#and some of them dim around other moons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually.

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body.

You pretended to be dead.

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky.

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly.

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands.

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it.

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.”

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up.

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening.

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest.

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort.

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.”

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character.

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it.

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up.

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood.

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?”

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull.

Missions were rarely a failure.

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.”

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?”

“None. Just us.”

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.”

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway.

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it.

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it.

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation.

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room.

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly.

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off.

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin.

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction.

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.”

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue.

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in.

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight.

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends.

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore.

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him. “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh.

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why.

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden.

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions.

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them.

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too.

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue.

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch.

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined.

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you.

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like.

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse.

This couldn’t continue.

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side.

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.”

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air.

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met.

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires.

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?”

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?”

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up.

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.”

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth.

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas.

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless.

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds.

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up.

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though.

On the second week, it got easier.

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area.

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over.

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table.

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally.

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails.

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind.

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you.

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces.

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair.

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse.

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up...

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring.

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!”

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp.

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor.

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers.

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated.

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug.

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly.

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air.

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure.

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.”

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly.

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward.

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game.

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching.

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet.

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table.

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?”

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.”

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you.

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss.

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.”

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it.

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking.

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second.

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos.

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint.

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat.

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages.

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out.

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.”

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?”

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room.

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out.

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently.

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.”

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation.

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.”

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back.

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat.

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney.

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly.

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful.

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand.

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing.

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.”

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair.

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back.

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts.

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high.

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river.

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask.

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare.

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it.

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh.

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge.

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already.

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk.

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…”

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be.

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.”

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip.

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able.

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second.

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table.

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion.

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?”

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer.

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix.

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob.

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.”

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality.

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer.

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.”

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own.

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies.

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep.

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.”

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though.

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect.

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt.

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you.

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back.

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw.

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms.

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile.

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.”

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting.

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial.

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action.

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot.

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad.

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you.

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute.

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

@emerald-valkyrie , @anna-banana27 , @blueoorchid , @cryingnotcrying , @writeforfandoms , @homicidal-slvt , @jade-jax , @frazie99 , @elmoees , @littlemisstrouble , @alpineswinter , @phoenixhalliwell , @idocarealot , @lavalleon , @facelessmemories , @h-leigh, @20forty9 , @glitter-anon-asks , @emily-who-killed-a-man , @neelehksttr, @aeneanc , @escapefromrealitysm , @i-d-1-0-t , @pparcxysm , @hawkscanendme , @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney , @sanfransolomitatm , @maelstrom007 , @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet , @pheobees , @glitterypirateduck , @uselsshuman , @fan-of-encouragement , @halfmoth-halfman , @ghostlythunderbird , @I-inkage, @pukbadger , @kopatych11 , @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop , @knightofsexyness , @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons , @330bpm-whiplash , @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu , @tiredmetalenthusiast

3K notes · View notes

yaespook · 8 months

Text

Warmth Ensnared.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! Reader x Yan! Selkie! Sub! Bottom! Neuvillette, no gendered terms used for reader, reader has a cock, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Neuvillette, inexperienced virgin Neuvillette, blowjob (Neuvillette giving), mentions of marking and biting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The torso and right paw of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

The heavens weep their cold tears as you make your way down the coastline, an umbrella in hand. The raindrop pelts harshly against the cheap plastic of your umbrella as the moonlight weakly lights the path ahead of you from behind the clouds.

You’re not quite sure what compelled you to venture out in such heavy rain or what keeps you from turning around and walking home but when you see the unfortunate sight a couple steps before you, perhaps it was a good idea you came out after all.

Frustrated growls and gruff barks reach your ears as a large seal thrashes around on the shore, struggling to free itself from the net that ensnares its flippers and tail. Its efforts are in vain as it seemingly tangles itself more and more in the net with every movement, its vocalisations growing increasingly distressed.

You rush over, determined to free the poor seal. Sensing a potential threat, the seal looks straight at you approaching amidst its struggle and tries to shuffle away, frightened.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m trying to help you out.” Your words seem to soothe as it cautiously observes you when you slowly move in closer, making no attempts to try to attack you. While you try to work its flippers out of the net, you realise that the earlier thrashing had complicated the entanglement, resulting in multiple knots and loops that are too hard to undo with one hand.

Sighing, you set your umbrella aside to free up your other hand, angling it and propping it up in the wet sand so as to block as much of the rain as possible. Despite your umbrella, the chilling rain gradually starts to seep through your clothes as you aid the seal. It eyes you curiously, surprisingly calm, even going so far as to lifting the flipper you’re working the net off of.

Now that you’re a lot closer, you also take the time to examine the seal for any other injuries. Its fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on its belly that almost glow in the dim moonlight.

After a couple minutes, the seal is freed from the net entirely and you bundle the fabric in your arm to dispose of properly later, your other hand holding your umbrella again. Standing, you watch on as it hurries to the shoreline and ventures beyond the waves, going back to its watery habitat. Swimming further out, the seal suddenly stops and turns back to stare at you for a second. Then, it nods towards you, as if thanking you for your help before quickly diving underwater.

Assured that the seal is safe now, you turn and begin to head back home. Although you’re soaked to the bone, a pleasant emotion arises in you from your good deed and the supposed show of gratitude you received in the end. And maybe the heavens are smiling upon you! The downpour immediately starts to clear up, the rain clouds dissipating from the sky, revealing the moon hiding behind them and lighting your way home.

(Unbeknownst to you, a sharp pair of pale lavender eyes emerge from the depths, eyeing you as you leave.)

The next time you find yourself strolling along the beach, the evening sky is mostly clear, save for a few heavy rain clouds that look to be gathering at the edge of the horizon, slowly rolling in. You recall the seal from before and there’s an unexplainable tugging to go back to that location, even though you’re not exactly sure what you hope to find.

After that night, you’ve looked for information regarding seals congregating along that coast but unable to find any records or news about seals in your local natural ecosystem, you dismissed it as some sort of cosmic coincidence that your walk would end with you freeing a seal.

The seal would be nice to see once more though what you actually do see instead is a little stranger than anything you were expecting.

There’s an odd person loitering near the water where you freed the seal. Bizarrely enough, he’s donning a sopping wet yet extravagant fur coat. Water drips from his long hair however, he doesn’t seem to mind it at all. He’s incredibly out of place but his face doesn’t show it, even as you try your best not to stare. Rather, he opens his mouth to ask, (you get a flash of fangs), his voice a soothing timbre.

“Apologies. I'm new around here and I seem to have gotten lost. May I trouble you for directions?”

A couple questions zip around in your head: How did he end up at the beach? Did he go swimming in his fur coat? Is he not cold? Realising that you’ve been staring at his fur coat all this time and not speaking, you awkwardly clear your throat and ultimately settle with saying, “I think we'd better dry you off first before you catch a cold.”

Thankfully, there’re still cafes open along the more crowded area of the beach. After getting him a hot drink of his choice to warm himself up (an order for a cup of hot water definitely raised some eyebrows), you ask him to stay put before going to fetch a couple towels from a nearby beach kiosk for him to dry off.

“Thank you for all the help you have extended to me despite this being your first time meeting me,” he says, his tone sincere as he dries his hair, having finished his cup of water.

“It’s no problem really, I’m pretty sure most would’ve helped you out too. How did you end up so soaked in the first place?”

“Ah, it’s a bit much to talk about-” he cuts himself off, “-Where are my manners, I have not introduced myself yet. I am Neuvillette.” A quick handshake, introductions and small talk exchanged, a friend gained.

The two of you talk until you’re ushered out by the cafe staff and agree to meet again next week at this cafe to spend more time together.

You find yourself looking forward to the days with Neuvillette, no matter the activity. (Strangely, on the days you’re unable to meet up with Neuvillette, the weather forecast never matches up, the skies always overcast with dark clouds.)

An additional fun treat is that every time the both of you meet, he never fails to regale you with fantastical tales, with myths and legends from the unfathomable depths of merfolk and sea monsters, each tale more and more outlandish and wondrous than the last. The details that he injects to his stories are so intricate that you’d almost believe he was recounting them from personal experience itself.

The agenda for today’s hangout: Bring him around the local aquarium! A leisurely stroll whilst admiring the sealife, listening to his informative explanations on how the marine ecosystem functions, how everything has a crucial part to play in it. But your day gets a lot better when your Neuvie mysteriously draws the attention of the seals when the both of you walk past them. The lovable blobs bounce up to him, as near as possible, gleefully barking away, trying to get his attention.

You laugh as you watch on at the display, “Looks like I’ve managed to catch myself a seal prince!”

His face heats up at your remark, a light hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the commotion from the seals. He musters up a weak chuckle as he meets your eyes.

“And perhaps you have.”

The seals glance between the two of you and somehow manage to bark even louder, some even clapping their flippers against their bodies. Once you’ve decided that it was enough embarrassment for your poor Neuvie, taking his hand in yours, you lead him off to the next section of the aquarium. Your hand brushes against the sleeves of his fur coat that he constantly wears. (His fingers entwine with yours, his grip secure.)

