger man starts to say as you lean into Chan’s touch, still rolling your hips into Jisung.

“Ji, you’re wearing far too many clothes. Y/n, help him out.”

You drop down to your knees again, using Chan as a support for your shaking legs. Your hands fly to the jeans, the seam covering his zipper damp with your arousal, giggling as you undo his pants. Tugging down on his remaining clothes, Jisung’s cock springs free from its confines, slapping wetly against his lower belly. You lean forward to get a taste, but Chan winds his fingers into your hair, holding your head a few inches away from Jisung’s cock. You stick your tongue out as far as it will reach, trying to touch him, to lick against him.

A loud slap echoes in the air as Chan brings his hand down on your ass, your hips spasming beneath him. Another slap on the other cheek has you whining, stinging pleasure and blooming pain light up in your core. You’re left clenching around nothing again, arching your back, another wave of hot arousal pumping through your abdomen.

“You have to ask if you want a taste.” Chan grits out. “Do you want to taste Ji?”

You can’t even speak, you just moan in response and nod. “P-please.”

“Ji, do you want to feel what her hot little mouth can do?”

Jisung’s cock twitches against his belly as his hips shake. “God, yes,” he gasps out.

Chan still holds your hair, not letting you move just yet. He takes his time, suspended in this moment of control.

“I bet Ji would taste so good on your tongue, it looks like his cock would feel heavy as he pulsates in your mouth.”

You raise your eyes to meet Chan’s pleadingly.

“And Ji, I know how soft and wet her mouth is. But when she sucks down hard? Fucking heaven.”

Jisung whines this time, his hips bucking up. The tip of his cock coming within millimeters of your mouth. Chan just laughs, gripping hard on your hair before releasing you suddenly.

“Go ahead, give it a try,” he says, pulling his own shirt off.

You take no time pouncing on Jisung’s lap, engulfing him with your mouth, taking him in as far as you can. He nearly cries, choking on a moan from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hands rest on his hip bones, pressing him into the couch as he tries to thrust up into your mouth.

“FUCK!” he yells, as your nails dig into his flesh. His hands fly out, grasping onto your hair as he bucks into your mouth, legs quivering beneath you. You whimper from the pull on your scalp, eyes fluttering closed at the intensity of his grip and the taste of him. Jisung’s hips start to stutter, arms flying up to grab the back of the couch, babbling about how hot your mouth is as you suck him down. Chan’s hand suddenly snatches the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you away from Jisung’s cock with a wet pop! A string of saliva still connects your tongue to the tip of his cock.

“HYUNG, WHAT THE FU-” Jisung starts to yell, cock bobbing as his hips chase after your mouth.

“Hush.” Chan barks out, silencing him. He pulls you up to a standing position. “Remember the most important rule of the night?”

Jisung sits up, crossing his arms. “We do whatever you say,” he says, huffing, still trying to catch his breath. “But you didn’t say anything that time!”

Chan just laughs. “I know. Isn’t it fun?”

He goes to sit on the couch next to Jisung, taking your hand and pulling you down on his lap. Chan’s fully naked behind you, adjusting himself so his cock sits right between your folds. He pulls your back against his chest, leaning you back so your head rests on his shoulder. You loll your head to the side and look at Jisung, reaching out a grabby hand for him to come closer.

“Ji, come here and admire her,” Chan beckons. Jisung moves over closer to your body, but Chan takes an arm and pulls him in even tighter, leaning up against Chan’s side. “She needs another kiss, I think.”

This time, Jisung cups your face as he presses his lips against yours again. Instead of a feverish heat, it’s tender, more curious. Your tongues explore each other’s mouths, drawing breathy whimpers from your throat. Chan lifts Jisung’s hand that’s cupping your face and places it on your breast. He squeezes the soft mound, grazing over your nipple. It makes your hips spasm and a grunt leaves Chan’s throat, your cunt sliding over his cock.

Chan’s hips thrust upwards, slipping through your wet folds and dragging along your swollen clit. You cry out into Jisung’s mouth. Chan’s hips shudder with effort, he loves taking his time even if it drives you both insane. The blunt head of his cock slides against your clit, building that friction again, your essence mixing with the arousal leaking out of his tip. He groans against your skin, biting into your shoulder as his hand drifts down, fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves. He draws lazy circles around your clit while Jisung starts to kiss down your neck towards your breasts. He flicks his tongue over your nipple, looking up at you, giving you that cocky sideways grin again.

You’re writhing under their combined torture - Jisung teasing your nipples and Chan teasing your clit. You feel your muscles flutter with an edge of frustration, clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Chan, fucking…please,” you gasp, picking your head up from his shoulder to meet his gaze.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you whine, hips grinding down on his cock, still teasing you relentlessly.

“Well,” he says, his voice a little strained. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He lifts your hips a few inches higher so his tip catches on your opening. Readjusting, he sinks you slowly onto him, groaning through a clenched jaw. You’re so slick and warm, the squeeze of your walls almost enough to do him in right then and there. He stills beneath you, allowing you a moment to adjust to the stretch and for him to catch his breath so he doesn’t immediately bust inside you. The way you’re whimpering and rocking against him is almost too much.

“Jisung, kiss her. Shut her up,” he grits out.

Jisung obliges, shifting back up to your face and capturing your lips again, biting down on your bottom lip sadistically. Chan focuses on finding your rhythm, starting off at an excruciatingly slow pace. Each flick of his hips drives into you forcefully. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping wetly as your hips meet his. He bottoms out in you, groaning against your neck as he holds you tight in his embrace.

He tears your face away from Jisung, pulling your lips to his, stealing any air you had left with the way his cock plunges into you. Jisung pulls your face back towards him, taking your lips and tongue for his own again. Chan growls at this, fisting his hand into the younger man’s hair, pulling him off of you and up to his eye level. Jisung’s tongue is pressed against the side of his open mouth, hooded eyes appraising Chan.

“What, hyung? Isn’t it fun?” Jisung smirks, echoing Chan’s earlier sentiment.

Chan’s jaw clenches for a split second before crashing his lips against the Jisung’s. Their own battle of hot annoyance mixed with pent up lust and power ignite between the two. Tongues lash out, groaning into each other's mouths. You fuck yourself onto Chan’s cock while your hand reaches out to wrap around Jisung’s. He thrusts himself into your fist while his lips are still wrapped around Chan’s, biting down on the elder’s plush bottom lip.

Chan pulls Jisung’s face away again, both panting into each other's mouths.

“Look at her doing all the work for the three of us,” nodding towards you writhing against him while your hand fists around Jisung’s cock. “Put your mouth to better use, Ji.”

He lightly pushes Jisung’s head away, motioning down towards where Chan is still inside you. Jisung drops to the floor, shuffling closer to your cunt as Chan resumes thrusting into you.

Jisung drifts his hands up your thighs to your cunt, gently pulling your lips open and watching Chan’s cock disappear inside of you. The way he’s awestruck at the sight of your glistening cunt greedily sucking Chan in has you trembling.

“Jisung,” you whine. “Make me cum.”

He wastes no time diving right into you, mouth first, groaning at the taste of you. You whine pitifully at the feel of his tongue. He laps at your clit, licking up all of your juices that have mixed with Chan’s. His tongue swirls around your cunt and you begin to feel yourself tightening, your muscles clenching around Chan. It’s hard to remember to breathe when white hot pleasure is pulsing through you with every flick of Jisung’s tongue. Chan is groaning in your ear as Ji’s tongue dips down and runs along the underside of Chan, licking a stripe from cock to cunt.

Chan’s thrusts get sloppier and he slips out of you, the blunt head of his cock nudges harshly against your clit in such a way that has you moaning. Jisung wraps his hand around Chan’s cock and takes the tip into his mouth, flicking his tongue on the sensitive nerve on the underside of his tip, teasing him mercilessly. This time, Chan whines, bucking up toward Jisung before the younger pulls him out of his mouth. He grins up at both of you as he pushes Chan back inside you.

Your eyes roll back as Chan pounds into you, chasing his own high, Jisung’s tongue still lashing against your clit. You’re not sure when you started crying, but tears stream down your face, desperate to come undone, overwhelmed by the way these two men handle your body with deft precision. You feel yourself brought to the edge again, pleading them to push you over.

“Cha-Chan,” you whimper, “c-can I cum?”

His hips start to stutter again at how pathetic you sound, crying out his name like that. Still, in his desperation to fill you up, he finds it in himself to drag it out a little longer.

“You forgot…” he grits out, each word staccato as he slams himself into you. “Say please.”

“PLEASE!” You wail.

“Yes!” is all he can get out before your vision goes white, your body convulsing against his with a pitiful cry. Jisung uses this opportunity to pull your clit into the heat of his mouth, sucking hard against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You feel the orgasm crash through you, gushing on Chan’s cock and Jisung’s tongue, heart beating erratically as they fuck you through it, fingers tangling in Jisung’s hair. Chan loses himself in the way your muscles clench down on him and the way Jisung is drooling on his cock, he groans loudly in your ear as he spills inside of you. You go limp in his grasp.

His hips still as he feels some of his cum drip out of where you’re still connected. His cock is softening, spent from the exertion, your body took everything from him this evening. Jisung tentatively presses his tongue against you, sending a jolt of overstimulation through you. He tastes the mix of you and Chan together as the two of you above him catch your breath.

Chan gently slides his cock out of you, his seed leaking out of you slowly. Your whole body is buzzing, you feel like you’re drifting through puffy clouds. Jisung whines at the sight of you dripping onto Chan’s softening cock. The elder laughs, spreading your lips wide so Jisung can get a better look.

“Poor Jisung,” Chan teases. “You and your poor little cock still haven’t gotten to feel her yet.”

“Hyung…” Jisung whines, a blush creeping up his cheeks again.

“Well, if you want my seconds,” Chan says, petting the younger’s head lovingly, “You better ask her if she’s up for it.”

You look down at Jisung, big brown eyes searching yours, pleading.

“Y/n…”

“Yes, come here,” you say, reaching out your hands again. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

Jisung crawls up your body, pressing eager kisses up your torso and chest before settling his hips between your thighs, cock twitching against your swollen clit. You pull his face to yours, sloppily kissing him, too exhausted to do much else. Chan’s hands find your thighs and lift them, pulling them towards your chest and bending you in half. Jisung ruts against your clit, but you’re so sensitive, you whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me, Jisung,” you gasp. “Fill me up.”

He groans, the tip of his cock finding your dripping entrance, and pushing in. He bottoms out all the way, the combination of your arousal and Chan having stretched you open perfectly, has Jisung enveloped in the warmth of your core all the way to his pelvis. The way his cock drags against your walls as he nuzzles his face against your neck has you approaching your peak again.

“Y/n… I’m n-not gonna last long…” he whines against you.

One of Chan’s hands sneaks down between your bodies, gently rubbing circles around your aching clit. He whispers filthy praise into your ear.

“That’s it, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Show Jisung how good he makes you feel.”

You cry out, bucking against Jisung as his hips speed up, gripping onto your body as he hammers into you. A new sensation builds from this angle, a pressure building in your cunt.

“FUCK, y/n!” Jisung cries as his hips stutter, slamming into you with force.

Your second orgasm bursts forth, this time squirting out onto Jisung. The slick, wet sounds combined with your screams fills the room. Your whole body trembles as your muscles spasm around Jisung’s cock. He collapses against you, his hips stilling as he spurts inside of you. Your eyes roll shut and you take a deep shuddering breath, sucking oxygen into your lungs. Your body still tremors, the aftershocks of your orgasm jolting through your muscles every few seconds. You’re floating above your body right now as you’re sandwiched between the two bodies of the men you adore.

After a few moments, Chan groans, “You two are CRUSHING me.”

All you can do is hum as Jisung melts into a puddle on the floor, body half slung over the edge of the couch. He looks up at the two of you with a dopey, fucked out smile on his heart shaped lips.

Chan slides out carefully from beneath you, rearranging your limbs on the couch so you’re laying down, propped up with a few pillows. He picks up Jisung from the edge of the couch, basically a puddle of a human being, and coaxes him into your arms. The younger man melts into your embrace, pushing his face into your chest with a sigh. Chan presses a light kiss to each of your foreheads.

“I’m going to go grab us some water,” he grins. “You two need to rehydrate.”

He plods away as you and Jisung ground yourselves in the moment, slowing down your heart rates. You rub your fingers sluggishly up and down his back, your fingers finding purchase in his hair. Raking your nails over his scalp, he groans into the soft touch, planting small kisses into your skin. Eventually he raises his head to look at you.

“How was that?”

“So, so good,” you murmur, your voice gravelly from exertion. “I’m getting a bit chilly though.”

The sheen of sweat against your naked bodies was finally cooling off. Even by the heat from the fire, now embers in the fireplace, you were relaxed enough that a shiver ran through you. Jisung lifts his head, finding his shirt and jacket, and drags them sleepily off the back of the couch to cover you. The clothes land directly on your head and you both giggle. He pulls them gently off your face, an exhausted gummy smile greeting you. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, your heart fluttering with a newer emotion.

Chan returns, black sweatpants slung low on his hips as he carries a few water bottles and some snacks into the living room.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy,” he says, a bright smile on his face.

“Hyung, I wasn’t-” Jisung begins, anxiety creeping up his throat,

“Sshhh,” Chan soothes him. “I had fun, you had fun, she had fun. It’s not complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

Chan smooths his hand down Jisungs hair then moves to cup your chin, grazing thumb over your lips. You smile and press a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Chan smiles with only affection in his eyes. “Now come on, the bed is big enough for the three of us.”

taglist: @skzswife @wjhswife

#skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader

169 notes · View notes

midnightorchids · 11 hours

Note

Ok so I was thinking about this the other day. You know how Dick is usually a detective or a cop? Imagine Jason as a firefighter.

Mans will lift you like you’re nothing and I bet he’s in one of those firemen calendars.

I honestly think he would be amazing as a firefighter.

IM SCREAMING!! Here are some firefighter!Jason headcanons, I hope you like them!

- firefighter!Jason has a sleeve, his tattoos are all over the place, but they’re cohesive and very aesthetically pleasing

- he has a small calcifer (the little fire demon from howls moving castle) tattoo hidden somewhere on his arm

- he adores his job because he loves helping and protecting people

- he’s kinda cringey and he makes fire/heat puns and jokes when he’s on duty

- children LOVE him because he’s so kind

- he always volunteers to do tours of the fire station with kindergarten and middle school kids

- he hands out lollipops and stickers at the end of each tour

- he’s really strong and can lift anyone (regardless of their weight or height), he spends a lot of time training his body and is very proud of it

- he is low key a SLUT!!! let me elaborate: yk when firefighters wear their uniform only around their waist and legs, and the top half is like a normal shirt…? yeah so imagine that with Jason.

- he walks around the fire station wearing a black compression shirt and it’s hugging his body so deliciously. you can see bits of his silver chain sticking out and his tattoos are on display… he looks so HOT (noo im turning into cringey fire pun Jason…)

- when he first joined the force, he thought that saving cats and animals from trees wouldn’t be a common occurrence

- it was. and he took home two strays.

- he named them arson and sparks (shout out to the two cats i saw at the pet store)

- as much as Jason is a silly little guy, he also takes his job very seriously

- he spends time comforting victims and trying his best to make sure that they’re safe

- if there’s a house fire, he tries to save everything but definitely does prioritize items that could be sentimental or of value

- he never leaves candles burning for too long, same with irons and stoves

- he is very careful and constantly warning people about potential fires and the consequences of not being careful around hot objects

- okay let’s go back to silly

- this one time the guys at the station made a bet and the loser had to take pictures for a “hot firefighter” calendar… yeah… Jason lost…

- his shirtless pictures were plastered all over the station the next day and he wasn’t even embarrassed

- he’d just smile when people mentioned it

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine #red hood headcanon #batfam

205 notes · View notes

whumpsday · 23 hours

Text

Kane & Jim AU: Slow Cooked

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, torture, burns, body horror / goreish, isolation, touch starvation, rescue, caretaking

just some whump that wouldn't leave my head. i'm on an AU kick. 2 pieces in a day!! woo!!! also posted a catharsis chapter earlier :D

It was day one-thousand one-hundred and thirty-three since they’d left Kane in the sun.

Unlike in his cell, it was easy to count the days out here. Impossible not to, unless he lost count amid the endless pain. He couldn’t see, hadn’t opened his eyes in years, but fire licked at his toes once more, slowly working its way up.