By the time you finish touring the entire aquarium, it’s the late evening, the street lights already lit as the dinner crowd mills about for a place to dine in.

Over the course of dinner, he sneaks little glances at you between bites of his food, smiling slightly when you catch him red-handed but never saying what’s on his mind. It’s only when the two of you are walking out of the restaurant, he works up the nerve to ask.

“We have been seeing each other for some time now, and I hope that I am not overstepping to suggest,” his cheeks flush, “that perhaps we could take this to another level…”

His breath catches when he feels your hand finding his as you say, “My place then?”

The instant you lead him into your home and room, you press your lips against his and revel in the small clipped moan you manage to drag out of him. Neuviellette doesn’t seem to be experienced, given the sloppy way he kisses you back and how you can feel him beginning to grind against your thigh between his legs. When you pull away, he’s panting, pupils dilated as he chases after you.

“Your first time, Neuvie?”

“Ah. Yes… my deepest apologies if I do not manage to satisf-” You stop him before he can finish his sentence, shushing him with a quick kiss.

“Shush, Neuvie, it’s nothing to apologise for. If anything, I’m honoured to be your first,” you tuck a hair behind his ear, leaning in to whisper, your tone teasing, “In fact, I think teaching you allll about it might just be even better ♡”

Soon, you have him knelt between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed, guiding your cock to his lips.

“Watch your fangs now, Neuvie.”

He flicks his tongue out, swirling it around the head, licking at it before his lips close around your tip. True to your words, he’s careful about his fangs as slowly, he takes you into his mouth. A low groan filters through the air when you feel his tongue press up against the underside of your length.

“Ngh, that’s great, Neuvie…” Your hand caresses the side of his face, his skin warm where you touched, “So good at this already.”

The sight of him peering up at you from his spot, how he’s engulfed your every inch (does he not have a gag reflex?), his eyes slowly glazing over, it sends lust coursing through your veins. He’s so perfect for you.

“Do you think you could move?” Neuvillette hums in agreement, the vibrations stimulating as he starts bobbing his head, obedient as he even tries to occasionally swallow around you when you hit the back of his throat. The wet sounds of slurping only serve to arouse you even further, joined by the moans Neuvillette lets out, as if savouring the taste of you.

“Ah! L-Let me pull out Neuvie-?!” At your words, his hands suddenly clamp tightly onto your thighs before he takes you as far as he can, sucking hard as he feels your cock twitch on his tongue.

It’s not long before you cum, spurting your load down his throat that he devours eagerly, moaning at the taste. When he frees you from his mouth with a lewd “pop!”, his tongue lolls out, showing that he really did swallow everything you gave him.

Cupping his face in your hands, you bring him up to lock lips with him, making out fiercely, more tongue than anything.

“So greedy, Neuvie, why didn’t you let me pull out?” He just gives you a light ditzy chuckle before ducking back in for another kiss, unable to be separated from you. You drink in all his muffled noises, your hands roving over his body as he indulges himself in your warmth, your everything.

And you’re so caring too, taking the time to constantly check in on him as you thoroughly prep him so his first time wouldn’t hurt. Your fingers coated in lube, you gingerly work him open as he lets out unrestrained whines. A keen rips from him when the tip of your finger bumps against his prostate, the unfamiliar pleasure a very welcome one.

You treat him so well, how could he not be drunk on your love?

“Tell me everything you feel Neuvie,” your tip breaches his rim and it has him seeing stars behind his closed eyes.

“Hah! So good-!” He’s embraced in your arms, his heaving chest against yours as his heart races at the ecstasy you’re granting him. Inch by inch, you sink into his hole. Your skin is sticky against his and he presses himself onto your body, wanting to feel all of you. His breath comes out in pants as you reach deeper into him, your cock filling him up even more.

“Look at you, Neuvie, such a treasure.” Your praise pushes him closer to his tipping point. And when you graze past his prostate, his vision whites out instantly.

“Hgnk! Cumming- AH!” Clinging onto you even tighter, his cum splatters onto his skin and yours, unconsciously grinding your cock deeper into him as he rides out his high. He collapses against you, burying into the crook of your neck when he feels you press a kiss to the top of his head and smile.

Neuvillette has always been so used to the indifferent coldness of the open ocean, the unyielding pressure beneath the waves. But you’ve changed him, he’s addicted to the warmth you’ve shown to him ever since your first fated meeting. (Never mind that you still don’t know that the seal you rescued was him, you will understand in due time.)

Now that he’s with you, swapping fur for skin, trading water for land, the happiness he feels when he’s yours is incomparable. He’s become enamoured with all of you. He’d give up anything else to stay by your side like this forever. Anything to be with you.

The next morning, Neuvillette is rather lively but you chalk it up to the intimate session last night. It was his first time after all, and you’re just glad that he seemed to enjoy it. But he’s a lot clingier with the way he has to be near you at all times, be it wordlessly tailing you around your home or sitting next to you whenever.

As the both of you cuddle, still too lazy to get started with the day since you’re entangled in each other, he suddenly peels himself off of you. Neuvillette sheds his fur coat, folding it neatly, then presenting it to you.

“I want you to have this,” there’s a jovial lilt in his voice, almost akin to a seal’s chirp, “Do you accept it?”

“Are you sure? You wear this everywhere and it’s probably important to you, I couldn’t take it.” Neuvillette shakes his head, firm in his stance.

“I insist you have it. It is important, but,” he looks into your eyes, in them, a raw frenzied sincerity swirls like whirlpools, “That’s why I want you to have it.”

“When you put it that way,” you take the coat from him, experimentally draping it over yourself, sighing when you realise truly how soft it is.

“Thank you Neuvie.” The tender moment is broken when he leans in, ensnaring you in a ravenous kiss. Darting your tongue into his mouth, he’s no longer shy like yesterday, letting out needy whimpers as he deepens the kiss.

“You didn’t, hah, finish in me last night, my love,” he huffs during stolen breaths in between kisses, “You need to. Pleasepleaseplease!”

He’s dragging you back into your room and soon enough, you have him under you, the fur coat draped on your back as you rut into him. His walls clench down on your shaft, his legs locking around your hips to make sure you don’t pull out of him when you climax.

A dizzying mixture of mania and desire floods through his system when you suck a hickey onto his pristine skin. He feels your scorching breath fan across his collarbone and when your lips make contact with his skin, he jolts, aware of every pleasurable sensation you’re flooding him with right now.

And it’s only fair if he gets you to mark you too. Claiming you as his other half, his destined partner. Sharp teeth pierce and break past your skin as Neuvillette bites down on your shoulder.

He recalls his moments with you: How you miraculously showed up in his time of need. Helping him time and time again. The other seals rowdily congratulating their prince on finding a mate. And finally, how you accepted his pelt.

How you accepted him.

He laps at the bitemark when he detaches, a sense of fulfilment bubbling up in him. A particularly deep grind drags him out of his thoughts, an unabashed moan escaping him.

“Thinking about something else, while- ah! -I’m here fucking you?”

“N-No! Only thinking- ghk?! -of, of you! Only y-you!” Neuvillette blubbers out, sensing every movement of your dick in him.

“I’m close! Going to- hnn! -cum!” Hearing your words, his words tumble out of his mouth unintelligibly.

“In me! Hah- ah! Cum in me! Please, love! In me- need it, need you-!!”

Pressing your hips into his, you finish in him as per his request, his legs looping around you even tighter, forcing you to reach further in him.

The stretch drives Neuvillette wild and when he feels the warm bliss spreading in him, his eyes roll into his skull and he throws his head back, letting out an animalistic growl as he cums.

"I love you I love you I love you I love you!"

Later, when you’ve wiped the both of you down, the cuddling resumes. Cracking an eye open, you see Neuvillette snuggling into the fur coat.

“See, you’re still attached. I couldn’t take it.”

“No, no, my love. You’ve already taken it.” He flips over to face you, “Do you know the ‘legend’ of selkies, my love?”

At the shake of your head, he begins to speak. You listen as he recounts the tale, how important their sealskin is to them, the symbolism of owning a selkie’s precious pelt.

His voice is otherworldly, mesmerising, as if it were the gentle lull of a fishing boat on the water.

“The tales usually spell the misery of a selkie who has had their pelt taken forcibly against their will. I’ve seen it happen to my subjects in the past. But I am fortunate.”

…His subjects?

When your eyes open again, (you didn't even know they closed in the first place), a selkie lays before you. His fur is a shade of silvery grey, with some symmetrical markings or patterns on his belly that almost glow. His webbed hand tipped with claws captures yours. His eyes are brine pools and his fangs are trident-sharp when he speaks.

And he says.

”So take me, and I'll give all of myself up for you.”

[> You add a fur pelt to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

#📜.Shapeshifting Hallways #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #sub neuvillette #selkie smut #sub selkie #yandere selkie #dom reader #top reader #kinktober

1K notes · View notes

p0ssywhippedcream · 1 year

Note

zuko cuddles 🫶🏻

It had been a long day for everyone. Azula finding you all at the air temple and forcing you to evacuate. Once you had set up camp, you wandered off to go find something to eat while the others did some variant of a chore.

You cooked, laughed together and everything was good for a while. Then you realized as you were setting up your tent that there wasn't enough room for everybody. Katara decided to share with Toph and Suki decided she didn't want to be stuck with Aang and her boyfriend all night so she joined them too. That left you and Zuko with the last tent because everybody else was weary of him and Sokka had already closed off his tent.

Aang pulled you aside and asked, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah," You said, "There's no reason to not use our third tent and I don't want you or the girls to feel crowded."

Then, everybody had settled in, saying their goodnights and sweet dreams and it was just you and Zuko, alone.

Nervously, you smiled at him and asked if he'd like to help you set up the tent. He of course said yes and rushed forward trying to help. It only took a few minutes to realize that the former prince had no idea how to make a tent and you let him sit down as you built it.

"Sorry.." He murmured and you threw a soft smile at him over you shoulder.

"it's okay. I work best by myself anyway." You lifted up the tent door and motioned for him to go in.

You made your bed and then helped him make his gingerly and then curled up, trying to fall asleep. Like always, your luck was against your will. The fire had already been put out and a cold breeze was setting in. Your body heat quickly succumbed to the cold and small shivers racked you.

Looking behind you, you noticed two things. One was that Zuko was already looking at you with those intense gold eyes and two was that he was shivering as well. Well, you'd already been caught so you just rolled over to your side completely and gave him a shaky smile.

"Hey." You offered.

"Hey." He replied.

"You cold?" You asked.

"A little. You?" He supplied.

"Yeah." You said and then there was silence. You tried to think of something to say but most of it was nonsense. Luckily, he spoke.

"We could maybe light the fire again?"

You shook your head, "Aang gets nervous with it lit when we're asleep, Katara too."

"Oh..." He got that cute, thinking face on and pondered the options for a second. With a shaky voice, he said, "Well, I could try to warm you up a little.. you know, with my fire bending?"

Your teeth chattered as you giggled, "Yeah, I assumed... Sure, if you're okay with it?"

He nodded and you scooted your sleeping bag closer until you were a breath away. He gave you an awkward smile and let his hands become warm. Tentatively, he slipped them under your sleeping bag and rubbed them up your bare arms. Immediately, warmth filled your body and you subconsciously scooted closer with a sigh.

it was hard to tell in the dark but you thought you saw a blush on his cheeks. Slowly he moved his hands to your shoulder blades and then on your neck and sides. It was hard to tell when it happened but at some point between him warming up your biceps and your back, you gotten so close, your breath could be felt on his neck.

It made him nervous. Not only because of the times in the past he'd tried to kill you and how forgiving you were being but because with you this close, he could see all your beauty magnified. Your eyelashes trembled on closed eyes, lips stuttered and nose twitched. You were ethereal in the dim blue light of the moon shinning through holes in the tent. It was almost too much for him.

Then he noticed your breath had evened out. it was slower and smoother. You had fallen asleep practically in his arms. Just as he was about to retreat his hands, yours wrapped around his neck and settled on the nape. You were so close, so soft and gentle even In your sleep. Your fingers brushed the short hair as you let out small snores and held him so his chest was to yours.

The thing that really took his breath away was when your legs wove in-between his and your toes kissed his calves. Zuko might have died and gone to heaven. The prettiest person he'd ever met was curled up in his arms and sighing hot wisps of air over him.

Then you mumbled his name gently and squirmed a little, your nose tucked up in his collar bones and he felt himself swoon. How ever would he be able to face you tomorrow?

4K notes · View notes

siriuslovebot · 10 months

Text

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: more remus x mouse please!!! i adore them!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: mentions of insecurity, post full moon remus is a little snappy, the nickname 'mouse', insomnia, crying (this is all quite lighthearted i promise)

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: after remus snaps at the reader one day, some insecurities in their relationship come up.

𝑨/𝑵: hi loves! after the massive outpouring of love i had on mouse, i received this request and knew i absolutely had to write more of remus & mouse. this is written in the same universe, so to speak, but can be read as a standalone if you like. this one isn't nearly as long as the last, but it's just a little something that i wanted to write. if you'd like to see more of this pairing, just let me know and i would be happy to oblige!! as far as the warnings go, there's no real angst or anything just some insecurity on the reader's part. if that bothers you then please skip this one! as always, i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 1.9k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

a slot of light slips through the curtains across the room, the faint moonlight shining directly over your eyes. a tiny huff leaves your lips as you flip the other way; sleep has escaped you for the past hour. you’d awoken, heart pounding, from a nightmare, and have been awake ever since. it’s a wonder you haven’t woken marlene or lily with your quiet grumbling and frustrated sighs.

you curl into your bed, entangling your body in the duvet as you stare at the wall of your dorm. your eyes trace the cracks in the stone, the dim light illuminating their details just enough to distract you. you attempt to count them, hoping maybe it will help lull you to sleep. after what feels like hours, you give up. another annoyed grunt leaves your lips as you flop onto your back to stare at the canopy above your bed.

the problem is: you’ve been suffering from this insomnia for the past week now. ever since the last full moon, you’ve been worried sick. of course you’re used to dealing with remus’s touchy moods around the full moon; you’ve seen how short he can get with other people, how he becomes quieter and more reserved, how he sleeps more than usual. still, he’d never been that way with you, even when he was clearly at the end of his rope mentally and emotionally.

earlier in the week, you’d been excited to share the lesson he missed that morning in care of magical creatures. professor kettleburn covered mokes, displaying their remarkable ability to shrink themselves to near invisibility. it wasn’t unusual for remus to ask you what he missed in class– so you thought it’d be fine to volunteer the information. unfortunately, it seemed he was still on edge after his latest transformation.

you’d taken a seat on the end of his bed, placing a hand on his leg. you greeted him softly, knowing how exhausted he usually felt. he laid there, arm covering his eyes, and said nothing. you took this as an opportunity to begin speaking. there was no response from him for a moment, before he moved his arm, blinking his bleary eyes as he barely sat up.

a sickly-looking expression occupied his features. his sleeve rose a bit and you noticed another fresh wound.

“can you please just… leave me alone?” he said, voice cold, before collapsing back onto the bed. he shook your hand away from his leg and curled into himself.

“are you okay, rem?”

“go. away.” his words were punctuated sharply, turning almost venomous. you flinched, your entire morale crumbling to dust beneath the weight of his words.

your stomach churned, and you cleared your throat. “o–okay,” you mumbled. you were out of his dorm in a flash, your feet carrying you as fast as possible downstairs.

“hey, y/n–” sirius tried to catch your sleeve, but you pushed past him, out of the portrait hole without a word. the tears were brimming already, your throat tightening as you made every effort to get as far away from everyone as possible. you hated how much it could upset you; remus was not mean, and you knew that. he would never hurt your feelings on purpose, and you knew better than to bother him when he wasn’t feeling well. still, it stung.

even worse, you weren’t brave enough to bring it up when he finally returned to classes as normal. as he sat down beside you at breakfast, you wondered if he even remembered it at all. he greeted you amicably and bumped his knee against yours as he settled into his seat. but he didn’t wrap his hand around yours like normal. he wasn’t leaning in to whisper his witty remarks while the others were distracted. remus is not an obviously affectionate man in the first place, but you have grown used to him showing his fondness for you in quiet ways. brushing your hair behind your ear, carrying your books to class, holding doors open for you.

now, moping in your bed, you feel even worse about everything. since that morning, you worried that you annoyed him to the point that he didn’t want you anymore. maybe he just preferred you as a friend. that idea hurt even more. blinking, you try to push the thought out of your head. alas, you are nothing if not an overthinker, and the pestering thought will not go away. your one remedy is exactly the person you don’t want to face.

you realise you are in a predicament; being so obstinate, you don’t want to scurry off to remus’s dorm and pour your heart out after feeling so slighted. on the other hand, you’re afraid that your newfound relationship could fizzle out right beneath your nose. you’ve always heard that communication is key, but revealing your anxieties to remus feels too vulnerable. almost foolish.

ultimately, you decide to choke down your pride. the floor is cold beneath your feet as you slip out of bed. you force your limbs to move across the room, tip-toeing to the door. you wince as a stirring noise comes from across the room, then the sound of marlene’s hoarse voice.

“y/n? y’okay?” her words are slurred with sleep, muffled by her pillow.

“fine, marls. go back to sleep.”

she does just that, her breathing falling back into its steady rhythm. you slip through the small gap in the door, padding downstairs as quietly as possible.

by the time your feet hit the stairs up to the boys dormitories, you’re starting to question your decision. it’s stupid, you think. there’s no way remus would snub you on purpose; surely he would just up and say it if he was no longer interested… right?

it takes every ounce of willpower in your body to force yourself up the stairs. you take them one at a time, breathing deeply to ease the growing anticipation. it’s a wonder no one can hear your pulse quickening, your shaky breaths. standing at the door, you stare at it for a second. you can turn around this second and pretend you were never there. but wouldn’t it only make things worse?

a second passes, and you raise your hand to knock. you stop yourself. it would be rude to knock at this hour; you’d wake all four of the boys slumbering peacefully inside. instead, you hope not to wake anyone as you gently push the door open, peering inside. four forms occupy their beds, their silhouettes rising and falling gently with each breath. the light from outside the window barely illuminates the room enough for you to creep around the mess on the floor. you grit your teeth as one of them mumbles in their sleep; your eyes find james’s form, rolling over lazily in bed. he’s still sleeping, thankfully.

you step over a pile of books on the way to remus’s bed, and try not to startle him. it seems you already have, as his sleepy voice comes muffled from his bed.