Kane did not scream. The last time he’d screamed, a hunter had wrapped a cord around his throat and threatened to leave it there forever if he made another sound, leaving his lungs perpetually empty. That was day 14.

He had air. As his already burnt-beyond-recognition body lit up once more under the unforgiving heat of the sun, Kane reminded himself he could breathe. It was the only thing he had left.

It hurt. It hurt, hurt, hurt, always. There was no end to it, not even at night, when his wholly maimed form was given far too little time to even start to heal. There was only agony at night and more agony in the day.

He missed his cell. He would do anything to go back to his cell, in the blessed dark.

The morning sun rose enough to reach his face, his entire body once again swallowed as he burned alive.

Please. Please make it stop. Please, somebody help me! I’ll do anything. I just need it to stop. Mercy.

Every day, the same wish, unanswered. Kane was left to his unbearable existence, forgotten.

Somebody touched him. It was the first time Kane had been touched in over three years.

It was a light touch, just the graze of what he thought to be a hand to his jawline. Not enough to make it hurt more than it already did. Whoever it was said something, but he couldn’t make it out. Melted flesh had filled his ears for quite some time.

Kane did not move. He didn’t think he was capable of moving, anymore. But he had to do something. Maybe if he did, they’d let him inside, just for a little. Just for a few days. He would do anything to be allowed inside for a few days, even if they tortured him.

Please, I need help, please help me! Make it stop!

A small, raspy whine escaped the back of his throat, muffled further by his sealed-shut lips. It was all he could manage.

The hand retreated.

If Kane was capable of crying, he would. If Kane’s tear ducts hadn’t melted away under the sun years ago, he’d never have stopped.

Please. Please. Somebody. Help me.

His heart cried out, yearning for the touch to return. Even if they never helped, even if they hurt him. He just needed to feel for one moment like he wasn’t alone.

He keened again, a quiet thing, though he tried. Wordless begging to not be left.

The hand returned to his cheek, and he quieted once more. If the agony never stopped, at least he had this. The ability to breathe, and one gentle touch.

Without warning, something pierced his chest, and his cursed consciousness was blissfully lost.

Kane did not wake outside.

His arms and legs were no longer spread into the corners of the board, ensuring every vulnerable inch of his front was exposed to the sun. The board no longer touched his back, in fact. Instead, he laid on something soft. The sun did not shine.

Either it was nighttime, or he’d been allowed inside.

It was almost unthinkable that he’d be allowed to rest on something soft and let inside. Surely, it had to be nighttime.

Despite his relative freedom–he could still feel a shackle on one ankle, not silver, but nothing else–he was far too mangled to move around. He simply laid there, trying to bask in the wonder of the soft thing.

“Kane?” a voice asked, hours later. He could hear it, he realized. His ears were cleared.

He knew that voice. That was the human’s voice. Jim’s voice.

The fragile hope that he might be allowed to remain on the soft thing vanished.

“Are you awake?” Jim asked. “I saw you… twitching and stuff.”

He would cry if he could. He was crying, he realized, tears falling down his burnt-up cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t be scared. I mean, that’s–that’s a tall order, yeah. You’re not going out there again. You’re gonna be okay.”

That gentle hand returned, to his hair this time. There wasn’t much of it left, he was reasonably sure. Jim stroked what was there, his touch feather-light, like he was afraid Kane would break into pieces.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. It’s over,” Jim promised. His voice shook like he might be crying, too.

Kane wanted to believe it so, so badly. It was everything he’d ever wanted, for someone to help. Finally, finally, for the pain to end. It hadn’t even ended yet, his body was a horrific mess of seared skin, but it had been promised. No one had ever promised to help before.

He couldn’t be dreaming. It never hurt this badly in dreams, his only refuge.

“Can you open your mouth?” Jim prompted.

No. He couldn’t. He tried, just to prove it, and…

His lips popped open, revealing a perfectly-preserved, unburnt mouth.

How long had he been out? Days? Had he not been touched by the sun for days?

“You’re doing great,” Jim encouraged. “I know you’re hurting pretty bad right now. So, um, I just…”

“Here, I’ve got it.” A different voice, female, unfamiliar. Before Kane could even worry about who she was, a lid opened with a pop, and the smell of blood filled the air.

Kane did manage more than a whine, then. A desperate howl of need.

The blood poured into his mouth, cold and refreshing and salty and sweet. There was so much of it. He drank and drank and drank until there was no more. He was actually sated for once.

“That’ll help him heal faster?” Jim asked.

“Yeah. Should do the trick.”

“...Do you think he’ll be mad at me?”

Mad? How could he possibly be mad? Jim took him away from the sun. Jim let him inside. Jim gave him blood. He was going to be allowed to heal!

“I think he’ll just be happy to be out of the sun,” the other voiced his thoughts.

There was a creak on the soft think–a bed? A couch?--as someone sat next to him. “Three years ago, the hunters told me they had you,” Jim said.

Three years. That was the end of it, then? Kane had paid his price, he wouldn’t have to do it anymore? It felt too good to be true.

“I told them to kill you,” he continued. “I was scared. I thought you would be like… before. I thought you would come after me. I didn’t know what they were doing, and they told me they’d done it. I thought you were dead. I never wanted you to suffer, not like this.”

Did that mean no more? It was truly over?

“No m-more?” Kane rasped out, his voice struggling to find itself after so long.

“No more.” That gentle touch returned to his hair, and for the first time in years, there was hope.

taglist in reblogs

#whump #my writing #kane and jim au #torture #burns #gore #isolaton #touched starved #rescue #caretaking #vampire whumpee #vampire whump

120 notes · View notes

babyblue711 · 1 day

Text

Little Dragonseed

Sister Story to Loyalty Dark!Aemond Targaryen (HOTD) x Handmaiden - Part 3 Summary: After evoking the Prince Regent's wrath, the young maid must now face the consequences of her actions. Words: 2.7K

Chapter Warnings: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS. NONCON, Sexual Content 18+, NSFW, Language, Degradation, Smut, Virginity Loss

A/N: Thoughts, comments, questions, and concerns are appreciated. I see this fic being wrapped up in the ending of "Loyalty" so this isn't the last that we'll see of the little maid. 💙

<<< Part 2

Back in his chambers, Aemond paces like a caged animal, a deep furrow etched into his brow as he contemplates her punishment. His hands are clasped behind his back, his posture rigid, as he strides back and forth in front of the roaring fire in the hearth.

The young maid's heart races as she watches him, awaiting her fate. Would he strip her of her position? Banish her from the castle for displeasing the prince? Her mind drifts to the matron, her surrogate mother, imagining her disappointment and shame wells in the pit of her stomach for behaving so foolishly.

“P-Please, I didn’t mean any harm…I only wanted to see - ” she begins, but the look on Aemond’s face immediately silences her.

“Harm?” he chuckles, a low and dangerous sound. “I’m sure my nephews didn’t mean any harm the night they took my eye, girl,” Aemond growls, removing his eyepatch and revealing the sparkling sapphire underneath. Her eyes widen in shock as she takes in this unusual aspect of his face; he’s clearly hoping to intimidate her. “I think, perhaps, it is time I take something from them in return. Equal trade, one may say.”

She frowns, feeling a surge of defiance despite her fear. Is he saying this just to scare her? Punishment for approaching his dragon without permission is one thing, but retribution for past wrongs she didn’t commit is quite another.

“You already have taken from them,” she blurts out, unable to hold back which catches his attention as he stops pacing, his singular eye narrowed as she says, with as much contempt as she can muster, “Kinslayer.”

Aemond looks at her as if she has struck him across the face, perhaps shocked that she knows this dark truth. But in a castle as large as Harrenhal, gossip spreads like wildfire, even the parentage of Rhaenyra’s children was no secret among the servants and she still supports Rhaenrya’s cause regardless. But to slay a member of your own extended family…there is no greater curse in her eyes as she narrows hers at the Prince Regent, feeling a flicker of her own dragon’s flame inside her chest.

He stares at her for a brief moment that seems to stretch for eternity; she knows she hit a nerve and braces herself for the storm. Like lightning, he grabs the front of her dress and pulls her roughly to him, so quickly she doesn't even have time to flinch. She glares up into his one fearsome, violet eye, feeling defiant.

“Do you honestly think Daemon gives a shit what happens to you?” the prince says viciously, each word dripping with malice as he aims to wound her with words in return, “if he cared about you, he wouldn’t have left you here…for me.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis, his jaw clenched tightly and with a sudden, violent motion, he hurls her away from him where she lands in a heap on his ornate bed.

Alarm bells start to ring inside her head and she curses her impulsive mouth, realizing too late how foolish it was to provoke one of the most dangerous men in the realm. Desperate to prove Aemond wrong and clinging to the hope of Daemon’s last words to her, she continues on recklessly.

“He told me he would be back for me,” she spits back at Aemond, trying to sound braver than she feels.

Aemond gives a humorless chuckle, “And you actually believed him?” He asks cruelly, striking at her deepest fears. He marches over to the bed and grabs her ankles, yanking her to the edge of the bed; she is trapped, unable to escape as he towers over her.

“Perhaps you would like to answer for some of your father’s crimes then?” His voice drips in venom, but she can hear the pain behind his next words, “he had my nephew, a defenseless child, murdered in cold blood and tormented my mother and sister. Did you know about that? Are you proud to call someone like that your father?”

Her breath catches in her chest and she shakes her head vehemently. The news of these heinous crimes had not yet reached Harrenhal, and she desperately wishes Aemond is lying, spinning tales to sow doubt in her newly found father-figure, trying to break her spirit. But deep inside, she knows he speaks the truth.

“So what should my revenge be? Killing you probably wouldn’t wound Daemon, he hasn’t cared enough about you until now,” a wicked smile plays on the prince’s curved lips as he considers his options. “I think humiliating him would be more satisfactory, don’t you?”

She doesn't reply, unsure of what he means, thoughts racing. When the prince next speaks, her blood runs cold.

“Tell me, little one,” his voice low and deep as he stares at her intensely, “Are you still a maiden?”

Fear spikes like electricity through her chest and instinctively she knows where this is leading. A buzzing sound fills her head as her vision narrows and she feels like she's on the edge of passing out. She presses her lips together, refusing to answer Aemond. Refuses to look him in the eye. Refuses to give him any sort of further knowledge about herself or any additional ways to hurt her.

"That's what I thought,” he sneers, taking her silence for absolution anyway. “When I give you back to Daemon, it’ll be with a bastard in your belly. I’d love to see his face when he finds out it’s mine.” There’s a look of grim satisfaction on his face as he imagines Daemon’s reaction to getting his daughter pregnant.

Dread fills her gut as she tries to backpedal across the bed away from him, but her limbs don’t seem to want to work properly and she can’t move fast enough. As if in slow motion, she sees the dagger materialize in his hand but doesn’t feel the sharp sting of the blade; instead, he’s ripping open her clothes as easily as if he’s slicing through butter.

As the cool air hits her delicate skin, she inhales, filling her lungs with as much air as she can, preparing to scream at the top of her voice when he pounces on top of her, crushing her to the bed underneath his weight and clapping a hand over her mouth once more. All of the air is forced out of her body as his weight settles on top of her, trapped underneath him on the bed.

“We can’t have any of that now. The more you fight, the worse it will be for you,” Aemond hisses into her ear and she tries to squirm out from under him, but he’s just too heavy. Angry tears leak out the corner of her eyes as she unwillingly stills, hating him more with each passing moment.

“It doesn’t have to be so bad, you know. You’re lucky you got me and not my brother, Aegon,” Aemond chuckles softly and she shivers, not fully grasping the dark implications behind his statement.

For a moment, Aemond's demeanor shifts as he takes in the tears leaking from her eyes and can surely feel the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat as he presses her into the bed. His grip is strong, almost suffocating, but then his hand moves from her mouth and he wipes away her tears with his thumb. She’s stunned into silence, taken aback at the unexpected gentle gesture. Her gaze searches his face, glimpsing conflicting emotions swirling in his usually cold and calculating eye.

“Nobody likes fucking a stone wall either,” Aemond murmurs, mostly to himself. “Tell me, girl, have you ever seen a naked man before?” His tone is different now, almost curious, almost bored as he gets up from the bed. She hates the way he is playing with her, but decides to answer him anyway.

“A… a few times,” she manages to croak, her throat feeling completely dry. “Sometimes I’ve had to help patch up soldiers, depending on their wounds….” She leaves the rest up to his imagination.

“Hmm,” he grunts, uninterested, as he begins to remove his own clothes; hers lay in tatters on the floor. He removes his shirt and then drops his trousers, not wasting any time; her eyes widen at the biggest cock she’s ever seen in her short, inexperienced life. Thick and heavy, it hangs weeping between his legs. Her eyes dart to his face to find him watching her intently, gauging her reaction before climbing on top of her again.

She tenses once more as the walls close in around her; ultimately her best hope is that he’s quick about it. She tries not to shudder as he runs his nose along her jawline, his tongue darting out to taste the delicate skin of her neck before traveling up to whisper in her ear.

“Do not be so afraid. It won’t go in until you’re ready,” he whispers and if this is supposed to make her feel better, it definitely doesn’t. She doesn't want it to go in at all, ready or not.

Her body goes limp in submission and Aemond can feel the fight in her is gone. Unbidden, more tears leak from her eyes, her breathing quick and shallow as he sucks on her tender nipples, kneading her breasts with his large hands. She hates the way he is touching her body, savoring her flesh regardless of her wishes. He’s being softer than she expected, but she can’t calm down, on the verge of hyperventilation; she just wants it to be done.

“P-please, Aemond, just get it over with,” she whispers as she cries silently, knowing she is a pathetic sight, her fingers clenching his bedsheets in suppressed fear and indignation that she has to suffer this.

“No,” he says in a strong voice, “Not like this. Shut your eyes and focus on your breathing.” Despite her misgivings, she does as she’s told.

Eyes tightly shut, she feels him move down her body, spreading her knees and she braces herself for his intrusion. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he begins kissing the delicate skin of her inner thigh and she flinches at first at the feeling of his lips so close to the forbidden parts of her that no man has ever touched before. Aemond takes his time kissing up her other thigh, before finally licking a strip up her center. Startled, her hips jump, bucking into his face as he wraps his strong arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he begins to devour her tight little cunt.

She doesn't want it to feel good, but it does. Her breathing is coming in short spurts as his mouth attaches to the sensitive bud above her entrance and he sucks harshly, alternating licking her folds and entering his tongue into her wet heat. Her mind is consumed by the pleasure, her tense muscles relaxing as he continues his sinful ministrations. She feels him insert a finger and stroke it deep inside of her, causing her eyes to snap open as she lets out a breathless “oh!” He glances up, gauging her reaction as his mouth reattaches to her bud as his finger finds that special spot buried deep inside her.

Aemond gives an appreciative hum as he laps at her wetness. Her hips buck off the bed as he continues to torture her deliciously, beckoning her pleasure forth in a way she didn’t know existed. A coil is building in her lower belly and she begins to pant as the sensation builds; without her notice, he slips a second finger inside.

She isn’t sure what is happening as the crescendo builds, but he doesn’t let up, not until she is falling…. falling…. falling…seeing stars as she is blinded by ecstasy, crying out his name not with pain, but with pleasure.

Coming down from her high, she opens her eyes, panting heavily, to see Aemond kneeled between her thighs, running the head of his thick cock up and down her silken slit. Panic flutters in her chest again as she takes in his size and he chuckles deep in his chest.

“So wet for me, little whore, you must be ready to take my bastard now, aren’t you?” His cock is at her entrance and he pauses as he says, “Now this will still hurt a little.”

He pushes slowly forward, spearing her open, causing her back to arch off the bed and her mouth to gape as she stretches around him. He watches her face the entire time, pausing now and then when he notices the knit between her brows, savoring her tight wet cunt clenching around his cock until he bottoms out at last.

She pants and moans underneath him, the painful stretch lessening every second as her velvet walls adjust around his girth. He pauses for a moment before starting to thrust, quickening his pace, the sound of slapping skin erotically fills the room. Already on edge from her last peak, she quickly starts to climb high again and Aemond can feel her sweet little cunt flexing around his thick girth.

“Cum on my cock, little whore,” Aemond pants in her face, voice harsh and gruff as he feels her squeeze him. She hates the way he is making her feel so good, mindless with pleasure, she tips over the edge, her walls tighten like a vice around him. He pounds into her, chasing his own release and growls as his hips stutter as he spills deep inside of her.