“y/n? is something wrong?”

the sound of him calling you y/n sends a pang through you. as much as you complained about being called ‘mouse,’ it made you feel special whenever remus used your childish nickname.

“can’t sleep,” you mumble stupidly, your knee bumping into the edge of his bed. “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“of course y’did,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “y’weren’t coming in here just to stare at me…” he turns over, his bleary eyes finding yours in the darkness. he lifts the duvet, scooting over to make a spot for you. you climb onto the bed, but hesitate before laying beside him.

“what’s wrong?” he reaches for you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist. his thumb traces the inside of your wrist, gentle against the skin. he doesn’t tug you down, which you would appreciate if it weren’t for the full view he was getting of your upset face.

“are you mad at me?” this whisper is quieter than the last one, if possible. your eyes shine with tears, and remus’s face falls into a heavy frown.

“what are you talking about, m’little mouse?”

your heart seems as if it’s going to explode for a second; you force your gaze away from his face. you can’t stand to watch the way his brows pull together, the way his lips drag down into a frown, the concern softening his warm eyes. a lump the size of the castle has grown in your throat, and you want to hide your face more than anything.

“i just–well, after the last full moon, it just… seemed like you didn’t want to see me anymore. i know it’s a lot to deal with, and i shouldn’t have bothered you–”

“hey,” remus cuts you off, his voice soft. little choking breaths and sobs are interrupting your words, and tears cloud your vision to the point that you can barely see him in the darkness. “you never bother me. c’mere…” he sits up, pulling you into his embrace. he’s warm, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of comfort. it’s astounding just how much he’s soothed you already, your crying quickly calming to dull hiccoughs.

“so you’re not mad?” you breathe, your face tucked into his neck.

he laughs quietly. the sound is barely audible, but you feel the rumble of his chest. “no, mouse.” his lips press against your temple, and you melt into him. you close your eyes, feeling more restful than you have in days. “‘m sorry i was short with you.” he holds you close, cradling your head as you finish calming down.

“can i stay here with you?” you ask, after what feels like forever. you look up at him hopefully, face flushing at the adoring look in his eyes.

“‘course y’can,” he says, moving over even though there’s plenty of room for you already. “poor mouse, you look exhausted.” he brushes your hair out of your face, and you nod weakly.

“i haven’t slept properly for days,” you mutter, tucking yourself into his side as you settle beneath the duvet. one of your hands slips under the hem of his shirt, his skin warm against yours.

“i wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

“i know. i just–” you huff “--i was embarrassed. i didn’t want to scare you off.”

there’s his laugh again, sweet and sleepy. your stomach does a flip.

“oh, it’d be hard to scare me off after i saw you turn into a mouse–”

“rem!” you say, voice sharp despite the quiet. his stomach rumbles with light laughter, and you shake your head.

“okay, sorry,” he says, grinning. “let’s not wake the guys up. think sirius’ll have my head for disturbing his beauty sleep.”

you mumble your agreement, closing your eyes. it’s about time you got at least a few hours of good sleep. the room is quiet for a second, just slow breathing.

then, from james’s corner of the room: “what about my beauty sleep, moony?”

there’s an eruption of giggles from your bed, and you bury your face into remus’s neck to stifle the sound.

“sorry, prongs,” remus says, sheepish.

“yeah, yeah, you old sap. go to sleep, or i’m recounting this whole thing to sirius in the morning.”

“oh, please don’t,” you plead quietly.

there’s a grumble from across the room. then, “what are you gits up blabbering about?” it’s sirius, his voice gruff.

“nothing, pads,” says james. “going to sleep.”

you say nothing, cheeks burning as you settle down, curling against remus’s frame. sleep finally finds you, sweeping you off into a dreamless slumber.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #marauders era fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #slb.works #fluff

2K notes · View notes

total-dxmure · 4 months

Text

✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER FOUR

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

The knock on the door is to the tune “Head Over Heels”- or at least you think it is. Ellie doesn’t have enough time to fully get through the chorus before you’re yanking it open, cheeks flushed all pretty and eyes wide. They glitter in the dim sunlight like jewels, staring up at her like she was the one that hung the moon. Ellie’s got that same dumb look on her face; mossy eyes wrinkled at the corners from the force of her smile. You would never know that she’s been up since seven o’clock in the morning, cramming for an exam that she had aced. She’d talked to Joel for the fifteen minutes that it took to get to your house, bragging on and on about how much easier it had been than she’d initially thought that it would be.

He let her brag. Of course he did. She wasn’t quite as talkative as she had been when she was a teenager, but she was still famous for her little tangents. Joel was good at listening, and Ellie? Well, she was a professional yapper. It was a match made in heaven.

Ellie smells like lavender, musk and patchouli incense. The scent of it clings to her hair and clothes. She’d mentioned a couple of times that she was a daily smoker, but she made sure to go out of her way to never smell when she was over at your place. The thought of your daughter cuddling to her when she smelled. . . funky made her cringe.

There’s a moment of appreciative silence as she stands on your front porch. The two of you just stare at each other, breathing the scent of each other in. The novelty still isn’t lost as far as your courting goes either. You can’t imagine the nervous butterflies ever going away. They’ve made a cage out of your ribs, fluttering away madly in your chest.

“Hey,” She breathes through her smile, her eyes dancing over your features. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

You look absolutely exhausted. Gorgeous, but exhausted nonetheless. Ellie has noticed that you do a very good job at putting others' needs before your own. You’d been at work for two whole hours before Ellie had even woken up this morning, and now you felt like you were on autopilot. You’d walked to your mom’s to pick Marley up, gotten her bathed and dressed in little play overalls and now the two of you were spending some quality time together. You could barely keep your eyes open, and yet you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get your screaming toddler to sleep for at least another three hours.

“Marles and I are making homemade play-doh right now,” You opened the door wider, tempting her into the house with a sweet smile. Who was Ellie to deny you of all people? “She’s been excited ever since I told her that you were coming over.”

Marley had taken to Ellie like a bee to honey.

The college student hadn’t had too many opportunities to be around children- especially ones as young as Marley was. She was unfamiliar with the tiny sticky hands, drooly mouths and unpredictable attitudes. Still, she was a natural. Marley gravitated towards her. Ellie was sure that the constant presents and sweet treats buttered her up, but she would be selling herself short if she claimed that those were the only reason that your daughter loved her so much.

Your three year old babbled from the kitchen, excitedly trying to piece together a sentence. Ellie closed the door behind herself, only to sweep you up into a bone crushing hug. Your laugh was muffled by the fabric of her soft cotton button up as you nuzzled your face into her neck. Closer, closer, closer. If she could absorb you into her body she would. It was hard to describe the level of admiration she felt for you. It was too early to classify it as “love”, but she supposed she did love you and Marley. Being in your house, as small as it was, felt right to her.

“I missed you.” You mumbled, arms fastened tight around her waist.

She barely had enough time to brush a gentle peck to your lips before Marley was bounding around the corner, bare feet slapping against the linoleum floors. You’d recently learned that wearing socks wasn’t a good idea. Your poor little girl had slipped and fallen far too many times for your liking.

Marley had become more comfortable in her body, which meant she was now running, jumping and climbing. Just a year ago you had been relieved that she could walk by herself without you holding her hand, and now keeping her off of your furniture was an impossible task. Nothing had prepared you for the constant changes that came with motherhood. You blinked and suddenly she was sassy and genuinely funny. She complimented you when you were wearing something unusually flashy and wanted you to put blush on her while you were getting the both of you ready so that she could “look like mommy”.

You never expected anyone outside of your family and close friends to appreciate your daughter in the same way that you did.

But then there was Ellie.

Self indulgent. Waking up this happy felt sinful.

Your fingers gently glide over her gentle planes and curves, making a map in your mind of every inch of her. Each freckles a continent, each line a river.

You didn’t want to wake Ellie, too frightened that you might break whatever magic spell was currently suspended in the air between the two of you. This moment between you felt too good to be true, and that scarred little voice inside of you that you loathed so much was begging you to enjoy this while it lasted.

You were always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Happiness was fleeting. You felt like you didn’t deserve whatever was going on between the two of you. Your entire identity for the last three years has been summed up in a singular label: “ a mother”. You were a sexless, wantless, selfless creature meant only to teach and please. How dare you need a night off. How dare you choose yourself over an abusive relationship. How dare you need, want, desire, change.

But this? This was nice.

No, it was better than nice. Great? No. . . It was perfect. She was perfect. And that terrified you. Ellie scared the absolute shit out of you, and yet you couldn’t take a step back. It was like you were falling head first for a very, very long time. The ground is nowhere in sight.

You were free falling and you had no clue where you would end up when all was said and done. It felt selfish to put so much effort and care into so many new things at once. Especially since those new things could shatter your heart into a million pieces at any second. You knew that Ellie didn’t owe you anything. She was nice enough to give you a chance despite all of your faults. Your baggage had become too heavy for you to hold at times, so how could you ever expect someone else to help pick up the slack?

You weren’t even sure what the two of you were doing together. The two of you hadn’t put a label on your relationship, but she’d brought you flowers yesterday when she popped by for a movie night. She’d even gotten a small bouquet for Marley, who was far too small to appreciate them for longer than five minutes.

Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d slipped Marley’s shoes on for her before you’d all left the house last night to pick up dinner. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d spent the night with you last night in your bed. Ellie wasn’t your girlfriend, but she’d held you all throughout the night.

She didn’t even try to get handsy at all last night, probably having seen the exhaustion written all over your face. She kissed you because she wanted to show you affection. She held you because she wanted to be close.

What you didn’t know was that Ellie felt the same way that you did. She was lost as to when to ask the dreaded “what are we?” question. The thought of pushing you away or losing you was agonizing, so instead she had deluded herself into thinking that she didn’t have to define things. It was clear that she liked you, right?

She’d never felt this way about anybody before. This wasn’t like any other crushes she’d had in the past. She felt fresh and new. Ellie even felt like she looked a bit different when she looked in a mirror. There was a glow to her; a sense of happiness that wasn’t just rare for her but something that she had once deemed an impossibility. She felt changed for the better.

It was easy to love Marley. It had happened naturally- like breathing. You don’t have to remember how to breathe. . . it just happens. With you it was different. Obsessive, maddening, all inhabiting affection. You’d wrapped your dainty hands around her heart tight, tight, tight. Every skip and butterfly is a gentle reminder that this was something. The both of you are something, and that is enough.

She smiles before she even has her eyes open. She can feel your fingers on her bare arms, and for a second she ponders whether or not she’s in heaven. . . or perhaps still dreaming. Waking up in your bed, the scent of your shampoo on all of the pillows and your soft hands on her- she could die right there, your room, her tomb. The headboard, her headstone.

“Are you real?” She whispers, her voice hoarse and still thick with sleep. She’s looking at you with those great, big green eyes. Your eyes are glued to the small collection of freckles just above her top lip, but you hear her.

“M’ real.” You mumble out a confirmation, propping your head up on your hand so that you can lean over her. You know your hair is a mess. . . but she’s studying your face with a silent sort of appreciation that has your throat feeling thick with emotion.

She’s soft. Ellie’s soft and wants to take care of you. She showers you and your daughter with affection without ever having to be asked to. Why? Because she wants to do it. You find it hard to believe that anyone would want to go out of their way like this. Especially for someone like you. You were a young mother who hadn’t gone to college. You lived in a tiny house, operated paycheck to paycheck, and had a few stretch marks on your tummy. You weren’t perfect. Not like Ellie deserved.

So why was she looking at you like that?

Oh god, how she stared at you. Her eyes were velvet soft as her eyes flickered over your face, taking in every feature. She’d never woken up next to you before. Your bedhead and glassy eyes had her heart blooming with warmth. The ceiling fan had a few strands of your hair falling into your eyes. She took the opportunity to tuck them behind your ear, feeling the softness of your skin. She committed that to memory too.

“I really like this.” Ellie finally admits, bottom jaw quivering a bit. She fiddles with her fingers under your comforter, a nervous habit.

“What?” You ask her incredulously. If Ellie’s eyes weren’t open she’d still know you were smiling. She could hear it in the way you spoke, and it had her seeing stars. And Ellie really, really loved stars. “Looking at my bedhead? You better not take any pictures.” You were already smoothing your hair down with your hands, brushing through a few tangles.

She caught your arms, shaking her head the best she could with it still resting on your pillows. “Waking up next to you. Being here with you two- this is really nice.” It was more than nice, but she didn’t want to scare you away by coming on too strongly.

You opened your mouth, getting ready to agree with her, but the familiar sound of tiny feet had you sitting up fully so that you could turn and face the doorway. You shot Ellie an apologetic smile, but she merely shook her head, sitting up as well with a small smile. She didn’t seem burdened by the existence of your daughter, which was something you weren’t used to.

Marley’s hair was an absolute disaster, per usual. It looked like she’d been caught headfirst in a tornado,wispy hairs bobbing as she shuffled closer to the bed in her footie pajamas. She had insisted on wearing them last night despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly cold enough for them. Her cheeks were pink and it was obvious that she had sweat in her sleep last night. You felt a tinge of guilt for letting her get her way, praying that Ellie didn’t think you were a bad mother for giving in so easily to her sweet demands. Sometimes it was impossible to say no to her.

She stood at the side of the bed for a few seconds, eyes still half lidded and dazed with sleep. For a second she just stared at you and Ellie, as if trying to connect the dots that someone else was in your house. It was incredibly unusual to have guests over at the house. . . well, that was before Ellie. Marley climbed up onto the bed, pushing away your eager hands when you tried to reach out for her.

Your little girl was headed straight for Ellie. You bit the inside of your cheek, feigning a look of jealousy when Marley wrapped her tiny arms around the other woman’s neck. Ellie’s eyes widened as she held the small girl to her chest, cheeks growing warm when she realized just how much your daughter liked her. She wanted to blame the constant presents and sweet treats, but that wasn’t the case. Marley loved Ellie because she was patient with her. She took the time to sit down with her, ask her questions- hell, Ellie even played with her, which your own mother often wasn’t in the mood to do.

“I can’t believe you, Marles.” You gasped out, nose wrinkling in faux dismay. You rubbed her arm up and down, trying to gently get her attention. Marley looked up at you through her long lashes, plopping her head down on Ellie’s shoulder in a very dramatic, very Marley fashion.

“She chose me fair and square.” Ellie boasted, using her hand to try and smooth down her crazy bedhead.

You took a mental picture, eyes pinching at the corners with the force of your smile. Marley had curled herself up into a ball and didn’t seem prepared to budge any time soon. Ellie didn’t even attempt to hand her off to you. Instead the woman stood up with a small groan, her black sweatpants hanging low on her waist. You tried not to stare at the exposed flesh of her stomach as her tank top rode up but failed miserably. The brunette turned her head to face you, having felt the heat of your gaze, and the both of you exchanged a knowing smile.

“She has her legs pulled up to her chest,” Ellie said with a chuckle, her arms secured tightly around your child. “You’re like a little potato.” She pressed a quick kiss to Marley’s hair when the tiny girl started giggling at the comparison.

“M’ not!” Marley squealed, sticky hands tanging into Ellie’s cropped hair. You watched as she gave her hair a tug, your stomach tensing in panic.

You started to stand up, ready to scold your daughter for her rough treatment, but Ellie was already walking down the hall. You sat in disbelief for a second, questioning whether or not you should go in and check on the two of them. You so rarely had time to yourself like this. It felt wrong to take advantage of this opportunity, but you had a feeling that Ellie had done this on purpose.

Was she trying to drop hints that you looked bad? You were absolutely exhausted last night, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your face was a mess and your clothes in disarray. You anxiously raked through your hair, kicking the tangled sheets off of your legs so that you could run to the nearest mirror.

“Are pancakes for breakfast alright?” Ellie had ducked her head back into the bedroom, a beaming Marley still propped up on her hip. You jumped at the sudden voice, glaring in her direction as she chuckled at your expense.

You weren’t used to being so hard on yourself as far as your appearance goes. Impressing people, these days, was the last thing on your mind. Ellie felt the same way though. She’d be a liar if she said that she hadn’t checked herself out in the mirror you had in the living room, anxious that she looked like hammered dog shit after drooling all over your pillow.

The weight of your head on her chest had her sleeping like a damn baby last night. Marley had acted as a wonderful distraction from her own embarrassment, especially when she realized the back of her hair was practically sticking straight up.

What you didn’t know was that she’d never spent the night with a girl. Not romantically, at least. The both of you were in the exact same anxious boat, and while Ellie knew that she was your first, you had no inkling that you were a lot of her firsts as well.

“Pancakes?” You parroted back to her, wetting your dry lips.

You began tallying up totals in your head, trying to figure out whether or not you had the cash to grab breakfast. You would like to treat Ellie and Marley. . . but after paying the water and the power bill two days ago, you barely had enough to put gas in your car. You felt your cheeks heating up as you tried to come up with a nice way to say “I don’t have the money for pancakes” without sounding like a shitty adult and an even shittier mother.

Ellie could see the way you were over thinking things, her eyes nervously flickering to your closet. You only had a few articles of clothing for yourself, and yet she’d never seen Marley wear the same outfit twice. She’d seen you with your calculator at the grocery store, nervously staring at a total. She knew that you weren’t financially secure- you were a young single mother. The brunette smiled at you, shoving her hands in her pockets as she leaned against the doorframe.

“I make really good pancakes, and it looks like you have everything I need. Marley would be an amazing help too. She’d make my job a lot easier.” She rocked back on the heels of her gray socks, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked at you.

You looked nervous, tired, and adorable as hell. Your band t-shirt was rumpled with sleep and you were standing in tiny white socks, all self conscious and overly critical. She wanted to kiss you… but she hadn’t brushed her teeth.