He climbs off and collapses next to her on the bed, regaining his breath the same way she is trying to regain hers. She feels momentary relief, glad that her punishment was over and she could get away from him now. She lies still for a moment longer and sits up on the bed, unsure how to make her exit.

“So is that it then? May I leave now?” she asks with a touch of desperation, sure that she has suffered enough for one misdeed. Aemond makes an amused noise in his throat as his hand softly traces up her spine, “I think not. I’m not done with you yet….”

Aemond had her twice more that night, taking her from behind and further humiliating her each time by spreading her cheeks wide and stuffing his seed back inside as it leaked out. Mortification builds deep in her belly, she didn’t even put up a fight, feeling guilty from the pleasure she received as he pulled more climaxes from her body, more than she ever thought she was capable of. Finally, at the hour of the owl, he allowed her to retire to her chambers, sore and tired.

She prays to the gods that she won’t conceive from this encounter and knows there’s only one way to be sure she doesn’t. Only the real mistress of this castle is tasked with brewing such potions and the little maid knows what she desperately needs.

Moving quietly on light feet through the empty halls, she clutches her ruined clothes around her, hurrying in a different direction than her chambers, relieved that Aemond clearly didn’t anticipate her next move. Shame colors her face at the thought of what Daemon would say if he ever found out she was carrying the One-Eyed Prince’s child. She has to do everything she can to prevent his disappointment.

She creeps down the stairs and knocks on the eerie door of the witch's chamber. A soft voice bids her enter, and there’s no surprise in Alys' eyes as she steps inside. Without even having to ask, Alys speaks first, arching an eyebrow as she takes in her disheveled state.

“Moon tea, then?” the enchantress asks, seeming to be wide awake despite the late hour. The little maid nods, hoping the witch won’t ask her any further questions.

“Of course, my child, do not fear. I will help you.” Alys tosses back her long, dark hair and begins bustling around the room, grabbing ingredients for the potion. The little maid lets out the breath she’s been holding, relief flooding her chest as she settles at the worn wooden table next to the fire in the hearth.

She is so exhausted that she starts to nod off to sleep as she waits for her brew. She’s not sure how much time has passed before Alys gently prods her awake, setting it carefully down in front of her.

"Be sure to drink it all, child,” Alys’ eyes darken infinitesimally as she surveys the young woman. “Only one of us will be carrying a royal babe and that will be me.”

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan nation #dark!aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut

74 notes · View notes

kitweewoos · 3 days

Text

Bucktommy + The Last of Us

When the end of the world comes, Tommy Kinard slips away from the soldiers attempting to round everyone up and take them to the QZ, and he returns home to build up his defenses. A ex-soldier, Tommy is well-equipped to defend himself and his homestead from the infected roaming the world now. He isolated, and he survived, trading only when he needed to, communicating with outsiders as a last resort. He's doing just fine. One day, one of his alarms goes off, and something has been caught in his trap. He grabs his gun, and heads off to the edge of his property. He's expecting one of the infected, and what he finds.... is Evan Buckley.

"I’m not infected!" "Are you armed?" "No." "Why did you take that long to answer?" "I don’t know. I- I thought about lying for some reason, but a - a reason didn’t come. Look, I-I’m just trying to get to Boston. That's where my sister is.." "Alone?" "We started with 10. But yeah, I’m-I’m alone." "From where?" "Philadelphia QZ. It’s gone." "Are ya hurt?" "There’s just, just a bruise."

He's just supposed to stay the night. That's what Tommy tells himself. Evan had just looked so sad and hungry after he got out of the pit, his blue eyes so wide they caught the afternoon sun. He lets Evan use his shower, and he makes him dinner, rabbit that he pairs with a nice wine. Evan can't help touching his stuff in fascination, and Tommy feels on edge. Evan touches his piano and plays a song that aches in Tommy's chest, he has to at least try to shut that down. It's just, the look on his face when Tommy does so, it hurts. So, Tommy sits at the bench, and he plays the song, and sings along to the tune.

"So, who’s the girl? Girl you’re singing about?" "There is no girl." "I know. What’s your name?" "Tommy." "Go take a shower, Tommy." "Okay."

Before the end of the world, he'd considered that he was into men, but between his years in the army and then under a rigid fire captain, he hadn't been able to truly explore that. When he takes a shower, cleaning himself thoroughly, he steps out to find Evan underneath the covers of his bed, and goddamn he looks good there. He looks so good. Tommy can't imagine someone ever looking as good at Evan. He joins him, and for the first time, he lets someone in.

"I’m gonna start with the simple things." "Okay." "Okay. But before I do, I want you to know that I’m not a whore. I don’t have sex for lunches… not even great ones. So, if I do this, I am gonna stay for a few more days. Is that okay?" "Yeah. Yes."

It's the start of the rest of their lives together, of kisses, and fights, and guns, and strawberry gardens, and paintings, and growing old.

"I traded Joel and Tess one of your guns for a packet of seeds." "Which gun?" "A little one."

They love, and they live, and even though every day is tough, they're there to brave it all together.

'I’m sorry." "For what?" "Gettin’ older faster than you." "Ah, I like you older. Older means we’re still here. What?" "I was never afraid before you showed up"

#911 #bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #evan buck buckely #kit creates #911 moodboard

91 notes · View notes

pit-and-the-pen · 3 days

Text

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 3

A tiny bit of a shorter update here y'all. I promise there's a ton in the next chapter that I have planned but I just wanted to get this part out.

warnings: Drinking, slightly suggestive actions/thoughts

WC: 9.3k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1] [chapter 2]

Feyre didn't make it to the prison that next day. Her and Rhys had not been gone for an hour before Rhys was winnowing her back into the living room. Feyre was as pale as a ghost and shaking like a leaf. The concern that laced Rhys’ face was enough to stop me from asking how it went, was enough to stop everyone in the room from asking. Feyre didn’t stay to talk, turning on her heel and stalking towards her room.

I watched as she ascended the stairs, taking note of the stiffness of her shoulders.

“She saw it was underground and couldn’t do it.” Was the only explanation I was given. I nodded, fully understanding. A variable none of us had even thought to consider, the prison was scary enough on its own. But add fifty feet of rock above your head, after that damned mountain, I Feyre didn’t come out of her room again that day.

The next morning, I once again found myself outside her door too scared to knock. Too scared of her rejecting my company to bring her any semblance of comfort. It was the cowards move and I hated that I couldn’t bring myself to check on her. The tiny sniffles I could hear through the heavy wooden door let me know the full extent of the effect that place had on her.

I sensed someone standing behind me and almost jumped when I saw Armen beside me. The two of us had a lukewarm relationship at best. She respected me only as much as was polite, I was her high lord's sister after all. But that’s where that relationship started and ended. I respected her as part of my brother's court, and quite frankly, I was terrified of her.

“If you won’t then I will.” She said in a bored tone. “I know you heard her last night too.” I had. Feyre vomiting her guts out, screaming from nightmares, then more vomiting. It was something I was all too familiar with. The things that creep into our sleep, images from that vile place where she had lost her humanity. Amren simply rolled her eyes and strolled into the room, leaving me flustered at the doorway. I didn’t stay around to listen to their conversation. Instead I went down to the kitchen, finding my hands suddenly far too empty.

In a matter of minutes I had pulled out all the ingredients to make breakfast. Grabbing a whisk to start mixing, I sensed someone else in the room. I looked up and was met with the eyes of my brother. A slightly worried look in his eyes, he knew I only cooked when something was on my mind. I just shrugged my shoulders at him, dismissing the concern. He didn’t say anything as he sat at one of the stools in the kitchen. Both of us content to sit in the other’s silence. Cassian came in only for me to shoo him out when he kept picking at the food as I made it. The action made the three of us howl with laughter.

The next day, Feyre seemed to be in better spirits. I noticed her hand tracing over the necklace Amren had given her yesterday. Some random glittery trinket Rhys had gifted her one year for Solstice. I don’t know what the ancient fae had told her to make Feyre clutch it like it was a life line. Rhys eyed Amren who just waved him off with her usual casual coolness.

“Ready then?” He asked Feyre. She gulped but nodded. And like that they were off.

That’s when the waiting began. Everyone sat with perfect Fae stillness as we waited for Rhys and Feyre to return. All holding a collective breath for that information that could save us all. At some point I had lit a fire just to have something to do with my hands. The book that I had been trying to read all morning lay untouched by my feet. Mor was lounging next to Cassian. Azriel was brooding at the window, his wings twitching slightly at the tension in the room. Shadows a nervous flurry at his feet. Amren has slinked off the moment Rhys had winnowed away.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a crack cut through the silence in the room. The familiar smell of the prison lingered on Feyre and Rhys as they appeared in the living room. I couldn’t help the careful eye I ran over the both of them, assessing for any damage. A sigh of relief left me when I couldn’t find any.

“How’d it go?” Mor finally broke the silence, trying and failing to keep her voice casual. Feyre was already splayed out in an armchair closest to the hearth. She stretched, rubbing at her arms, like she couldn’t get warm enough. Rhys went to pick at a piece of invisible lint on his leathers. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“The bone carver is nothing more than a busybody.” He simply said. We all looked for him for a scrap of more information.

“And?” I snapped.

“And, he can be helpful when he wants to be. It seems we need to do what we do best.” His violet eyes shone with a flicker of mischief at his words. “Hybern has the Cauldron.” I couldn't contain the gasp that tumbled out of me. For the first time since my brother had left, Azriel moved. Perching on the arm of the couch I was sitting on.

“What does that mean for us?” Azriel asked sharply.

“It means that we finally know the cause behind all the destruction as of late.” Rhys ran a hand through his hair, eyes flickering to Feyre who looked like she was about to pass out from exhaustion. “But it also means that we are severely overpowered.”

“Did you learn how to stop it?”

“The Carver mentioned two books that could nullify it, that Feyre could use to nullify it.”

“Those books haven’t been seen in centuries, Rhys.” I interjected. He nodded, hands again running over his hair.

“The location was one thing that the Carver was nice enough to gift us.” I shuddered at the tone of his voice. I didn’t want to think of what he or Feyre had to offer for that bit of information.

“One piece rests in Summer and the other with the human Queens.” Rhys continued.

“I’ll reach out to my sources in Summer to see if I can track down the exact location. I can also personally visit the human lands and see what I can find on the other piece.” Azriel started immediately. Ever the busy spymaster.

“No. I don’t trust this information with anyone outside of this room, save for Armen. Not before we know who will actually stand besides us. If that book were to get into the wrong hands, we might as well surender right now.” Azriel tensed at my brother's words. I placed a gentle hand over his knee. A casual gesture that had him relaxing his shoulders ever so slightly. He gave Rhys a small nod of agreement.

“What does that mean for us?” Mor spoke out.

“As far as I’m concerned, Hybern has already declared war. That was our temple he sacked last to get a missing piece of the cauldron.”

“We need to find a way to get to the cauldron then.” My words gained a nod from Rhys. “It will likely be heavily warded, more than you could even break through Rhys. And then there’s the issue of even finding it. Hybern’s land is incredibly large and there's no guarantee he wouldn’t stash it somewhere else in Prythian.”

“We think that since the pieces are spelled by individual High Lords, their power can find it. Besides actually wielding the book, it seems like we might have our very own key to finding those pieces.” Four pairs of eyes all turned in sync to Feyre. She cringed when she met our eyes.

“We don’t know that for sure…” She started.

“But it would make sense. You contain a kernel of all of their powers. I saw it get transferred to you. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to find them.”

“And there’s a way to test it.” Rhys said with a wicked grin. “It will require us going on a little trip, to see if you can find a very important thing that I have been missing for a very long time.”

“Rhys..” I started but Mor’s echoing “shit.” cut me off.

“Where?” Feyre said, voice trembling.

“The Weaver.” I spoke at the same time as Azriel.

“You can’t be serious…” I started, voice rising at the sheer audacity of my brother.

“The test will be to see if Feyre can detect something that has my magic on it. If she can find that then I am confident it’ll work with other objects.” I had half a mind to slap that dignified look off of my brother's face. Feyre might not know what exact object was at the Weavers cottage but the rest of us did.

I sunk in on myself. Mind drifting far away, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

I felt a prod at my mental walls. You’re unhappy. Rhys spoke into my head.

You’re playing games. I responded. It’s necessary and this way I know she’ll be safe. You think I would ever put her at serious risk? I shook my head, pushing him out of my mind. He winced at the force behind the action. I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I picked at my nails until Rhys' voice pulled me out of whatever was stewing in my brain.

“Emissary. Emissary to the Night Court- for the human realm.” The sound that left me was a mix between a gasp and a scoff. I ripped my hand off of its place on Azriel’s knee. Simply unable to put up with my brother's game at the moment. Azriel mumbled out my name as I stood up, walking out of the room. I shot Feyre a sympathetic look to let her know my leaving had nothing to do with her. She didn’t even glance my way, eyes flickering instead between Rhys and Azriel, who were now arguing in full force.

When I reached my room, I could already feel the edges of a headache creeping over my vision. My hand came up to rub at my temples. I didn’t hear anything from anyone the rest of the day, the only sign I had even received that the arguing had stopped was Rhys popping his head into my room to tell me we were leaving early in the morning. I merely gave him a vulgar gesture with my finger before he slammed the door on his way out. Grabbing a pillow from the edge of my bed, I held it up to my head and let out a loud scream.

This was all too much. Prythian had barely survived one war. And that was when the entirety of it was fighting together and my stupid, oversure brother thought that we could win it before it even started. Throwing the pillow across the room in frustration, I flopped onto the bed. Mind already starting to race with the possibilities and outcomes. All the wrong moves that could see everyone in my family dead in a matter of minutes. We were playing a dangerous game and I didn’t like how carelessly Rhys was thinking about things. A small part knew Rhys would never let Feyre be involved if he thought we stood no chance, so he must have a better plan than the ones I was coming up with. I hoped.

The morning came far too quickly. I feel like I had just fallen asleep when a shadow had crept into my bed, whispering nonsense into my ear to make me up. They ignored my swats in protests. I groaned, pulling myself up into a sitting position. “Busybodies.” I muttered as the shadow creeped back out of my room, most likely letting Azriel and Rhys know I was awake.

I dressed slowly, pulling on each layer of clothing with a practiced sort of focus. Hands nimbly fastening the many buckles of my fighting leathers, like I had done a million times before. I reached for the daggers that Cassian and Azriel had gifted me, one from each of them. Their handles encrusted with gems that matched their siphons. The third I slipped in had gems that matched the first diadem I had been gifted from my mother. I tried not to think about all of their significance as I strapped them to the holster on my thigh. I tied my hair up in an updo, one that required as little pins as possible to keep it out of my face. And I went to find my brother.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why Rhys wanted me to accompany them. Having both of us there would be an extra layer of protection in case this all went to shit. The little bit of my power that had returned combined with Rhys’ would be more than enough to stop the Weaver. I couldn’t fully dampen a room but I had successfully snuffed out a candle or faelight more than a handful of times. Darkness did nothing if you were already blind, but the Weaver relied on scent and hearing. Both of which I had been successful in cutting off from Rhys. Not a hint of my full power but enough to give Feyre time to run if need be.

Once we winnowed into that ancient woods, I had started walking towards the cottage. Having no interest in listening to the distraction my brother had warned me he would be giving Feyre. I tried not to vomit as I listened to his shameless flirting.

Eventually the trees had thinned out. All rustles of surrounding animals faded into nothing. I held up my hand singling to Rhys and feyre to stop moving. Feyre’s breath caught behind me. The cottage was just in view. The smoke from the chimney is still lingering in the air like a blanket. Rhys gave Feyre a dramatic flourish and bowed, letting her move on her own. She flipped him off which brought a smile to my face.

I held my breath as I watched her walk into the front door, flinching when it closed behind her. Like an invisible hand had pushed it shut. My head whipped to Rhys and I saw that he had not planned for that. When I went to take a step forward, he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I threw it off but stayed put. No interference. Those were the rules. He said in my mind.

So we sat and waited. “It’s taking too long, Rhys she can’t find it.” He shook his head.

“No she has to.”

“Not right this minute, it’s not like…” A blood curdling scream cut off my words. My dagger was in my hand faster than I could think. Body tensed for whatever had caused that scream. Some part of me knew it wasn’t Feyre. No, I had become all too familiar with the sound of her screams under the mountain.

Faster than a streak of light, Feyre was bounding across the roof. At the same time the front door of the cottage flung open, The Weaver screaming for Feyre. Rhys and I shot each other a look before we were running after Feyre. Chasing her through the tree branches that she was running over. Rhys was able to climb up and perched on the end of one of the branches she would find herself in front of any second.