“Let me go ahead and take her to the bathroom first,” You ran through your daily checklist in your mind, though not forgetting to flash her a thankful smile that nearly had the girl’s legs buckling. “Oh! Uh. . . I have an extra toothbrush. You can have it. Do you want to use the restroom first? It’ll give me some time to get her outfit together for the day.”

Ellie wanted to be selfless and tell you that she didn’t want to go first, but her breath was probably stale and the last thing she wanted was for you to be grossed out by her. She couldn’t fuck this up. She refused to.

You found Marley in her bedroom, having already strewn toys around the room. You let out a small huff of breath, realizing that today was probably going to be a rough one. Each day was different with your little girl. One day she was a perfect angel, only doing what she was told. Other days. . . well, rambunctious didn’t fully encompass her level of energy. Today was going to be one of those days.

“Alrighty, Marles! Let’s pick out a pretty outfit, alright?” You started to walk to her closet, but froze as she began shaking her head. “You don’t want to put on a dress? Or what about some overalls so you can play better?”

“No!” She screamed, running to the other side of her room so that she could grab a few more stuffed animals off of her bed. She tossed those on the ground too, even going as far as to plop down on the floor.

You had hoped that Ellie wouldn’t see this. At least. . . not so soon into the relationship. If she couldn’t accept Marley on bad days like this then you knew she wasn’t the right person for you, but still- you had hoped to slowly introduce this lifestyle to her. Not flat out throw her to the metaphorical wolves. Or. . . to Marley. You felt your bottom lip quiver, but you caught it between your teeth, giving it a few nervous chews before you sat down next to her.

“Do you want to stay in your pajamas?” Your tone was nothing but loving and patient. You were used to this, but Ellie wasn’t. You could only pray that she could accept you. All of you.

“Yes! Please, mommy.” She was getting better at articulating her thoughts and feelings. You found it impossible to deny her when she spoke to you like this. Especially when she asked politely.

So you found herself nodding, flashing her a megawatt smile that she happily returned. You could make a special day out of this. Pancakes and pajamas? It sounded heavenly.

“You’re so polite, baby girl! Alright, we’ll stay in our pajamas today. How about that? And Ellie said that you’re going to help her make breakfast. Are you going to be a big help?”

“Yeah.” She replied, already focused on the baby doll in front of her.

Her hands were still stained a little pink from making the play-doh last night. Once she remembers that she has that to play with too, you can only imagine the mess she’ll make on your dining room table.

You’re beautiful and patient. Ellie watches the two of you interact from the hallway, her breath all minty and her smile all wide. She thinks that she can live like this forever.

And she prays that she gets to.

@viswifetotallyreal @lillysbigwilly @overtrred28 @corpsebridenightamare @jokerpokimoon @macaroni676 @eveshyper @lil-elliesgf @fuckingstarellie @gold-dustwomxn @madislayyy @moonbluz @vianna99 @sawaagyapong @mrsromanoff @glory-grl @sadeyedsugar @inf3ct3dd @teatimedisaster @laucalo @ellieswilliamsgf @machetegirl109 @moonchild184 @onlinelesbo @lasting-lover @luvrrcharr @koremis @elsmissingfingers @whoreshores @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @circe-is-struggling @cqrrnts @elliewilliamsmiller0 @harrysslutsstuff @shewantstoknow @laundrybag29 @darkerstarsstuff @elliesdesperatewife @rulerzreachf4n44 @eviestevie-14 @deliriousrn @diddiqueen @bready101 @felsweb @jaeminpookie @elliesswearjar @2012wannabe @abbysbae @boobabietch @amorqts

855 notes · View notes

toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ bark (like a dog)

a part of new rules ... a svt performance unit x mafia au series !

description. kwon soonyoung is hot. he's fucking smoking, but also painfully out of your reach—being your father's main hitman assistant means that, by the books, he's pretty much off limits. but then again, when did silly stuff like rules ever stop you?

genre. smut (18+), brief angst, mafia au

warnings/tags: PLEASE READ! mentions of murder & death bc hoshi is a hitman, descriptions of blood, reader is daughter of mafia boss, mean dom hoshi, gun play (unloaded), or4l (m receiving), jealousy, sp4nking, breath control, praise kink, blindfolds, th1gh r1iding, pet names (princess, angel, good girl), consent is SEXY

w/c: 7.3k

a/n: thank u @gyuswhore for proofreading hehe ... anyways this is like smut w a hint of plot. sorry not sorry my head's been so full of him

You don’t get nervous.

Not when you overhear your father talking about some risky new plans and not when you go out and know there’s a target on your back.

Not when you snuck out your apartment tonight without your bodyguard to just pop into the galleria that you heard some of your father’s men talking about. Which, by the way, you totally didn’t do because one of them mentioned Kwon Soonyoung being there. Yeah. Totally not.

You weren’t nervous when you waltz into the galleria, in some pretty dress pants and a cute black t-shirt that may or may not have been showing a lot more skin than your father likes. The night was going great, honestly. Fantastic, even.

Until your eyes landed on the very reason you even decided to come here. Kwon Soonyoung.

Again, you don’t get nervous. It’s simply not in your DNA.

So why does having this man next to you make your vision bleary and heart heavy?

“Did you like it?” you murmur, toeing at the grass beneath you with bare feet. You’re at your father’s house now. Soonyoung caught sight of you after you caught sight of him laughing with another woman, which totally shouldn’t have bothered you but you felt green boil in your stomach anyways.

And you watched her lead him into some other hallway with a man and then Soonyoung was gone. He was doing whatever he does, you know? You don’t want to pry into his work, but seeing as he’s your father’s favorite man, it’s kind of hard to avoid the truth.

Soonyoung was definitely just doing his job. Talked to the woman, peppered a few kisses on her cheek to butter her up, got her to introduce to a man who was maybe probably definitely his target, and then he walked out again, fixing his coat over his shoulders as he returned alone. He took you home after that.

You squirm just at the thought. Nightly zephyrs pinch at your skin as you stand in the backyard, but as you feel Soonyoung’s gaze burn into the back of your head, your body warms nonetheless.

Even turned away from him, you can practically feel the way his eyebrow cocks up. “Like what?”

You scoff and roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see you. Oh well, he probably knows anyway. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not sure I do, angel,” he replies without hesitation. Your mind races at the nickname, not because you think it’s a term of endearment, but because you’re almost sure that he’s mocking you. Angel. Fuck, everyone knows you’re anything but a damn angel, and you’d be an idiot to think Soonyoung meant anything other than to belittle you right now.

“Sure,” you mutter dryly, running one hand down your face, before turning around to face him. Kwon Soonyoung is hot, as always, with his dark messy hair falling right over his eyebrows, one of which has a little slit carved into the edge, his plump lips and sharp eyes that watch you carefully.

Even under the dim light of the night sky, he seems to glow beneath the moon.

“Are you going to be all pouty like this for the rest of the night?” When you don’t respond, he huffs loudly. You don’t want him to be annoyed with you, but you cross your arms over your chest and press your feet into the soil stubbornly anyways. “Am I going to have to call Taehyun to drive you home?”

“What, you don’t want to bother doing that yourself?” you snap. Fuck, you don’t even know why you said that. It isn’t Soonyoung’s job to take care of you in any way. Sure he indirectly does that by heeding your father’s order—by killing off any threats when they pop up, but nowhere in his title’s description does it say he needs to take you home, to coddle you, to watch over you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks, and you want to fucking strangle him because if it wasn’t painfully obvious, then to make it clear once more, yeah you want him to take you home. You want him to pull you to his car and press a hand on your thigh and then creep it up your legs until your squirming under his touch and—

You need to stop getting ahead of yourself. Your relationship is—god, you want to say it’s professional, but you can’t even call it that. You and Kwon Soonyoung, your relationship is somehow both less and more than professional.

It’s so intimate—he’s your father’s most loyal worker, he’d go to any lengths to keep your family, to keep you, safe. And yet, even after you’ve seen the blood on his clothes and the imprint of his gun in his pants, he’s a stranger.

Not because you don’t know his favorite color, or because he doesn’t know what kind of food you like, but because even as a million thoughts run through your head, you’re pretty sure he can’t figure out a single one of them.

Finally, you speak up, reverting the topic without answering his question. “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?” Your voice is smaller this time.

“Are you trying to play a guessing game with me?”

Your glare hardens on him. “Fuck you,” you spit out, and Soonyoung puts his hands up in a surrendering motion. “The galleria—did you have fun? Did you like it?”

“Well angel, I hate to break it to you but I was just doing my job. Not that you would know, since you’ve never had to work a damn day in your life, but I don’t necessarily love my job. So if that’s what you want to know, then I guess you have your answer.”

“And with her? Did you—”

“What are you talking about?” he cuts you off harshly, and you’re slightly taken aback by the way his voice booms louder.

“Didn’t know kissing pretty women was a part of your job,” you murmur gruffly before finally making your way to the door that leads back into the house.

“Where’re you going?”

“I also didn’t know that keeping track of where I’m going was a part of your job.”

“You’re not making any damn sense right now, I hope you know that.”