“What the hell did you do?” He said coolly. Feyre skidded to a stop. Blood rose to her cheeks and I saw the pure fury in her eyes as she hissed at him. He cut her off before he wrapped an arm around both of us, winnowing the both of us back to Velaris.

I was able to winnow enough to get me on the balcony of the house of wind, I landed just in time to see Rhys’ wings appear. When I opened the door, Cassian and Amren had my map sprawled out in front of them. Clearly in the middle of an argument.

Feyre had barely stepped into the threshold of the house before she vomited on the floor. Cassian cursed and Armen had it cleaned up with a quick flick of her wrist.

Feyre had explained what had happened in the cottage. Anger creeped through me as she explained. I shot Rhys a glare that said I told you so.

“And where were you two?” Amren hissed at my brother and I. I felt shame creep up through the anger.

“Far enough away to help if need be. But she got out.” Rhys answered evenly. Feyre yelled at him.

“I’m training with you, if the offer still stands.” Feyre said, ignoring Rhys. “I want to have another option besides running.”

“Running very well might have saved your life today.” I said in return. She gave me a nasty side eye.

“I want to be useful if it ever comes down to a fight.” Was all she said and Cassian nodded.

After that, she seemed to remember something and she all but threw the ring at Rhys, who scrambled to catch it before it fell to the ground. Even I flinched towards it. The motion wasn’t lost of feyre and she raised an eyebrow at me in question.

“How’d you lose it anyways?”

“I didn’t. My mother gave it to me, then took it back when I reached maturity and then gave it to the Weaver for safekeeping.” I rolled my eyes at his half truth. She looked like she was about to lay into him before Rhys was grabbing her hand and left out the window. Probably getting them far enough to winnow back to the townhouse. I didn’t follow after them.

Cassian let loose a heavy sigh and I nodded along.

“He’s got it bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So your mothers ring…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Cassian.” I waved him off. Grabbing a bottle of wine out of the cabinet before I walked towards one of the empty rooms in the house.

“Training with me, tomorrow morning.” Cassian was not asking. And my only answer was the sound of the cork popping out of the bottle in my hand.

Cassian stuck to his words. He dragged me out of bed at sunrise despite my protests. He was having absolutely none of it.

“Feyre’s coming and I want you to be there.” Bastard. He was playing dirty and knew it would work. He smirked as I pushed him out of the room so I could get changed.

Feyre joined us a little after we had gotten warmed up.

“I want you to watch for a little bit. Before we get into the basics.” Feyre made a discontent noise. “I can’t just throw you into the ring with one of us without having some foundation. Sure you can use a bow, but in hand to hand, you wouldn’t last a second.” Blunt. But true. Feyre’s face showed that she knew this. So she hung back as Cassian and Azriel squared off to each other.

It was nearly impossible to follow their movements. They eventually slowed down enough to follow. To track the perfectly timed punches and dips. Cassian and Azriel fought with an easy grace. The sign of centuries of practice. My eyes tracked every roll of muscle, Azriel being shirtless didn’t help my gawking. Eventually they broke apart and I had to remind myself how to close my jaw. Unaware of the way it had parted slightly. Even Feyre looked overly interested.

“Alright. Now, time for princess to get in here.” I groaned and he shot me a withering glare. “She’ll be the best example for you to follow Feyre. Just polished enough to not get hurt and do some damage along the way.”

“Thank you for the glowing compliment Cassian.” He just smiled at me, gesturing for me to get in front of him. I pushed myself off the rock I was leaning against. I gave Feyre an overly sweet smile that had pulled a small laugh out of her.

Cassian didn’t waste a second once I found my footing. He was relentless. Throwing powerful punch after powerful punch. I willed myself to follow his movements, trying my best to predict them. His movements far too fast for my mind to keep up with. So I took a deep breath and pulled from that same spot I had been practicing with Rhys. Cassian cursed loudly and I know it worked. The thin black mist that reached out to him even further proof. He stumbled slightly as I took his sight. It was just for long enough that I was able to grab his fist as he swung blindly. I used my hold and his unstable feet to flip over him. I had his arm pressed against his back. The perfect angel that with a simple twist would break his arm. He shouted at me and I pulled back my powers, granting him his sight back.

“Not fair.” He panted out as I pushed him out of my hold. He caught himself with a fighter's grace, pulling himself onto his feet in one fluid motion.

“Oh suck it up you baby.” I said with a laugh at his outraged expression.

“You never told us you got your powers back.” Azriel spoke from the sidelines. I shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. And truly it wasn’t. I could already feel the toll that little bit had taken on me.

“Fine, you want to play that way…” Cassian started. “Azriel.” He finished. My head whipped to look at Cassian who was wearing a shit eating grin. I looked back to Azriel who just raised a challenging eyebrow at me. Never one to back down so easily, I gave him an exhausted wave of my hand. Singling him closer. We stood across from each other. Sizing each other up. Azriel and I haven't ever really sparred like this. Not hand to hand. Since we both favored daggers, it was always with weapons. I don’t even know if I could hit him. But I tried not to let that show on my face as I made the first move. He easily stepped out of the way, dodging my lunge at him. I whipped around and went to sweep his leg but he managed to dodge it again. A small smirk on his face as I looked up at him. My eyebrows set in a determined line and I forced myself to swing for his stomach. He grabbed my arm with ease, pushing it to the side and making me wobble trying to regain my footing.

“Stop dancing and actually fight.”

Cassian’s words had his head snap to him for just a second. But it was all the time I needed to flip him onto his back. His hands instantly grabbed on my hips as we fell to the ground. I heard the breath whoosh out from him, mostly in surprise as he stared up at me. Hazel eyes gleaming with something I didn’t want to think about. We just sat looking at each other before I leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“I think I like having you on your back. I should do it more often.” With a graceful swing of my legs, I suddenly was standing above him. He seemed to still be in shock and I nearly doubled over laughing. Rolling my eyes , I offered him a hand to stand up. He could have gotten up by himself. But I wanted to touch his skin, feel the warmth of his body again. My hips still felt the ghost of his touch like he had burned his touch into the skin underneath. He took my hand and instead of pulling himself up, he pulled me down. I yelped in surprise as he quickly flipped me over. Hovering over me, his arms caged around me so no parts of him were touching me. A far more restrained move than me straddling his hips just a few moments ago. I went to shove his chest and he caught my arm, pinning it above my head. All of my focus zeroed on that exact spot, his hand on my wrist. It took every bit of restraint I had to bite back the whimper building in my throat at the action. I shifted under him, trying to wiggle out of his grasp and that only made him grab my wrist tighter.

“What are you going to do now princess?” He rasped near my ear. Mirroring my early actions of leaning down close to me. That stupid nickname, the way it dripped off of his lips had my whole body heating up. It was too much. I could only suck in heavy breaths of his scent and it lit my whole body on fire. I ignored the urge to wrap my leg around his back and pull him against me. Instead I pulled my leg up and used my knee to push him off of me. Probably a little harder than necessary. He clearly wasn’t expecting it as he fell back, hands resting on either side of him. We both sat, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths, unable to look away from each other. I said nothing as I stood up, brushing the dirt off of my pants and walked over to where Cassian was standing. I might have added a little extra sway to my hips.

“Close your mouth, you’ll let flies in.” I all but growled lowly to Cassian as I approached his side.

“So we’re just going to ignore whatever that was?” Cassian said, his eyebrow raised at me. I wanted to ignore him too.

“We’re absolutely going to” I absolutely would not. But I wasn’t about to talk about it with Cassian of all people. As it was he was probably never going to let me live it down. I tried my hardest not to think about what Azriel had felt like underneath me. How his hands seemed so sure as they gripped my hips. The small quiet grunt that left his lips from his back hitting the ground. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to think about his gravelly voice in my ear. No, I would absolutely not think about Azriel for the rest of the day.

I passed Feyre from her position on the outside of the training ring. She raised an eyebrow at me before falling into step next to me. “If training always looks like that, I might have joined you all earlier.” She playfully hit my shoulder with her own and I fought the urge to groan. The action was so similar to Rhy that it was almost funny. They were absolutely perfect for each other, if he would only ever tell her they were mates. “So you and Azriel…” Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrow at her. She gave me a dramatic roll of her eyes, “How long have two been together.” My legs froze. When her words had fully sunk in, I started roaring with laughter. I doubled over and rested my hands on my knees. I was finally able to compose myself, I stood up and wiped the stray tear from my eye.

“I was serious.” She said, a confused look on her face.

“Sizing up the competition are we?” I said to her,

“Dodging the question, are we?” Her smile only grew as mine faded. “So not together then, I just thought…” I raised my hand to stop her, unable to hear anymore.

“He’s my brother’s best friend, his brother.” Was all I offered her. She looked like she wanted to press the issue but thought better of it. I left out a small sigh of relief as we walked back up to the house.

Somewhere in the day, after I cleaned away the sweat and grime from training, Mor came into my room. “We’re going to Rita’s tonight, if you want to come along?” Her eyes shone with mischief and I knew even if I didn’t want to, I would be going.

Mor didn’t even bother knocking as she came back with an arm full of dresses for me to try on. I had no shortage in my own closet but who was I to deny her the opportunity to play dress up.

She held up the first one for me to see, a striking red color that looked like it would show more than it covered. I laughed at the idea. “That’s far more your color than it is mine.” She beamed a smile at me and put it in a separate pile. Dress after dress was pulled out and presented to me, each one more and more revealing. I groaned inwardly at the scrap of a black dress she held up for me. I shook my head.

“Maybe I should just stay home.” I sighed. She gave me a dramatic pout.

“You haven’t seen the last one yet.” She held it out and I knew that was the one she had been saving.

It wasn’t exactly his shade of blue, and that made it even more perfect. Far enough off that it could be written off as a coincidence. The look Mor gave me told me she had that very thought when she picked it out. A deep scoop for the neck line, held together by a silver ring, a similar cut out right below it. It looked like it would stop about mid-thigh. Mor threw the dress into my arms and pushed me into the bathroom.

“We don’t have all day so get your cute ass in the dress.” She said as the door closed and I laughed loud enough for her to hear it through the wood. I stripped off my pajamas and realized the dress would not allow for any type of bra, so I took that off too. Wiggling slightly to get it over my thighs, I smoothed the dress down. It was nothing super out of the ordinary from what I’ve worn to Rita’s in the past but I suddenly felt very shy looking at myself in the mirror. The dress hugged my curves in all the right places and had enough support in the bust that it made up for the lack of a bra. I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves to walk out and show Mor.

When I walked out she gave a dramatic whistle. “That’s the one for sure. No one will be able to look away.” She raised her eyebrows at the suggestive comment and I felt heat rise in my cheeks. Both of us knew I only cared about one specific male's attention. One that would hardly give me a second glance.

She started on my makeup next, lining my eyes heavily with kohl. Blush wasn’t needed in this case, the sheer amount of alcohol we’d be consuming would do that for me. She swiped a red tinted gloss over my lips and turned me to face the mirror again. The black made the purple in my eyes pop, even I was unable to look away from my reflection. The gloss doing its job of making my lips look plump in a way that bordered on seduction. “You have outdone yourself” I complimented Mor and it was her turn for her cheeks to ting red. She shrugged off the compliment.

“I trust you to do your own hair. I’m going to get ready. We’re leaving in less than an hour, so be quick.” She snatched the discarded dresses off their spot on my bed and strolled out of the room.

I decided to leave my hair simple. The dress was enough of a statement on its own. My hair was still slightly curly from my bath earlier so I just left it down, twisting and pinning one side of it against my head. I pulled out some longer bits for the front and that was that. Giving myself a quick once over in the mirror, I started heading downstairs to meet the rest of my family.

It was late enough that Feyre had already gone to her bedroom for the night. But I was surprised to see my brother dressed and waiting, impatiently, for Mor and I. I walked down the stairs and three pairs of eyes turned to me at the sound of my heels clicking against the floor. My eyes found Rhys first, slightly disapproval at my outfit but he’d get over it. I rolled my eyes at him and then caught Azriel’s gaze.

I tried to ignore the way his eyes roved greedily over my figure. Blocked out the blush that rose all the way to my ears. His mouth was slightly open like he was going to say something but Cassian cut him off.

“You clean up nice, princess.” Another roll of my eyes.

“Who knew you knew how to put a shirt on Cas.” I teased back. I couldn’t find the courage to look over to Azriel again, scared of whatever look he was giving me. A look you certainly don’t give to friends or family. When I finally did glance over his way, I noticed his eyes were still on me, following my every shift with an intense look, like a hunter following prey.

“Let’s go, we’re burning moonlight.” Mor said, breaking whatever tension was in the room. She all but ran down the steps until she was on even ground. She wrapped her arm around mine and pulled me to the door, the males following behind us.

We laughed and pointed out things on our walk over to Rita’s. Mor and I walked a few steps ahead the entire time. The handful of times I risked a glance backwards, I noticed Azriel making a point to look anywhere but me. Which only brought more laughter from me.

Rita’s wasn’t super packed tonight, but the music could be heard from outside of the bar. The five of us strolled in the doors and I could already feel the music in my chest. A sultry rhythm that had me longing to pull Mor to the dance floor. But we first headed to the bar, ordering the strongest drinks that they had to offer. I winced slightly as I took my first sip.

No sooner than that sip did I do exactly that, pulling Mor by her hand into the crowd of bodies. I was slightly out of practice but I just let my body feel the music. Head tipped back with laughter as Mor and I danced together.

We only lasted a few songs before both of us needed new drinks. This time we stayed at the booth the others had picked out. Her and I slid into the seats. She rushed for the seat next to Cassian and Rhys, leaving me to sit next to Azriel. Fine, perfectly fine. I told myself as I sat down next to him. The booth was tight enough with three pairs of wings that our thighs were touching. My mind instantly flashing back to earlier in the day, the way my thighs had been slung over both of his hips. I squirmed in my seat and tried my best to focus on the conversation being had.

“No word from summer yet?” Cassian asked between sips of his own drink. Rhys sighed before shaking his head. He emptied his own glass and Cassian was already pushing another one towards him.

“Which means we will go to the humans tomorrow.” He kept his voice low, although it was unnecessary over the music. Cassian sucked his teeth but kept quiet. Mor stiffened ever so slightly before speaking up.

“I’ll stay in Velaris.” Her tone left nothing to be argued with. We all turned to our drinks, a comfortable silence falling over us. More drinks were consumed. My chest felt very warm and I knew a dopey smile was stuck on my face. At some point Azriel’s hand had slipped onto my knee as the conversation flowed.

“By the mother, she’s infuriating.” Rhys lamented into his glass, his response when Cassian asked how that relationship was going. “She has all of this power that I can sense, but she refuses to try to learn how to use it.” Cassian let out a roaring laugh.

“She’s gotta be stubborn if she’s ever going to deal with you. Someone here has to be able to tell you no.”

“ I would argue, you all keep me in check perfectly.” He laughed back. All of us joined in.

Mor went to get the next round of drinks and I downed mine, probably too quickly. The room started to spin just a little and I laid my head against Azriel’s shoulder. His arm instantly wrapped around me. Shadows wrapping around the two of us.

“You okay?” He said slowly to me. I looked up at him and gave him a small drunken nod. The motion made a laugh rumble through him. “I think you’ve had enough. I’m cutting you off, princess.” I pouted at him, my bottom lip sticking out. I could only blink up at him as he raised his free hand to untuck my lip, a scared finger lingering on my face. I suddenly couldn’t hear anything else in the room. All of my focus zeroing in on that hand on my face. I swore he was leaning in more than a second ago, his face a lot closer to mine than it had been. Rhys cleared his throat loud enough to make me jump. Azriel’s shadows retreated back to his side. My cheeks heated up as I pulled my eyes away from Azriel’s face. I had completely forgotten the others, who were now giving Azriel and I confused looks. All except Mor who had a self satisfied grin on her face.

We didn’t last much longer than that. All deciding that it was time to call it a night. We would need to be up in only a few hours to go to the human realm.

During the walk home, Azriel wouldn’t so much as look at me. Letting Mor and I once again led the way, albeit on slightly more wobbly legs. By the time we got to the house, my shoes were in my hand, feet screaming at the height of the heels. We all quickly said goodnight and headed towards our rooms. Walking up the stairs, my foot caught the edge of one of them and I would have fallen face first into the marble if not for a warm hand that wrapped around my arm. Azriel was standing beside me, my arm held lightly. I could only gawk at him as he pulled me upright.

“Maybe I should walk to your room so you don’t hurt yourself, or the house.” He spoke softly, a hint of a smile at the edge of his lips. I nodded, my tongue unable to find words.

So he did exactly that. We reached my door and I turned to him to say good night but he was much closer than I anticipated. Our eyes locked and we both stood frozen, unable to look away from each other. Before I could think of something else to say, he reached out a gentle hand and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered on my face. I felt my breath catch in my throat, mouth parting to say something, anything.

“Good night.” He spoke before I could. His hand dropped to his side and I tried not to pout as I echoed the words back to him. I stood outside my door and watched as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall to his own room.

I got dressed for bed in a daze. Nearly forgetting to wipe off the makeup on my face. I crawled into bed and let thoughts of the shadowslinger lull me to sleep.

I felt funny wearing the clothes that Feyre had picked out for me. Everything felt itchy and heavy against my skin. Gone were the typical cobwebs from the night court attire. Instead, Feyre helped lace me into a corset that she informed me I’m supposed to wear underneath my clothing. We compromised on a long sleeve shirt that had sheer sleeves but went up to my neck. It all felt very stuffy and Feyre laughed when I pointed that out to her.

“It’s supposed to be. Humans are a lot more…modest than high fae.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that. That was an understatement for sure. She helped me pin the simple linen skirt and tied up my hair in an intricate braid that rested on the top of my head. “There, you could pass perfectly for human, if it wasn’t for the ears.” She teased and I stuck my tongue out at her. Pulling my hair down in front of my ears. Thankfully, she turned her attention to Mor who was studying the clothes intensely.

“No fighting in these clothes.” She muttered, low enough that I wonder if she even meant to say it out loud.

“Women are expected to get married, have children and then plan the same for those children. Some might work, if they’re poorer.” Feyre explained. Mor nodded along to her words.

“Fae are the same in some places. Feyre slipped behind the screen in her room to start changing her own clothes.

“In the Court of Nightmares, females are…prized.” Mor’s voice had gone ice cold. My eyes drifted to her, remembering her own family. “We’re only valued for our ability to produce offspring. And being the most powerful in my family, everyone could see it, the day I first bleed it was over for me. I was hoping I could escape the same fate as the rest of my cousins, shackled into a loveless, and sometimes cruel, marriage. But when my power unleashed itself full force, I was suddenly the most sought after female in the court” She shuddered slightly. I tried to keep my face as those old memories resurfaced.

“What about your parents?” Feyre asked from behind the screen. Voice shaking slightly.

Mor gave out a cold, flat laugh. “They were beside themself. They could have a pick at any of the top ruling families. My pleas fell on deaf ears.” She took a steady breath. “The rest of the story is long and awful and this isn’t the time for it. But I say all of this to let you know I’m not coming with you.” I of course already knew this but I never gave much thought to the reasoning behind it. How the way humans treated females would open old wounds for Mor. Ways that she did everything in her power to avoid.

I tried to busy myself with fixing the layers of my clothes as they talked, letting them have a little bit of privacy.

“There are good days and hard days for me-even now. Don’t let the hard days win.” Mor said, giving Feyre a slight squeeze on the shoulder before she walked out of the room.

With Mor and Amren staying behind to watch Velaris, that left the five of us, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys, Feyre and myself. I had already walked up to Azriel’s side before Feyre blurted out. “I’ll fly with Azriel.” I couldn’t keep my face neutral, even as Azriel simply bowed his head. I tried to stomp down the jealousy at the way his shadows wrapped around her when Azriel scooped up Feyre into his arms. Tried not to think of the way those very arms had been wrapped around me last night. Cassian was at my side giving me a wink he said, “Guess you’re stuck with me. Try not to look so disappointed.”

“Elain.” Feyre’s voice broke around the name. The housekeeper had been giving her a hard time when the girl had appeared. The rest of us merely waited outside as Feyre walked through the doors of the manor.

I held my breath as Feyre greeted us at the doors. She led us into a large room in the house and I couldn’t help but look around. In awe of the manor before me. The resemblance between the three sisters was uncanny. The slope of a nose, the curve of full lips. Wide eyes that followed every move the Illryians made. The tallest took a small step in front of the other timid girl when she spied the two winged males. I fought the urge to scoff and stepped closer. Feyre simply introduced all of us to each other. The other’s didn’t dare move.

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Rhys said with a bow. The perfect example of a diplomatic high lord. Nesta’s welcome was less than ice cold. We followed her into the dining room and all took our seats.

The males, per usual, began scarfing down the food. Where they put it all, I would never know. Feyre ate with a look that would lead you to believe she was eating glass.

“Is there something wrong without food?” Nesta asked coldly. I fought the urge to shiver at her tone, the sheer discontent in those few words. “So you don’t eat normal food anymore- or are you too good for it?” Rhys and I put our forks down in sync. The way her voice dripped with challenge. How Nesta was related to Feyre, well if it wasn’t for their face, I would never have guessed it.

“I can eat, drink, fuck and fight just a well as before. Better, even.” At her words, the room seemed to heat up ever so slightly. Feyre herself being the source. I felt my eyes go wide at the thought of what could happen. Tempers flaring from both sides of the room.

“Can you really fly?” Elain asked Azriel. Trying to break the tension.

“Yes. We’re called Illyrians, a race of winged warriors.”

“Is it not frightening to be up so high?” She all but batted her eyelashes at him. I might have put a little bit more behind my fork as I picked at the food in front of me. He kept an even tone as he answered all of her questions. I could quickly tell Nesta was losing her patience, however small it was to begin with.

“If we’re all done eating then this meal is over.” She said as she walked out of the room. Leaving the rest of us reeling.

“Three rooms was rather generous of her.” I joked with Feyre as we walked around the house.

“If you want to go back, try to ask Nesta…”

“We’ll make it work.” I cut her off, I would never admit it outloud but there was something unnerving about Nesta. An intensity that set my teeth on edge. Plus, the clear disdain she holds for her sister ticked a certain nerve in me. How someone could be so callous towards a sibling that had sacrificed so much for them, I couldn’t imagine.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” Feyre said with a private laugh. I really did try to keep my tone neutral

“She seems very…” I didn’t have a kind word to say. My anger at the female clouded over anything else I could say about her. Feyre just nodded at me.

We both went to our separate rooms for the night. And I had just fallen asleep when a knock at the door woke me up. I was surprised to see Azriel at my door, expecting Rhys or maybe Feyre. “Cassian snores. Really loudly.” Azriel said in a softer tone that I knew he could use. I covered my mouth to hide the laugh that escaped me. He smiled my favorite lopsided smile at me and I opened the door to let him in.

This wasn’t out of the ordinary. Azriel and I had shared a bed many times, and had fallen asleep on each other even more times. I still remember me begging him to stay when my screaming had woken him up. But for some reason, the heat of his body behind me felt very different this time. We weren’t touching, not even his wings brushed up against me. His shadows curled around the edge of the bed like a sleeping dog. He might have well been right on top of me for how much I could sense his presence. I turned over onto my side, pulling my side of the blanket tighter around myself and tried to even my breathing with his. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to escape his smell as it wrapped around me. It only added to the overwhelming feeling of him. I squeezed my eyes tighter, pleading with myself to ignore him. To act like nothing had changed in my feelings for him. That my simple crush was crumbling out of my control into something more. Something I did not want to think about with him merely feet away from me.

I woke up warm. So warm that I burrowed myself back into the source of the warmth. Eyes shut, I basked in the feeling with a small content noise leaving my throat. The slight shift under me had my eyes flying open. Remembering exactly what had happened last night. Squinting the morning light out of my eyes, I took note of the arm wrapped around my waist. The way I was pulled tight against Azriel’s chest. My whole body flushed suddenly his body heat threatened to smother me. I tried to subtly slip out of his hold, but the motion only made his arm tighten around me more. I was pressed tight enough around him that I could feel every plane of his chest, every bit of muscle pressed up against me. I closed my eyes and said a prayer to whatever god would get me out of this situation. I struggled a little bit more, I felt my backside make contact with his hips. My actions caused a groan to echo in his chest, the noise making me freeze completely, scared to even breathe wrong.

I waited for a few moments before I continued my actions, being extremely careful of where exactly I was putting my weight. I let out a heavy breath when I managed to wiggle out of his hold. Azriel only rolled over and grabbed the pillow I had been half resting on. A smile snuck onto my face at the action. His shadows, up until then ignored, circled around my arm and that only seemed to make him stir more. He groaned again, moving over onto his back.

My eyes landed on his face and I nearly jumped out of the bed when I heard him rasp, “You’re staring princess.” I was thankful that his eyes were still closed as I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Moving ever so slowly, I reached for one of the discarded pillows by the foot of the bed. His hand had already come up to stop it before I could toss it at his head.

“Now that wasn’t very nice.” His morning voice finally hit me, Azriel’s voice had always been on the lower side but laced with sleep, it bordered on sinful. The slight huskiness to it had me scrambling out of the bed, all but running to the bathroom. His light laughter hit my ears as the door closed. My head landed against the wooden door, running my hands over my face. I decided a cold bath would be in my best interest.

My mind kept wandering to the male outside the door as I peeled off my night clothes, thankfully Feyre had convinced me to bring longer, sturdier nightwear than I normally would have worn or else I think I would have lost my everloving mind last night. That groan running through my mind again had me all but diving into the bathtub.

I sat in the bath like a coward until I heard the door open and shut. I waited a few more moments before I finally pulled myself. I wrapped a towel around myself and walked timidly out of the bathing room, peaking out first to make sure it was all clear. Luckily, it was empty. A stupid twinge of disappointment runs through me and I push it aside. There were bigger issues for today.

I was thoroughly impressed with the progress Feyre had made. She had been able to light, drown and relight the candle a handful of times. My job was really only to stand as a buffer between her and Rhys. Be able to control the situation if she lost too much control of her powers.

“Maybe you should go.”

“Why?

“I can’t concentrate when you’re breathing down my neck.” She snapped at him. Before this could get any more flirty, I tugged on my brother's arm. Leaving the candle with her.

“Why do you insist on godding her like that?” I asked when we had gotten some distance.

“Because it’s fun.” I shot him a glare, “Alright, because it gets her out of her own head. It works. Plus I won’t deny it’s fun.”

“There he is.” I mutter. An hour or so had passed and I saw Rhys gathering a small bundle of food and a piece of paper to send along to Feyre. He hastily scribbled something on it but I didn’t care to read it. Barely a moment passed before the paper returned. Back and forth it went until it remained with her.A second passed, then another. My stomach sank. Rhys was already grabbing my arm to winnow us back to that clearing.

Nothing could prepare me for the sight in front of us. Feyre held by the neck by an Attor. Neither of us hesitated. It was as simple as breathing, blinding the Attor. It howled in rage as Rhys’ power exploded out of him. Feyre kicked her way out of its arms and I was instantly at her side. Crouching to pick her off the snow covered ground. The Atorr was bound in tendrils of inky-darkness.

“I was wondering when we would see your ugly face again. Answer my question and you can go back to your master.” Rhys all but purred.

“Whore.” Was all the answer he received. I reached out to my powers again, the Atorrs scream echoed through the clearing as he lost both his sight and hearing. Rhys nodded his head and I let it fade back into me. Breathing heavily, I knew I didn’t have another time in me.

“I was sent to get her.” the Attor paused. “I don’t know why.” Words did not stop spilling from the Attors mouth. A small satisfied smirk graced my face as I felt Azriel and Cassian land beside me.

“Next time you go after her, I’ll kill first and ask questions later.” Rhys said before Azriel and the Attor vanished. I shuddered at the knowledge of what was to come. How when I found Azriel later, he would be cleaning truth-teller until the blade gleamed again.

Cassian grabbed my hand and scooped me up in his arms. The distant shouting of Rhys and Feyre was enough to make him laugh. “Let’s leave them to kill each other in peace.”

“Who do you think would win?”

“My money’s on Feyre.” I laughed as he took off, flying us back to Velaris.

Taglist:@nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams

I think that was everyone that asked to be tagged, as always let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

94 notes · View notes

cottagec0relover21 · 3 days

Note

hii!! i first wanted to say that you're doing well and taking care of yourself :) could i request headcanons for chilchuck from delicious in dungeon where the reader is kind of like the bard of the party? and maybe they stay up late writing songs and chil ends up saying up with them? you can do what you like with it other than that but i like sharing ideas (and i love chilchuck :3) i hope you have a good day!! 💜💚

Hiii! I'm so happy to get a request, I forgot how exciting it was to open my askbox and read that someone wanted me to write them something (can you tell youre the first one yet?). I know you asked for headcannons, but I got carried away and ended up making it a fic I believe, by the way I wrote it. I still hope you like it! If not I'll try my best to specifically do headcannons next time if you ask 🌸✨️ (also have a good day too)

"Late Night Songs"

[Chilchuck Tims x Bard!reader]

Warnings: none - gn!bard!reader - fluff

Being the bard of the group was rather hard. Why? Well, writing songs and seeing if they ended up sounding good wasn't easy. (y/n) needed a lot of creativity for that. Luckily for them, they had a source for it: Chilchuck.

Yes, that guy in their group everyone treated like a child sometimes just because of his height. And while it was very adorable, yes, (y/n) saw a lot of depth in his personality.

Tonight they had decided to stay up, which many might say was not a good idea considering the fact they were exploring a dungeon. But they didn't care, they wanted to write, to compose something new.

And so they stared at the sheet of paper in front of them, their instrument by their side as they sat away from the fire so as to not bother or wake up the rest.

Entranced in their thoughts, they didn't notice when Chilchuck stirred in his bedroll to then wake up with a huff at the inability of going back to sleep, sitting up and looking at the fire that had not gone out yet.

That's when with his amplified hearing, he heard the sound of a pen writing down on a paper.

He looked behind him and found (y/n), sitting rather far from them. When had they woken up? Or had they not been able to sleep at all? What were they writing that was so important at this time?

All those questions filled his head as he got up slowly, trying to not make much noise for everyone's sake.

(y/n) raised their head at the sound of rustling and found their muse, standing up and looking at them, now approaching. He rubbed the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to them and sat by their side. —What are you doing up so late?— His groggy voice asked softly.

—I'm trying to write a song, or to at least think of a new melody, but I can't seem to come up with anything— they said as they looked at him, noticing a sleepy smile.

Chilchuck sighed, looking at the rest of the party, all in a deep sleep. —Well I can't seem to fall sleep anymore, I'm really not comfortable with how hard the floor feels today. Mind if I stay up with you?— He took a quick peek at the paper, but saw nothing written. They really had some artistic block, huh?

(y/n) smiled at their question, excited to finally have spend some peaceful time alone with him— Not at all, you might help inspire my new song in fact— they winked, and Chilchuck felt his heart leap in his chest at the gesture. He really hoped the darkness of the night helped hide the embarrassment in his face. It was a simple wink, what was wrong with him? he thought, shaking his head.

He chuckled softly, his gaze moving away from them for a moment in embarrassment— Don't say those things— he rubbed the back of his neck— thank you though, it's... flattering— he admitted with a sheepish smile.

—In fact, you've always been my inspiration. I'm not gonna lie to you— God his heart was about to stop. Had he heard them right? What did that even mean?

—I have?— He didn't know how to ask without looking too excited about it.

—Of course, you're practically my muse— they noticed him staring with slightly wide eyes at their sudden confession.— I don't know but– you just have something that always makes me stare and it makes the inspiration bubble up inside of me— okay today was definitely going to be his funeral. Chilchuck swallowed harshly, a blush definitely burning bright on his cheeks as he kept silent, his brain failing to come up with an answer.

He watched them suddenly gasp and start to write down something on the paper that rested on their thighs. (y/n) mumbled to themselves as they kept writing, a sudden urge of inspiration rushing through them.

They look up again quickly at him, a light in their eyes.— Ah– I almost forgot to thank you.— they smiled at him with sincerity and gave his hand a quick squeeze, at which he just nodded, humming in response as they watched them write down their ideas, praying to whatever deity was out there to make his blush go away.

He would've never guessed he was helpful in more ways than just picking locks and finding traps. But thanks to them, now he knows he is, for (y/n) at least, a source of inspiration. And their heart swelled with emotion and pride at that.

#chilchuk dungeon meshi #sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language #chilchuk tims #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #fanfic #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader

59 notes · View notes

spiderlilyserendipity · 1 day

Text

Responsibility 🔞🖤

**Minors DNI! This is content for adults only! To read my SFW works, please see my masterlist.**

Summary: You’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. Luckily for you, Hoseok knows you well enough to know when you need pampering.