Slipping on some socks, you go on, “Is listening to me a part of your job too? If not, I suggest you just leave me alone and—”

“God, what the hell are you goin’ on about, with all this job shit? Since when did you care about what I do to get a job done?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” you conclude, going to open the door before Soonyoung’s hand stops you.

“Stop being a brat,” he hisses, causing you to press your lips together tightly.

“I am not being a brat,” you scoff, ripping your arm away from him. “If anything, you’re the attention seeker who—”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, attention seeker?”

“Well you were basically throwing yourself at that woman and—” Your breath hitches when you realize what you’ve just said, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you look down.

Soonyoung clicks his tongue, but it’s not as disappointed as you except … if anything, he sounds … sorry. “What do you want from me? You know it’s my job.”

You scoff, shoving your head in your hands out of humiliation. “I think you know exactly what I want from you,” you mutter. Now you’re not really sure what you’re expecting from Soonyoung but it’s definitely not his strong hand on your wrists, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do you want me to take you home or not?”

You look at him, mortified at the bluntness of his suggestion.

“I—what?”

“Look, you’re not very discreet and—”

“Oh my god, stop talking. I need to go and—”

Soonyoung grabs your face. It’s gentle, but his touch is firm and his eyes don’t break away from yours for a moment. His fingers press into the plush of your cheeks, and there’s a both nerve-wracking and alluring aura to it.

“Let’s take you home, or I tell your father where you were last night. How you left your cozy little apartment without your dear Mr. Choi who, if I recall, is supposed to accompany you wherever you go.”

You gape at him—there is no way he’s threatening you right now. You blink once, and then twice, and Soonyoung’s gaze remains unwavering.

Fuck.

Which is how you find yourself seated patiently on Soonyoung’s couch, thighs pressed together and hands on your knees cutely as you watch him fill up a glass of water. You wonder if he can hear the beating of your heart.

If he can, he doesn’t comment on it, instead breaking the silence when he walks over to you, “I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

You grin immediately. “Some fun, of course,” you reply, mentally marveling at your own wit.

Soonyoung fucking laughs at you. His eyes are peering down at you carefully as he juts the glass of water to you, and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that you should just take the damn glass and drink.

His gaze doesn’t waver when you bring the glass up to your lips, slowly but surely downing all its contents and letting the cool water attempt to put out the flames that burn in your stomach. “Good job,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head when you place the glass on his coffee table, the simple but impactful words sending shivers down your spine.

Making the risky decision to test your luck once more, you bat your lashes and bring your arms closer together in front of you so that your tits bunch up, giving Soonyoung a perfect view from above. “So? When’s the fun gonna start?”

Something in his eyes darkens, but you choose to ignore it as Soonyoung slips his dark work coat off, letting it fall behind him on the coffee table. What follows is a heavy thud and clank and your stomach churns at the thought of what caused such a sound.

“Listen,” Soonyoung says, his voice firm but not as demeaning as before. “I need to know where your head is at.” he pauses.

You pout and then raise a challenging brow. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

Soonyoung chuckles, and reaches back for his coat, rummaging through the inner pockets for a moment as your blood runs cold in realization. He unsheathes a heavy black gun from the dark fabric, holding it close to his dress shirt as he smooths a finger over the barrel.

You try to move your fingers but they’re frozen in place as he watches the look on your face contort into some odd look of awe.

“Let me rephrase that,” Soonyoung murmurs. “I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

The air is stuck in your throat and your lungs squeeze and writhe for some semblance of sanity, but the way his thick fingers caress the heavy metal of the gun has your vision going blurry. He’s tracing over all the dips, the curves, the crevices, and you can only imagine what it’ll feel like if you had the cool, heavy, pistol pressed against your skin while Soonyoung’s fingers are all over you.

Your eyes are clouded, and he stills for a moment, subtly sliding the gun past his side and hiding it behind his back with one hand, using the other to grab your chin and tilt your head so you’re craning your neck to look up at him.

“So be honest with me right now.”

He doesn’t say it, but you know what he’s asking for. You don’t have to think about your answer, not one bit, and that’s because through everything, you trust Soonyoung. You trust him with your life, and you trust him with more.

“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” you tell him almost immediately. There’s no hesitation, no apprehension—Soonyoung knows when he looks you in the eye and he swears he feels his heart grow ten times in his chest when your pupils dilate.

Slowly, he brings his hand from his back to the front, the grip of the gun pressing back against his lower abdomen as he squeezes your cheeks together with his other hand. Your lips bunch together in a pucker and he pinches the bottom lip for a moment, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the drool that slides down his chin.

“That’s a pretty bold statement, princess,” he finally says, a sharp clicking sound resonating through the room when he shifts the gun in his hand.

“I can take it,” you insist through squished lips, looking up at Soonyoung with some kind of determination that boils his blood with pure passion.

“You’re confident …” he mutters, holding the gun close to your cheek, pressing the cold metal against your warm skin. You can’t be sure if action helps you cool down or only heats you up anymore, but a wanton whimper escapes your lips and suddenly you have your answer.

Soonyoung watches how you swallow at the contact, fingers quivering by your side and he lets his hand relax for a second, holding the gun by his side. “It’s unloaded.”

“I-I wouldn’t care either way,” you mumble, slightly annoyed that Soonyoung dropped his hand. “I trust you.”

Soonyoung smiles, letting go of your cheeks and instead gripping the back of your neck, running his thumb up and down your collarbone. “It’s okay to be scared, angel. Two taps to stop,” he tells you, pointing at his wrist.

You roll your eyes tentatively, unsure if it’s the right move. When Soonyoung quickly presses the muzzle against your lips, you deduct that rolling your eyes was, in fact, the best thing you could have done.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he mutters, feigning discontent as he tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his work pants when you part your mouth and let the gun sink further into your mouth.

The taste of metal on your tongue is unfamiliar, and frankly the hardness of the gun is quite uncomfortable but when you press your tongue against the base of the barrel, and swirl it over the sides, you imagine it’s Soonyoung’s cock in your mouth instead.

He’s steadying you with his hand pressed at your neck, holding the gun at an angle above you without moving it. The sight of you sucking and struggling, drool dripping down your chin and skin flushing—he’s in heaven he swears.

Cute eyes looking up at him with such desperation, pleading with him silently because you can’t speak—not with the way his gun is stuffed between your pretty lips. “Fuck, how does it feel princess?” he groans at just the image alone.

You’re silent, because of course, how could you say a thing. The only sounds that bounce off the walls are the filthy slurping of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, tears peeking from your waterline as Soonyoung presses the gun further down your mouth, the now slick barrel sliding easily past your teeth.

Your jaw aches and you gag as you adjust to the feeling, but the reality of it all starts to hit you, and it’s dizzying. Soonyoung—fuck, he’s here in front of you with his gun shoved down your throat and you’re looking up at him like he has all the answers to the universe and more.

And more is exactly what you want, and Soonyoung can tell because even as squeaks erupt from your throat and your fingers tremble when they fly up and grip at his thigh, you don’t pull away and you don’t tap out.

It’s worrying for a moment, because here you are with tears streaming down your cheeks but he can hear your silent pleas of don’t stop, please, please, please, don’t stop, and he feels he might go insane at the thought that you’re just as deranged as him.

“So pretty,” he praises, and you press your lips down and whine at the way the words have your cunt throbbing. Slowly, Soonyoung starts to pull the gun out of your mouth, your jaw going slack at the feeling of your tongue being free, but your face is on fire and you just need to do more.

You continue to lap against the gun, swirling it over the circular muzzle when he’s just about pulled it out all the way, not breaking eye contact with Soonyoung for even a moment. It’s addicting, the way he watches you—bottom lip lodged between his own teeth and jaw clenched tight as he imagines it’s his cock inside your mouth instead.

“God fuck, you’re insane,” he says when you kiss the side of the barrel one last time before he carefully places the pistol behind him. For the first time tonight (and ever, for that matter), Soonyoung kisses you. He grabs your warm face and leans down to smash his lips against your swollen, tired mouth.

You’re fatigued already, he can tell, and takes this as his chance to press his tongue against yours and explore the very mouth that sucked against his gun just moments earlier. He can still taste the metal on your tongue, letting your lips melt together as one for just a moment before pulling away.

He can tell there’s a complaint threatening to leave your lips, but he makes sure it shrivels when he shoots you a knowing look. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think? Did s’good for me …”

You nod eagerly, and Soonyoung is thoroughly surprised by how quickly you’ve bounced back, trailing his fingers down from your face to your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. Your legs are wobbly and for a moment, you stumble forward but Soonyoung catches you, his arm steadily belted around your hips.

“Already done?” he asks, but it’s more of a tease than anything. Still, you take it as a challenge and shake your head as he leads you to his bedroom. It’s dimly lit, only the moon through the window and its reflection against a mirror leading you the way to his bed as he hops on, laying back as you stand by the foot of the bed.

He raises a brow. “What are you waiting for? Strip.”

“W-what?”

Soonyoung is still fully clothed, legs spread slightly as he hikes one knee up and watches you expectantly. “Princess,” he coos, “I said strip.”

You shudder at the request when it finally sinks in, and you quickly follow by pushing your pants down and pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you completely topless, your lower half donned with nothing but a set of black satin panties.