Tags: Dom!Hoseok, Sub!Y/N, minimal plot, established relationship, dollification, safe words established, she calls him owner, PRAISE!!!!!, nonverbal sub space, oral (m. recieving), multiple orgasms (f. recieving), breeding kink (I didn't even mean to put it in this fic I swear but I can't fucking stop myself anymore send help), aftercare!!!, light angst (oopsie ✨), fluff at the end.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do that obviously lol)

W/C: 3970 (3.9K)

A/N: Hello everyone!! Sorry I disappeared once again, I just realized the last time I posted here was in NOVEMBER???? For the amount of BTS x Y/N writing I do it doesn't add up... I have been in a veryyyy big writer’s slump ALTHOUGH I have made some really good progress with a bigger series I hope to get out to you guys soon! These last few weeks have been a bit rough for me, so here is something a bit chiller with my beloved Dom!Hoseok x Y/N.

You’re in one of those moods again where everything feels too much.

It’s not necessarily your fault, but you’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. You’ve known this about yourself for a long time, but you can’t help but get trapped in it.

It starts for you with a big project at work. You only volunteered to help out because no one else did, and it led to you being given more responsibility than your payroll even calls for. Initially, you tried to back out of it and make excuses, but your boss pushed forward with his own agenda and you never could. Now, you’re stuck doing work that isn’t really even yours without extra pay and with significantly more stress.

You’ve regretted it since the start, but you thought you’d be fine until today.

Today, you made a small mistake and your boss chewed you out for it in front of everyone. It wasn’t even a big deal, but your boss was in a bad mood to begin with and you just happened to be the person in the line of fire. But that small incident flared up something inside you—a deeply rooted fear of not being good enough.

And now, you find yourself plummeting down a rabbit hole of negative self-talk that really has nothing to do with work or anyone else. It has to do with you.

“What are you doing spacing out?” Hoseok’s laugh jolts you out of your thoughts. You look away from the TV, where your boyfriend is smiling warmly down at you. “Had a long day at work?”

You purse your lips. You don’t really want to get into it. It’s a bad habit, but you don’t like to drag Hoseok into your negativity. He has enough stress at his own job. “No, just tired.” You lie, getting off the couch.

“Y/N.” Hoseok says your name, wrapping a hand around your wrist. His voice is low, worried. You avoid his eyes. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.” You lie again, but you know Hoseok can see right through you. Of course he can, after all these years together.

You take a quick shower in the ensuite bathroom of your shared bedroom, then step out and run yourself a bath as a treat after a long day. You smile to yourself at the array of different bath bombs Hoseok keeps stocked for you, picking out one with a candy-like scent for tonight.

You drop the bath bomb in the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a shimmery baby pink. You step back in, sinking down into the hot water with a sigh. It’s not enough to take away the negative thoughts in your head, but it does take the edge off.

You’re almost dozing off in the bath when the bathroom door opens. Hoseok steps inside, then closes the door behind him. “That smells so good.” He comments, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid beside you.

You smile. “Yeah.”

The air is still slightly tense between you. Hoseok watches your face for a moment, then smiles. “This scent is nice, isn’t it? I’m glad I listened to the salesperson.” He asks, rolling up his sleeves. You wonder what he’s doing when he leans in and begins to massage your shoulders. “You’re too tense, though.” He comments under his breath.

You look away. With one small touch, Hoseok breaks down your walls. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble.

“Don’t deserve what, sweetheart?” Hoseok asks gently, his thumbs now working into the dips of your collarbone.

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. “Everything. Don’t deserve your touch.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok asks in a low, patient voice that sends heat to your core. You know exactly what he’s doing, and although you want it, you can’t let yourself have it. You try to push away, to reach for the tub’s stopper and drain the bath away. But Hoseok stops you with a firm hand over your wrist. “I’m not done yet, sweetheart.” He warns you gently, pushing you back against the tub.

Hoseok’s eyes flicker down to your cleavage, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He can still see the hesitance in your eyes, the self-doubt that makes you fear submission to him. “It seems like you have a lot of thoughts in your head right now. Would you like me to give you a break, to let me do all the thinking? And you get to relax, just like a pretty little doll?” He purrs, causing you to rub your thighs together.

In the low light, Hoseok’s eyes glint with satisfaction at the effect his words have on you. “Oh, you would like that. Unfortunately I need to hear a special word before I can do that. Does my pretty girl remember what that word is?”

“Candy.” You murmur.

Hoseok beams, running a hand through your hair. “Good girl.” He emphasizes, making the fire in your belly burn brighter. “What a gorgeous doll I own.”

You gasp softly as Hoseok’s hands move down to cup your breasts, toying with your nipples. “Owner.” You whisper.

“Yes, doll?” Hoseok replies easily, continuing to rub the now-hard nubs.

“It’s cold.” You whisper. By now, the hot water has become lukewarm and you’re starting to get chilly. Hoseok hums, leaning in to kiss your breasts.

“Is that right?” He coos at you. His hands move down your torso, then part your thighs. You whimper as Hoseok plays with your clit, then drags a finger along your entrance. “Hmm…Feels nice and warm here though.” Hoseok makes an expression of fake-confusion, then slides a finger inside. You whine, gripping his forearm with both of your hands.

Hoseok chuckles, then kisses your forehead. He cups your mound, looking directly at you as he does it. “I don’t think I want to get my clothes wet. Let’s get you up and dressed.”

With that, Hoseok pulls the stopper. You watch the water drain down, until you’re left sitting in the empty tub. Hoseok stands, then puts a hand under your chin, guiding you to stand. His eyes move down your naked body, full of controlled lust. He has you step out of the tub, then picks a towel off the shelf. “So wet.” He chides, taking your hand in his and drying each finger diligently. You watch him as he carefully works his way up your arm, then dries your armpit for you. He repeats the motion on the other side.

Then, Hoseok pushes your chin up, expecting you to look up. You obey. He dries off your neck, then your collarbones. You whine as he takes his time with your breasts, thumbing at them through the towel. “So, so wet.” Hoseok chides, then pinches one nipple. “This is why pretty things like you are hard work. If owner forgets to take good care of you, you become so messy. Isn’t that right, doll?”

“Yes, owner.” You murmur.

Hoseok lightly guides your chin down, allowing you to look at him again. “But messy girls are fun, too, because then owner has fun cleaning you and setting you straight.” He says, forcing your thighs apart to dry off your inner thighs. You purse your lips as he takes his sweet time drying your thighs and calves. Hoseok smiles up at you as he wipes off your feet. “It’s been so long since I got you a mani-pedi. I should do that, then take you out and get you some outfits. We can stop by a jewellery store, too. TIffany’s? No, maybe Cartier would be better.”

You listen quietly as Hoseok talks to himself, appraising your body as he does. You’re not meant to voice your opinion for things like this—you’re meant to take what he gives you. You let Hoseok turn you around, then begin wiping down your back. It’s mindless, but that’s the point. To submit, to gratefully take what you’re given. But you can’t help the nagging voice in your mind. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble. Hoseok’s hands pause.

Hoseok scoffs. “How can a doll know what their worth is? What, are you some kind of AI?” He comments, continuing to work at you.

“Deserve punishment.” You mumble. “I’m bad.”

Hoseok hums as if he agrees, then puts a hand on your ass. You flinch and he notices. “Do you think I’d play with a bad doll?” Hoseok whispers, his voice dangerous in your ear.

You answer immediately. “No, owner.”

“That’s right!” He says cheerfully, turning you back around. Taking your face in one hand, Hoseok grins at you, but warning flashes in his eyes. “My doll doesn’t get punished. My doll is a good girl who listens and takes what I give her. Has owner been slacking in pampering his doll that she’s forgotten who she belongs to?”

“No, owner.” You repeat.

Hoseok looks displeased. You feel the urge to cry, hating his displeasure. You want to be good, but you don’t feel good enough!

Hoseok takes your hand and guides you into the ensuite closet. Still naked, you stand with your hands clasped as Hoseok (still fully dressed) opens a bag at the back of the closet, one you’ve never seen before. He pulls out two pieces of lingerie—one is a simple pair of white silk panties, and the other is a white, translucent babydoll with a small white bow in the middle. Without asking if you like it, Hoseok comes over to you and lifts you up onto the island in the closet. He puts the panties on you first, then the top. “So pretty.” He says, then rubs your cheek proudly. You preen at his touch.

Hoseok brings you to the bedroom next, sitting you down in front of your vanity. He hums to himself as he picks up your comb and brushes your hair. He decides to do a French braid tonight, then ties it in place with a little bow hair tie at the bottom. You both know it won’t look like that soon. “Such a pretty thing.” He praises you, eyes boring on you in the mirror. He taps your lips once, and you open your mouth. Hoseok spits in your mouth, then settles a hand on your throat. “Swallow.” He orders, then beams as he feels your throat bob from swallowing.

The dom reaches between your legs again, moving aside your underwear as he slips a finger into you again. By now, you’re much wetter. Hoseok laughs, then holds your face in one hand, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. You watch your own helpless face as your dom fingers you with amusement on his face. “So weak. Is this all you can take?”

“Owner, owner—” You whimper, putting a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he slips another finger inside.

“What, now you remember who owns you?” Hoseok asks, reaching down with his free hand to rub at your clit. He laughs at your fucked out face. “Dolls can’t come without permission. You should know that by now, sweetheart.”

“Owner, please, please let me come, please—” You plead.

“Five. Four.” Hoseok counts you down. You bite your lip, trying to hold back. “Three, two, one, now.”

Your whole body shakes as Hoseok works you through your orgasm. You feel come drip out of you, wetting your panties and the chair underneath you. But you don’t care at all, not with Hoseok murmuring praises in your ear. “What an obedient little cunt, just like I trained you. It’s like you were made to belong to me.”

You whine. Hoseok has you stand up, turning you half-sideways. You look in the mirror as the dom runs his clean hand down your hair gently, then rubs both hands over your hips. You breathe in sharply as you meet Hoseok’s eyes. He smirks, then digs his hands into your asscheeks, slightly spreading you. “What a messy girl. Only took two fingers and you’re all shiny down here.” He laughs, running a finger over your inner thigh, where your pre-come coats the skin.

“Owner.” You mumble against Hoseok’s collarbone.

He beams. “Yes, my doll?”

You both know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. It’s not your place to ask him to fuck you, since you’re meant to let him do as he pleases. So instead, you just press yourself in against him, placing your cheek against his collarbone. Hoseok knows what you mean without saying it. He presses a kiss to your hair, then presents his left hand—still covered by your juices—to your mouth and sticks his thumb in. You suck obediently, looking directly at your dom. “Such a useful mouth.” He purrs. You let out a small sound at his praise. Hoseok withdraws his thumb, then switches to give you his index and middle fingers. As you do that, the dom meticulously straightens your hair, ensuring not a hair is out of place. Finally, he gives you his ring and pinky finger to lick. You don’t miss the emerald and diamond ring on his ring finger—ensuring to get your juices out of every crevice around the ring. Hoseok’s jaw tightens at the sight.

The dom intertwines your hands, then brings you over to the bed. Using his free hand, he pulls back the covers, then guides you under. You watch Hoseok grab the TV remotes and return. You glance at the hard member in Hoseok’s pants as he sits in bed next to you. Knowing what you’re thinking, Hoseok pulls his pants and underwear down in one go—revealing the hard, leaking member. “I wonder if that movie is out yet…” Hoseok says to no one in particular, pretending to be interested in finding some movie. Without saying a word, Hoseok entangles a hand in your hair, guiding you down toward his member under the covers. Your breath sharpens at the feeling of being used to pleasure him as he watches a movie, just a little thing for him to control.

You start to lick from your position at his side, but Hoseok frowns at you. Your eyes widen. Have you done something wrong? “Hmm…” He says, then reaches down and hooks a finger into the hip part of your panties. Using them, he pulls you down so you’re sitting on his calves. He lets go, then returns the hand to your hair. For added effect, he tucks the covers in around you, leaving just your head up for you to suck him off. You whimper, loving the feeling. You’re his toy, his doll.

You begin sucking Hoseok off, doing your absolute best to please him as you work at him with your mouth and cup his balls with your hands. Hoseok runs a hand through your hair gently, idly, like he’s barely paying attention when you know he couldn’t care less about what’s on screen. Even like this, you know you’re his priority.

You lick the slit of his member and Hoseok hisses. “Oh, that’s it.” He praises you, tightening the hand in your hair slightly. “What a good girl. So useful.”

You moan, accidentally pressing yourself down against his calf. Hoseok notices immediately. “Is my doll getting restless? Is me playing with your mouth not enough?”

“No, owner. I-I’m grateful.” You protest weakly.

Hoseok’s eyes glint dangerously. “Yeah? Then why are you rubbing yourself against my leg like a puppy in heat?” He sits you up, bringing you onto his lap. You purse your lips as Hoseok feels how wet you are again with his hand. “Good girls don’t hide their feelings, sweetheart. You know that.”

“Yes, owner.” You say, looking at him through your lashes.

Hoseok tsks. He slots his thigh between your legs. You sigh as he pushes up against you, loving the feeling of his hot skin against your aching clit. “If it feels good, you need to show me, sweetheart. Now, look at me and show me how good it feels. And don’t look away.” He orders. You swallow. Hoseok settles a hand to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. You slowly begin rubbing yourself against his thigh, looking directly at your dom. Hoseok watches you intently, ignoring the movie playing in the background. The lust in his eyes is illuminated by the changing colours from the screen.

Your desperation mounts embarrassingly fast with Hoseok watching you rub yourself against him. Knowing that, Hoseok taps your chin, indicating for you to open your mouth. You take his thumb in your mouth, sucking as best as you can but you’re not consistent—the seal you form around his thumb is broken all too often by the moans and sighs you let out. Hoseok smirks at that, knowing you can’t handle it. “Suck properly.” He orders. You swallow, then wrap your lips properly around his thumb. “That’s it. Who’s my good little slut?” Hoseok asks.

You whine, grinding faster. “Is it you?” He teases. “Hmm…I thought my doll knew how to come when I told her though. Let’s see. Come now.”

With a single order, you get your release. Your whole body shakes, and Hoseok pulls you in close. He wraps his arms around you, using one hand to cup the back of your head as you shake from your orgasm. “So obedient. Just like I trained you. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You chant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You’re almost crying at this point, feeling so taken care of and loved. “So grateful. Thank you, owner.”

Hoseok pulls back slightly, cupping your face in both of his hands. He kisses you, slow and passionate. “Can you handle more, baby?”

“Yes, owner.” You answer, feeling soft. Hoseok’s eyes sparkle. He knows that tone of your voice. You’re slipping further and further into your sub space, and it won’t be long until it’s hard for words to come out altogether. But Hoseok knows your body and your limits. He’ll give you exactly what he knows you can take.

“Go get your plug.” He orders. You crawl to the other side of the bed, reaching into the nightstand. Although the two of you have various toys, you know he means the small toy shaped like a teardrop with a little gem at the flared end. You bring it to him, presenting it with both hands. Hoseok takes it, then guides you to lay down. You lay back, feeling loved and safe. Hoseok will take care of you. He always does. Hoseok leans over you. “Show me your colours.” He says, knowing words are starting to slip away from you already. You squeeze Hoseok’s shoulder once to indicate green, twice for yellow, and three times for red. Hoseok kisses your forehead in praise. “What’s your colour right now?”

You squeeze once. “Such a good listener.” He praises you. He checks you’re ready, then slowly slides into you. You pant as he bottoms out, feeling full.

“O-Owner.” Your voice comes out weak. “P-Please.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Hoseok reassures you. He allows you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. Fill your womb with my seed.”

You clench around him. “P-Please.” Then, you whine into his ear. “B-Breed me, owner.”

Hoseok growls, planting his hands on either side of your waist. He begins to move slowly, but you know he’s holding himself back for you. “Yeah?” He asks. “Want me to get you pregnant, sweetheart? Take care of you, take responsibility?”

You moan at the idea of being safe and taken care of. For someone who always pushes herself too far, you know deep down you’d love that. And Hoseok knows it, too, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. He knows you. Soon, Hoseok’s thrusts become faster and faster, knowing you’ve adjusted enough for him. Your moans become louder, and the nails you dig into Hoseok’s skin start to leave deeper indents. Soon, you’re arching your back. Hoseok’s own hips start to stutter. He reaches for your hair, tangling a firm hand in it. You sigh happily at his firmness. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Hoseok promises, reaching down to rub your clit. “You can do it, baby. Ready? 3…2…1…Now.”

Your orgasm wracks through you again, making you shake a third time tonight. At the same time, hot seed fills you, making you feel insane with pleasure. Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes, landing on the pillow. Hoseok wipes your cheeks immediately, then pulls you in as he lays on top of you. You feel so safe with him both inside you and on top of you, sandwiched between him and the sheets.

“T-Thank you, thank you.” You repeat, digging your nails into Hoseok’s shoulders. “Thank you, owner. So grateful.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” Hoseok says, smiling at you. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. Even though he doesn’t say it, you see the relief in Hoseok’s eyes as you finally smile sincerely tonight. You lay there for some time and catch your breath. You kiss and hold one another, feeling comfortable. Then, Hoseok slowly slides out of you. You shiver as the seed begins to slip out of you, but Hoseok guides it back in with the plug. You clench around it, feeling pleased. “That’s my girl. So proud of you, sweetheart.”

You lay peacefully as Hoseok gets up, leaving the room momentarily. He returns with a glass of water and two granola bars for you. You’re still quite far into your sub space, so words are a bit difficult for you right now. Knowing that, Hoseok just quietly helps you sit up and feeds you your snack. Once you’re done, he carefully helps you drink the water.

“Should we shower now?” Hoseok asks. You purse your lips, looking down at your intertwined hands. He laughs. “Okay. In twenty minutes then.”

You smile, letting Hoseok pull you back under the covers for some cuddles before shower time. “Sweetheart.” Hoseok says, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he spoons you. You hum. “Remember you don’t need to hide from me, okay? If anything is bothering you, you tell me. I won’t think you’re any less good at your job if you talk to me about it, I promise. And although I know you would never give up your passion, I want you to know you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

You blink, craning your head to look at your boyfriend. Hoseok (despite the blush on his face) looks resolute. “I’m not kidding when I say I’ll take responsibility for you. I really can take good care of you.”

You giggle. It feels like a proposal. “I know, Hoseokie.” You mumble, cuddling back against him. You sigh, closing your eyes against the pillow as Hoseok gently rubs a hand over your belly. “I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” Hoseok presses another kiss in your hair. Just then, he glances at the clock. “Okay, twenty minutes over. Let’s go.” He says. You pout, but he just grins at you. “A deal’s a deal, baby. Come on, let me get you cleaned up so I can change the sheets.”

You pout, holding your arms up. Hoseok laughs, tipping his head back. “Actually, I change my mind. I don’t want such a spoiled wife.”

“Too bad.” You mumble with a smile as he scoops you up into his arms like a bride. By now, your headspace has worn off but you feel so soft and content. “You have to take responsibility for me.”

You and Hoseok laugh together as he carries you to the bathroom.

🖤🖤🖤

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'd like to thank the Academy and fucking 2022 Mama red carpet Hoseok for inspiring me to stay up and write this fic when I have work at 8 am (but just look at him AGHHHHHHHHH). Also, requests are open <333

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff

77 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 2 days

Note

ohman ohman- listen-

I've been reading the kazu/scara/albedo/xiao posts (modern au or not) and it just got me thinking about how much stronger men are compared to women-

It's totally accurate how they end up dominating reader with their strength. Like I'm not weak at all irl, but god help if I can ever beat the skinniest dude in an arm wrestling match and these shorter and slim boys got me feeling all type of ways. Like OKAY, maybe darling still has a decent fighting chance with them vs with boys like childe etc but the formers' arms, hands, legs, fingers are still bigger and longer than yours dhdjsksj. For the incel ones (because they don't have that supernatural strength and all as in the canon AU) it might just be one of the few things that boosts their ego, lol!

So real omg I remember there was a point in time where like, I thought that guys were only stronger because they were bigger/worked out more and that if a guy and a girl were the same size and worked out the same then they'd be equally strong, and that scrawny guys were weak… as you can imagine I got humbled so fast lmao

(also thank you anon after the e-girl post I’ve been eager to make a post with all the modern AU boys :3)

Deeply in love with the thought of both parties having the gradual realization of just how drastic the male-female gap in strength is — a devastating slap in the face from reality for darling, and a euphoric power trip for him.

Especially with the modern AU for those boys, like… sure, you both know deep down that guys are naturally somewhat stronger, but neither of you realized just how much.

Society’s tendency to shy away from acknowledging the topic has perhaps left darling a bit naive…. dangerously so. Like, playing-with-fire levels of naive, cocky and bratty towards boys like them even after they’ve kidnapped you, thinking that well, they’re short, lean boys, so surely they can’t hurt you, and if they try you can just fight him off, right? It’s not like he’s a broad bulky guy, whom you’d actually have reason to fear…

You may get the chance to notice it more subtly at first — you watch as he picks up something rather heavy around the apartment and think to yourself how odd it is that there’s no strain on his expression, no grunting as one would do when performing physically strenuous tasks, in fact he picks it up and carries it over with a perfectly neutral expression, like it’s not even difficult… maybe it's just not as heavy as you thought…?

But it quickly proves to be what you fear — the reality is you have severely underestimated this aspect of sex difference.

Xiao actually has the most wholesome, tolerable version of this. He has a tendency for not verbalizing his thoughts, he just sort of… does things. One of the more common manifestations of this is that he just. Picks you up.

You’ve been sitting over there doing your own thing for a while like you requested, but now he’s lonely and sad and he wants you over there with him so he just walks over, locks his arms around you and suddenly your feet are off the ground.

He just sorta disrupts you from whatever you're doing and carries you like you're a limp sack of flour on a regular basis, setting (or throwing) you down wherever he wants you to be instead. It's easier than asking you to move. It doesn't even really occur to him that this surpasses your assumption of his strength capacity until you mention it… and at first he thinks nothing of it, but gradually, hearing you grunt in surprise each time you're hoisted upward and the way your feet kick outward actually starts to feel quite nice. A little ego boost, even if he's quieter about it than the others. He didn't realize he was so strong compared to you.

And then you start coming to him to get him to open jars and pick up things you can't, and while he does it all with the same fairly melancholy demeanor as always, internally it actually makes him very happy and prideful each time, makes him feel needed and important and all. He focuses less on the aspect of your weakness and using it against you (unless he’s mad), and more focuses on being strong and hoping that you like it, carefully coordinating efforts to show off in ways that he thinks are subtle enough to seem unintentional (spoiler: they’re not). Unfortunately, mixing protein powder into energy drinks does significantly impact their taste, but he views it as worth it. In the fantasies that play out in his head, maybe one day you’ll even outright tell him he’s sooooo strong in that cute voice like the girls in visual novels do.

Thankfully he's not too outwardly obnoxious about it, and he doesn't degrade you for it (again, except maybe a bit passive-aggressively, but only if you're being mean and hurt his secretly very sensitive feelings first, OR unintentionally due to his dense nature and consequent tendencies to make very blunt statements without thinking them through). He may or may not be deliberately tightening the jars each time he closes them to ensure you need him for it next time, though.

Scara is the inverse because he doesn't really see or emphasize it as himself being strong, more like you being weak.

But no, maybe he's wrong. At least in that case, he has his whole body weight to rely on keeping you down, so that's probably why it felt so easy…? Until then you're being whiny and bratty and he pins you to the wall instead, wondering why you're acting so upset yet not actually fighting him for real… then he realizes you are actually trying. You’re not just half-heartedly tugging in a whiny way, you’re like, actually trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, and giving it your all.

He's also caught off guard by it, early on. Here he had all these backup plans to subdue you if you managed to writhe your way out of his grasp or fight him off, but then in your initial struggle, he quickly realizes how incredibly easy it is to keep you pinned down, and no such plans are necessary.

…And that’s the best you can manage? Seriously? That’s how much weaker you are? It's almost astounding. The shock quickly transitions to pure amusement and satisfaction, and once this difference is discovered, he's going to use it to make your life hell.

He loves the newfound discovery, and actively exercises it at every opportunity. It scratches the itch of those sadistic impulses just perfectly and soothes any bruises to his ego, especially with how apparent it is that it upsets you, how you struggle harder and harder and your eyes prick with humiliated tears and you groan in frustration. So he just ensures he utilizes his superior strength constantly, always holding you down or grabbing you by the arm and keeping you in place, always holding you into uncomfortable positions in bed, and the more you struggle to no avail, the more he seems to enjoy it.

It's actually kind of hilarious too, how you can just be running your mouth and snarling at him one second and pleading and teary-eyed the next, forcibly bent over and held down with your face smushed against the countertop, begging to be let back up, trying with all your might to push your palms onto the surface and push yourself back up to no avail. Him mocking you the entire time doesn't exactly help you keep the tears in, either, but when you start crying it just makes things worse, since that's just used against you to tell you how emotional you are. Emotional and dumb and weak, girls are really such a handful to deal with, sigh…

You can tell how much he enjoys constantly reinforcing your awareness, reminding you of the difference, and it infuriates you — and the more it infuriates you, the funnier and more satisfying it is for him, and the more he does it, and the miserable cycle continues. The only way you were able to actually get some leverage was by insinuating that he only enjoys it because he needs the ego boost as psychological compensation for being so small for a guy… and while you know you're right, the resulting soreness was ultimately not worth the momentary satisfaction of saying so.

Albedo is the most obnoxious about it because one, he's the most acutely aware of it from the start and will make sure you are as well, and two, he finds the whole thing amusing. The man is whipping out the studies and Science™ to explain exactly why he has nothing to fear from you and why you'll never be able to overpower him. Blah blah skeletal muscles this, sexual dimorphism that, fiber size anaerobic muscular metabolic capacity something something… it's too confusing for you to understand, the only thing you know is how infuriating the smugness is.

It's cute to him that you initially have no concept of your inferiority. You still try and fight him and push him and take things from him, only to end up pinned down or hoisted up. Like a… dumb little animal of some kind, that walks right into an obvious trap or attacks its own reflection, is how he sees you. He has no issue telling you this either, he likes seeing how furious it makes you, knowing you can't do anything about it.

He's the worst about constantly applying this as much as he can specifically in bed, too. Keeping your hands pinned above your head, making a point to inform you that restraints aren't really necessary due to your physical inferiority. Telling you with that infuriating dry tone that if you hate it so much, surely you can summon the strength to break free… saying that always ensures you put on a funny little display of struggling.

He’s selective, though, about how he torments you, so the severity of how unbearable he makes the matter depends on how you react to it. His form of sadism is a quiet one, but still quite obvious with how he picks at your weaknesses — so if it’s something that doesn’t bother you that much, he’ll go for something else, but the more it upsets you to be reminded of how much stronger he is and why, the more outright insufferable he’ll be, ensuring you’re constantly reminded that it’s only natural — a smug gesture of faux comfort, disguised as reassurance of normality, but deep down you know it’s really intended to rub salt into the wound by reminding you that it’s essentially immutable, making you feel powerless. He’s a little bastard like that.

Although out of the four, it's by far the most amusing (or vaguely terrifying, for you) with Kazuha.

It's all so… subtle. He’s so sweet, so gentle in his voice and demeanor and mannerisms, and then you find yourself bristling as you watch him snap something in half, lift something, bend something, whatever, that you definitely would not have thought he should be able to. Something that makes you do a double take and sit there slack-jawed and wide-eyed while he continues to go about whatever he’s doing, talking about this or that in that soft voice.

And then when you watch movies laying in bed and try to wiggle away from his hold, the way you feel it tighten so hard you fear your ribs will snap, and he wraps his fingers around your wrist so hard your hand goes numb, you realize it’s not taking any effort on his end at all, he's doing it practically half-asleep.

Even though those incidents make you uneasy, he’s just so gentle-natured that it’s easy to forget and end up acting out at him yet again, getting mad and being a brat, you even go so far as to try and hit him — but he catches you by the wrist, holding your arm firmly in place.

Very firmly. So much so that, when you reflexively jerk backwards, you would have thought you were pulling against an iron chain. He doesn't budge. It makes your heart skip a beat, especially when you see the slight twitch to his smile.

And then you see his eyes widen just a bit. Perhaps surprised at how light your pulling feels, how little strain it causes him.

He never really addresses it out loud, but you can tell that he's increasingly aware from that point forward of just how big the strength gap between you is.

It's actually a bit insulting once you start noticing the shifts and changes — he doesn't tie you to the bed anymore when you sleep. Why would he? It'll be so easy to just pull you back down when he feels you move. You can easily tell that he's noticeably more at ease, he goes from having just the slightest detectable panic when you start to defy him or struggle to being completely unbothered, now that he's realized your defiance holds no weight. He starts a habit of giving you a little warning squeeze if you're making him too upset and being very very bad, just a light little tightening of the grip on your wrist or waist as if to remind you that you both know how much stronger he is than you, that your being very unwise to upset him… and you always notice how his smile grows when it shuts you up instantly.

It's honestly almost more infuriating that he does it all so quietly — you almost wish he would acknowledge it, but instead you get this quiet, unspoken realization and mutual understanding, a ‘you know he knows you know’ sort of situation, and with that mutual understanding comes your gradually increasing lack of defiance, a slow despairing acceptance… and you can tell it makes him very, very happy.

#.modern #I want to strangle them all #little bastards 😤😤#.miso

73 notes · View notes

fictional-orphan-smackdown · 2 days

Text

ROUND 3, MATCH 5!

All propaganda and what each competitor is from under the cut

Trafalgar D. Water Law (Once Piece)

Law is a genocide survivor who saw his parents' dead bodies along with experiencing a whole bunch of other messed up stuff (his sister burning to death, the people of his country being shot for being poisoned by their own government, being terminally ill, escaping the genocide by hiding under a pile of dead bodies, etc etc). After all this shit, he eventually got forcibly adopted by this one guy and dragged around the world looking for a cure for his illness. Right when Law started to trust and love his new caretaker, he is also brutally murdered in front of him. Law's life goal for the next decade is to get revenge on the person who killed his adoptive father. Vote for him bc he needs a goddamn win for once in his life. He is the people's princess and the narrative's favorite punching bag. Also, his depressed, PTSD-ridden autistic swag and scoliosis realness have captivated me body and soul

His biological parents were killed (before his eyes, by the governement) when he was 10(?). He then joined a bunch of pirates, knowing he wouldn't have much time (and will) left to live anyway. There he was sort of adopted by the Big Bad Pirate's brother, who managed to save his life, only for said brother to be killed (more or less before Law's eyes, by the Big Bad Pirate), when he was 13. You could say he was orphaned twice.

He’s literally got the double orphan special (Parents died and then the guy who took him in after them died too) that’s a 50% increase in orphannedness above your standard orphan. He’s also cool as fuck.

Law's parents were already on death row along with him and his younger sister due to a disease that shortens the life span of a person. The disease can only be passed down genetically and has afflicted everyone in the town that he has grown up in. Due to the sudden outbreak and unknown nature of the disease to the rest of the world panicked and the government closed off his city, killing everyone there. That is how his first set of parents died when he was 10, I think. Still then Law would later join a pirate crew where he would eventually be taken away 2-3 years later by Corazon, marine working undercover as a pirate in order to take down this brother, who is the captain of crew Law joined. Corazon took him in order to cure Law's disease which he still had and to get him away from Doflamingo, his brother. Over the course of 6 months the two became close with Corazon essentially becoming a father figure to Law. I am simplify this but at some point of Doflamingo catches on to Corazon being a double agent and finds him. Doflamingo then proceeds to find Corazon and shoot him in front of a chest that Law was hiding in.

Law has faced many hardships since he was a child, but used his experiences to become an extremely powerful doctor. His pirate crew theme and his Devil Fruit ability are all owed to his adoptive father. Law acts really gruff and serious most of the time, initially seeming like a cool, calculating character and feared swordsman… but one second around the Straw Hats and you quickly see just how silly he really is. He hates bread. He collects coins. He is obsessed with ninjas and superhero comic books. In one arc he just fucked around with his powers and INVENTED harpies and centaurs. Oh, and his First Mate is a polar bear. What could be better than that?

The government ordered to kill everyone in Law's country due to everyone getting "fantasy lead poisoning" disease, which was wrongfully thought to be contagious stroked. Law's family was living at the hospital when they got attacked, his parents (who were doctors) got killed and the hospital got set on fire with his little sister inside. He managed to fled the country hiding in a pile of corpses and ended up joining a pirate crew lead by Doflamingo. Law knew he had the disease and it was going to kill him in three years. Doflamingo's brother, Rosinante took Law hospital to hospital to find a cure but they always rejected him thinking the disease was contagious. Then they learned that someone had offered Doflamingo a devil fruit that could grant him immortality. The fruit could also cure Law so Rosinante stole it and made Law eat it. He then made sure Law could escape Doflamingo and got killed by his brother.

dude spent his childhood getting thrown out of windows, while dying from a deadly disease (that was eventually cured) but while he was still showing symptoms of the disease no one would go near him out of fear and disgust, save for his father figure.

nothing can ever go right for this man. its fucking hilarious in the series and makes for some wonderful angst content. i want everyone who has not watched or read One Piece to know that, for half of his 'main' arc, he's carried around like a potato sack by MULTIPLE people. he is a damsel in despair. he didn't even need to be carried, he honestly could've walked, but he had to save that energy so he could take the like 17 lead bullets out of him. he's always getting shot or thrown out a window and he's severely injured more often than not. he's also a doctor/surgeon, one that should be able to cure incurable diseases, yet his pathetic loserboy ass is too busy being emo to worry about the several gunshot wounds and internal bleeding. god help this man but also don't because honestly it's really fucking funny

Ok, FIRST, when he was a tiny frog-disecting little kid, him and his family and island contacted a disease equivalent to cancer BUT his fam didn't die from that. No, no, his parents got gunned down by the military and his little sis was burned alive with the rest of his house, so, yeah, very traumatic, horrific in a way that makes you very angry at yourself and life and want to oh I don't know, kill everyone and everything possible until the day you die, which won't be long because you have cancer after all. Later, after joining a mafia/cult/gang, Law meets Corazon who after like 2 years kidnaps him to try and get him healed and so they spend the next 6 months bonding, WEEEEEE!! Wait, no, NOT weeee because Cora who is now his father-figure DIES having protected and saved him, and thus bruv becomes orphaned not once, not thrice, but TWO very traumatic times! If this isn't an orphan, idk what is……

Anthony Lockwood (Lockwood and Co)

Lockwood (he's known by his surname mostly) is the mysterious, daredevil and charming founder of Lockwood and Co., a detective agency specialised in protecting people from angry -and sometimes sort of hungry- ghosts in a world where they're rampant. His agency is starting small despite Lockwood bragging it's the best in London but get more and more recognition as the series progress and the agents composing them meet success (when they're not on the verge of dying). Lockwood has open manners but hid his painful past from his coworkers to protect himself. He and George, the first teenager he recruited, are quite stunned by Lucy, a country girl who fled to London after disaster striked in her hometown. Thanks to her talent, she quickly becomes known as one of the best ghost fighter in London and finds her place in the small team despite having the same determination to hide her past than Lockwood, which draws him close to her, making George jealous, but Lockwood's manifest good skills in leadership and the three of them become fast friends while unravelling secret truths and risking their lives repeatedly

He has a lot of trauma and a lot of pain but he always smiles and always has a warm and polite attitude; he’s so protective of the ones he loves that it overrides his suicidal tendencies; at the end of the series he starts to heal from his past; he’s hot but has only two braincells.

#poll #one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood

82 notes · View notes

leupagus · 19 hours

Text

Really enjoying writing Book 2/Season 6 of this monstrosity, where instead of having Sansa and Jon fighting to regain Winterfell and all that nonsense with the "Battle of the Bastards," it's gonna be like 10K of Sansa being the Warden of the North equivalent of that mom who just needs FIVE MINUTES OF PEACE AND QUIET YOU GODDAMN KIDS

To the Lord Robin Arryn, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, and my Dear Cousin,

I write to you from Wint

"Sansa — sorry, Lady Sansa, you'll never believe—"

"Jeyne, you don't have to call me 'Lady Sansa,'" Sansa said as she looked up from her parchment. "You're the steward of Winterfell now."

Jeyne Poole, hanging onto the handle of the door and swinging it absently back and forth like she'd done back when they were ten years old, frowned. "My da always said the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were worthy of respect."

Sansa leaned back in her chair. Father had dealt with the business of the holdfast in the Library Tower, so he could wrestle with the accounts without being interrupted every twenty minutes. Sansa had always thought that a bit unfair, since it meant you had to climb all those stairs just to find him, but now she was wondering if she could perhaps build the tower twenty or thirty feet higher. The exercise would probably do her good. "Your father always called mine 'oi, you,' if I recall correctly."

The look Jeyne gave her was deeply unimpressed. "Aye, and you always complained about it. Do you want to hear about the cow loose in the guest house or not?"

erfell at last, which was the dearest wish of your beloved goodfather Petyr. His dying words were to express the hope that both his goodson and his niece be safe and secure in their homes, and I am glad to say tha

"Lady Sansa, Master Mikken has refused another dozen apprentices. He said they're all 'knuckleheaded clods who wouldn't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch." This time it was her master-at-arms, who'd been Rodrick Cassel's round-faced child named Beth when Sansa had left. Now he went by Cass and looked like he could wrestle a (very short) bear if needs be.

"I don't know a round ball fuller from a chisel punch," Sansa replied, frowning.

Cass shrugged. "Well, and nor do I. But that's near fifty lads he's turned away. We need someone helping with the forges. We've been making do with the army smiths that Prince Stannis let us—"

"Prince Stannis?" He was going to hate that.

Another shrug. "We've got to call him something, milady. You won't call him 'king,' nor will any of your bannermen, but his soldiers give us no end of trouble when we call him 'lord.' So 'prince' it is. And he is one, too, ain't he? King Robert's brother. That'd make him a prince, right?"

Sansa answered with a shrug of her own. By the time Stannis and his companies returned from the Dreadfort, everyone in the North would likely have settled on Prince Stannis, which would lead to a great deal of shouting and probably threats of lighting people on fire, but she had at least a fortnight to think of something.

"As I was saying, we can't use the Baratheon smiths forever, and the ones from our bannermen have all gone home with their bannermen. Mikken needs apprentices, and we need our forge at full strength."

"All right, let's go speak with him," Sansa sighed.

t through the goodness of Stannis, of House Baratheon, and his masterful command of the armies of the North and the Stormlands, I am now secure as Warden of the North.

Not only that, but your dear cousin, my brother Rickon has somehow survived all the danger that the North has presented, while it was under the thrall of the Ironborn and House Bolton. He is now safe and I will reu

"My lady?" Maester Wolkan peered his head into the room.

#the entire chapter is this #I think she gets interrupted 7 times #and yes once or twice she interrupts herself with FEELINGS #but still have you ever sat down to do a task and just like - EVERY ONE AND THEIR DICK NEEDS 'JUST A MINUTE OF YOUR TIME'#Sansa's about ten minutes away from putting a sign on her door that's like 'don't bother me unless you're on fire'#and even that won't help because a lot of people in Winterfell can't read so it's gonna get real D.W. for her #game of thrones motherfuckers #got: bitches get shit done #lol eta to put in the blacksmith joke I forgot to look up

43 notes · View notes

aquaquadrant · 21 hours

Note

I’m having thoughts again (the horror). You may have answered this before and I just can’t remember or find it buuuuuut

Is/was there ever a dragon in Hels? If there was could they spawn it in again or is she just dead?

“a dragon?” the player huffs a laugh, giving you an odd look. “you know dragons aren’t real, right? it’s just fantasy shit, like the sun and moon.” they shrug. “anyway, uh, if- if you’re not gonna buy somethin’ then stop wasting my fucking time and get the hell out.”

~*~

“ah, i see you’re a fellow intellectual.” the player nods sagely. “data analysis has found plenty of evidence supporting the existence of an ‘end dragon’, through communicator codes such as ID tags for items called ‘dragon’s breath,’ ‘dragon head’, and ‘dragon egg’, not to mention the achievement ‘free the end’, which is supposedly earned after slaying this dragon. so while we can only extrapolate so much from nonfunctional comm commands, i’d say the idea of a dragon existing in other worlds is quite substantiated.”

they pause.

“did hels ever have one? well, that’s the question, isn’t it. while the existence of glitched end chunks throughout hels has been proven on multiple occasions, no one’s ever found an end island with the obsidian pillars required to spawn and sustain a dragon. of course, it’s possible someone found it long ago and destroyed it, or perhaps no one’s found it yet, or perhaps it exists in a different form entirely. if you look at how biomes spawn in hels…”

~*~

“what, hels ain’t bad enough for you as it is?” the player wheezes, shaking their head. “kid, if there’s a dragon in hels, you’re better off if you never meet it. we got enough problems without throwin’ a damned dragon into the mix, ya hear?”

~*~

“never heard of such a thing. seems like nonsense.” the player hefts their axe onto their shoulder. “now, move along before i kill you.”

~*~

“there was a dragon in hels, yeah,” the player says nonchalantly. “this old player took me in when i was a kid, used to tell me stories. i mean, he never saw it. it was more of a ‘i know this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who heard that someone saw it’ kinda deal… well? do you wanna hear it or not?”

they smirk.

“… that’s what i thought. so yeah, it was this massive red dragon- or uh, maybe it was like orange with red flames on its scales, fucking sick, right- with huge teeth and insane fire breath and… actually, it might’ve been acid? or poison? fuck, whatever, the point is that the thing was nasty, alright, it used to swoop down on the early settlements and mow those motherfuckers down, eating players- or, wait, i think maybe it would just throw them? uh, i dunno how but- wait, where you goin’? hey, this is valuable information, you know! … fine, whatever, asshole.”

~*~

“how the hel should i know?” the player demands, folding their arms. “this world’s infinite and old as balls, and we don’t exactly have a consistent method of widespread information distribution. someone could’ve killed it yesterday and i’d have no fucking clue.”

~*~

“yeah, there was.” the player nods. “it was before my time, but i heard our admin killed it. whoever the fuck they were… makes no difference to me, but it’s a cool thought, right?”

~*~

“hm. been a long time since someone asked me that.” the player leans forward, eyes flickering in the firelight. their gaze is haunted. “are you sure you wanna know?”

they pause.

“… alright, then.”

“now, this was back in the early days of hels, long enough ago that some of the oldest players still remembered havin’ an admin. we didn’t even know ‘bout the end chunks. then one day, there was this sound. every player in the world heard it, no matter where they were. it was louder than any thunderstorm, louder than any explosion- the kinda sound that goes clean through you, splits your ears and rattles your bones.”

“it was a scream, only not like any i’d ever heard before. there was a raw, guttural quality to it- like a wounded animal- yet the power was undeniable. but there was some distortion to it as well; an underpinning of static like the whole thing was bein’ broadcast through a beat-up jukebox. just thinkin’ of it sends chills down my spine.”

“then a peculiar thing popped up in chat. someone had made an achievement, only we couldn’t tell who or what. all the text was scrambled, like those funny words you see on an enchantment table. never met anyone who could read it. but needless to say, this sparked an entire movement bent on discoverin’ what the hell had happened.”

“some of the more adventurous players went explorin’ and found the end chunks. players who knew a thing or two about data analysis started huntin’ through their comms, usin’ the data of an endstone block someone brought back. didn’t take long after that to figure it out.”

“they found there was a dragon that belonged to a separate realm from overworld and nether. the end, they surmised. y’know, where endermen came from. the dragon lived there, sustained by end crystals that were said to float atop obsidian pillars on the end island it called home- its nest, as it were. so, unsurprisingly, it was called the ender dragon.”

“and if you killed it, you opened a portal. where it’d lead was anyone’s guess, but it was a way out of hels.”

“i was young, then. young and hungry. i banded up with some other players and we consulted an expert- the founder of data analysis, actually- to extrapolate the coordinates for the main end island. only he didn’t find just one; he found ten sets of coords, spread out over hundreds of thousands of blocks, nearly a million blocks. he predicted that each obsidian pillar had spawned on a separate end chunk, and that each one would have to be tracked down to kill the dragon. we had to destroy the crystals first, you see. he thought it was a waste of time, a fool’s errand, but we didn’t listen. so we split up, takin’ one set of coords each, and set off.”

“they were all ‘bout the same distance from each other, so no one had an easier go of it. i took one northeast of spawn, seven hundred and twenty-nine thousand blocks out. the journey took years. not sure exactly how many, i stopped keepin’ count sometime after the fifth. the other players on the mission gradually stopped replyin’ to my whispers- i think some of ‘em gave up and turned back. wasn’t sure if i was the only one still goin’, ‘til i eventually saw their death messages in chat, one by one. mobs, lava, fall damage, the usual. some might’ve died on the way; traversin’ hels alone on foot is no cake walk, even without the concern of PVP. never heard from any of ‘em again.”

“but i’d gone so far that givin’ up wasn’t an option. even if no one else had made it to their pillar and destroyed the crystal, even if killin’ the dragon would be impossible, i had to see it through. so i kept goin’. it was a lonesome existence, bein’ that far from spawn; i went months without sayin’ a single word, at times, damn near lost my mind. but it weren’t all bad. i reached the unloaded chunks, saw naturally-spawned passive mobs for the first time in my life. i saw rare biomes i’d never heard of, even came across one of those glitched end ships with an elytra. journey went quicker, after that, but it was still several years before i finally reached the coords.”

“the pillar was exactly what you’d expect. a tall, round obelisk made of solid obsidian, rooted on a floatin’ chunk of an endstone island. there were some endermen millin’ about the place, far more than in any other biome i’d seen- ‘cept maybe the warped jungles- but no sign of the dragon. the crystal was at the very top of the pillar in an iron cage, so i flew on up there, thinking at least i’d do what i came to do.”

“soon as i set foot on the top of the pillar, i heard a strange sound. it was that little zippin’ sound you hear when an enderman teleports- only it was a louder, deeper, slower sound that seemed to shake the world. like i could actually hear the distortion of space and time itself. the air suddenly filled with a haze of purple particles, so thick i could hardly see, move, or breathe.”

“and then she appeared.”

“the dragon was all black, black as the void ‘neath bedrock, with spines down her back and huge, bat-like wings, deadly sharp teeth and claws. she was big enough to swallow me whole and we both knew it. but what really put me off was that she was glitched.”

“it’s the best way i can describe it. her body was flickerin’ around all crazy-like as if i’d gone cross-eyed, so she appeared in multiples at times, countless wings unfurlin’ from the distorted mass. anywhere i looked directly at her would suddenly seem… pixelated, almost, like her form was fracturin’ into pieces, like i couldn’t fully ‘preciate the whole. but i remember her eyes. they were pure white, so bright it hurt to look at ‘em, and as she moved they seemed to blink in and out of existence around her, like they couldn’t quite settle in her skull. like twinklin’ stars against the night sky, beyond the bedrock ceiling.”

“she was beautiful.”

“the dragon perched against the tower, claws grippin’ the obsidian on either side of me, curled her slender neck down ‘til we were face-to-face, and roared. it had that same quality as that sound i’d heard all those years ago, and i knew at once it’d been her death rattle. in my daze, i remember wonderin’ who could’ve possibly managed to kill such a creature? what kinda player would even want to?”

“i’d been well-prepared for the fight. full enchanted gear, potions, gapples. but starin’ up at her, i couldn’t bring myself to use any of it. i just stared at her, caught in a moment that felt like an eternity as she stared back, before i realized her breath was poison.”

“i ended up back at the world spawn. didn’t matter i’d set a respawn anchor nearby the end island- this seemed to overwrite it. lost everythin’, of course, but i didn’t care. my death message in the chat was glitched, too, in that same strange language. now, i didn’t share my experience with the rest of the world; only to those who asked, and only in the hopes of dissuadin’ them from makin’ an attempt of their own.”

“which brings us to the end.” the player finally sits back, studying you with a shrewd gaze. “now, you listen to me. that dragon ain’t somethin’ to be killed, understand?”

you nod.

“good.” the player’s expression changes. “so, i’m afraid you’re not gonna like the next part of the story. but nothin’s free in this world, least of all knowledge.”

the player moves, there’s a flash of metal, and suddenly there’s a sword in your gut. engrossed in the story, you hadn’t even noticed them equip it.

“sorry,” the player tells you with a grin, “but that dragon ain’t the only monster here. send my regards to spawn.”

as darkness consumes you, your last thought is that the white spots dancing across your vision suddenly look like dragon eyes, blinking from the void.

~*~

#hermitcraft #hels to pay au #HTP fic #my writing #using they/them bc none of these players are supposed to be existing characters #they are ALL random unnamed npcs and not intended to be any known helsmit #(except for a little mention of one in there- that’s exactly who u think it is)#anyway THANK U FOR THE ASK i wasn’t planning on writing a drabble for it but when the inspo strikes…

48 notes · View notes