Soonyoung swears his heart stops at the sight, and just as you’re about to push them down, he holds his hand out. “Leave them on, come here.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice this time, and you crawl onto the foot of the bed before making your way in between his legs, only stopping when Soonyoung places his heavy hands on your shoulders and smoothes them down your bare arms.

You sigh contently at the contact, instinctively shooting one hand between your legs to rub at the growing ache. You hardly make it though, Soonyoung’s hand shooting out and stopping your wrist halfway. “Thought you wanted a reward? Getting ahead of yourself, huh …”

You shake your head vehemently. “N-no—I jus’—need something, need you, Soonyoung,” you confess, leaning forward in hopes that he’ll meet you halfway for a kiss.

He doesn’t, opting to watch you amusedly as you squirm on all fours in front of him. “Show me how much you need me,” Soonyoung rasps out, helping you settle over yourself over his thigh before placing his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard casually.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you place your hands on his chest for hardly a second before he swats them away. “W-what?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he asks, and he’s definitely mocking you with his tone. “And keep your hands to yourself—you only get to touch me if you can prove to me you want this.”

“I want it, Soonyoung, so bad! So, so, so bad, you don’t understand!” you whine, bouncing yourself up and down to punctuate your word but gasps leaving your lips at the friction it leaves behind.

“Yeah well,” he sighs, adjusting his body so he’s laying even further back down. “Make me understand. Make yourself cum.” Your plush lips part, agape at his proposition. Why he can’t just fuck you into the sheets right here and right now is beyond you, but Soonyoung’s eyes light like a flame and you aren’t sure if you want to add fuel to the fire or put out.

Tentatively, you rut your core against the hard muscle of his thigh, the friction of his dark dress pants shooting pleasure through your flimsy panties. You have half a mind to rip the damn fabric off, but the rubbing of cloth that bunches around your clit is more pleasurable than anything.

“See,” Soonyoung murmurs, as you repeat the motion of rocking yours forward and back in a slow rhythm. “Pretty angel does know how to work for something. Let’s see if you can keep it up,” he hums, and you glower down at him.

“I-I know how to work,” you huff, grinding down extra hard as a means to prove your point, but your argument falls flat when you whimper, hands falling forward on his chest as your body lurches forward. Soonyoung’s own firm grip lands on your wrists, yanking them off of him.

“Do you, now?” he scoffs. “Can’t follow simple fuckin’ directions,” he says under his breath, and instead of glaring, your eyebrows furrow as you hold your arms close to your chest, massaging your tits yourself to keep your hands occupied.

“‘m sorry Soonyoungie,” you say softly, losing the attitude that held your head up and replacing it with a wave of compliance as you cling onto the friction against your cunt, desperate to not let your far-away orgasm to ebb away.

“Soonyoungie, huh?” he mutters, watching the way your tits bounce when you work your body in a harsher up and down motion, letting the soiled fabric of your panties to stain his own pants. “Cute name, but you’re gonna have to work a bit harder,” he comments, and he’s true to his word because Soonyoung does think it’s cute. He thinks you’re cute, and hot, and pretty, and the only person he wants to stick his dick into, but fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you beg, make you sob for it …

Fervently, you start to find a pace that’s steadily increasing, thighs burning and twitching at every brush of your sopping pussy over him. You’re wet—so wet—and you know Soonyoung can feel it through his pants. How he’s so still and composed is beyond you, and while you try to think about what’s running through his mind, your brain goes empty the second you feel one of his hands on your hips.

“So spoiled,” he chides, and you want to shake your head and protest, ‘cause no! You’re not spoiled! But you know damn well that’d be a lie, and as you feel Soonyoung flex his muscle beneath you and use his hand to help swivel your hips, it’s only confirmed.

“Hnggff—S-Soony—”

“S’okay,” he groans, when the knee that’s wedged between his legs brushes against his crotch that holds his undeniably hard cock. You both shudder at the feeling—Soonyoung because of the small but relieving stimulation, and you because of the anticipation of feeling him inside of you. “Go on, baby, can tell you’re close. Fuck yourself like this—I know you can do it.”

“Hurts,” you sigh softly as your legs begin to tremble and give into the fatigue. “Soonie, I can’t, I—” you cut yourself off with your own high pitched moan when he hikes his leg up a little higher, causing you ro shift forward and arch your back so that your clit was pressed perfectly against his thigh. “God, fuck.”

“What do you mean you can’t, angel?” he coos in that both infuriating and pulsing tone of his. “You’re doin’ it for me right now …”

“I—I …” the words dry right on your throat when your orgasm crashes into you, the ghost of Soonyoung’s name on your tongue as you fall forward. You know he told you no touching, no holding, none of that, but fuck, even he can’t be mad when you press your face into his chest with low mewls bubbling up in your throat.

Securing an arm around your waist, he bounces his thigh upwards to push you through your fall, squeezing out every last bit of pleasure you’ll allow him until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation but too exhausted to pull away.

“‘m tired,” you whine through broken gasps, as you pull away and look up blankly at the ceiling. Soonyoung watches the way your tits shift with every inhale and exhale, and before he knows it he’s fumbling at the buckle of his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down so his dripping cock can finally breathe.

The sound of his length slapping against his firm abdomen has you blinking into reality quicker than you can think, and you glance at Soonyoung who sits in front of you. His cock is standing up, pulsing tall and proud, adorning a pretty, angry tip that smears precum over his defined abs.

“Too tired?” he piques, but with the way that drool dribbles at the corner of your lips, he knows he already has an answer. Grinning when you shake your head vigorously, he shifts himself so his bare legs hang over the edge of the bed, his hands placed behind him as he leans back. “Get on the ground.”

Two hours ago, you would have shut down the proposition immediately. Getting on the ground for a man? Completely out of your scope. Unfathomable, honestly.

But Soonyoung’s voice is so … it’s—he isn’t proposing, or suggesting, or asking, no … Soonyoung is demanding and you’d be damned to let him think you’re anything less than obedient. Quickly, you push yourself up and crawl over to where he’s sitting before slipping off the bed and slotting yourself between his legs.

As you sit back on your heels, the wetness of your core slides down your thighs and as your legs press together, the arousal smears against your supple skin, undoubtedly making a mess. It feels so dirty and lewd but as Soonyoung watches you with dark eyes, you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet.

Gentler than you were expecting, he uses one hand to hold your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Angel got a smart mouth, huh,” he says, as if he’s talking to himself as he runs a thumb over your lips, starting from the top then circling down to the bottom. He scoops up some of the drool that you hadn’t wiped away and then pushes it all back into your mouth from the corner of your lips. “You think you can put it to good use?”

“‘course I can,” you say a bit more proudly than Soonyoung enjoys. You’re cute, yeah—fuck yeah—but you look up at him like it’s some sort of challenge and he just needs to remind you of who’s really in charge.

And so he holds you by the crown of your head, guiding your mouth close to his cock which dons a dribble of precum. You stick your tongue out at the sight, eyes wide in anticipation as he uses his other hand to guide your own fingers to your thigh. “Same thing,” he tells you, “two taps and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” you agree, verbally this time with a nod before pushing your tongue back out in hopes that he’ll speed it all out because fuck, you haven’t ever wanted to feel a cock in your mouth this badly. But who can blame you? It’s so long and thick and—god, it’s so heavy when he taps that tip against your tongue.

You open your mouth wider, anticipating him to push it down further like he did with the gun, but you should’ve known better. Should’ve known that Soonyoung likes toying around with you.

Soonyoung lets you lap precum off his shiny tip, swirling over the slit for just a second before he’s lifting his cock and then slapping it back down on your tongue this time. The contact is light, but the thickness of it all and the ache in your core has you pleading for more.

When a desperate whimper rips through your throat, Soonyoung grins. And so he does it again. And again. And again. Slapping his cock on your tongue until he can’t handle it anymore, cock throbbing at just the thought of you sucking against him like you did his pistol, and slides his length into your mouth without warning.

“Fuck,” he moans, and you vaguely wonder if there could be anything that sounds more melodic. You press your tongue against the length, hardening the tip and tracing it over the curves, the veins—anything and everything you can feel—as if you were trying to memorize him bit by bit.

Soonyoung basks in it, the image of you stuffed with his cock in your mouth, lips puffy but eyes somehow begging for more. He loves it, he tells himself in his head. Such a spoiled girl, but then again, his spoiled girl.

“Ready?” he asks, stiffening his hold on your hair and giving you a knowing look. Meekly, you nod with his cock still spreading your lips, and with nothing more than a nod, Soonyoung pushes you down his full length, nose pressed against his pelvis as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

And it hurts so good—your jaw is sore and you’re on the verge of gagging because he’s so big but something about the way your lungs burn and throat tightens has your mind set on not stopping.

Soonyoung is watching you intently when he finally lets go, pulling you off of his length and allowing you a moment to breathe. He wonders how far is too far with you, but when you just pant heavily, looking up at him with your tongue stuck out once more, inching closer to him, he figures he’s still got a long way to go.

So Soonyoung does it again; softly murmurs, “Take a deep breath,” and then yanks your head down until all you can feel is his cock bullying its way through your lips, your hollowed out cheeks, your throat. His loud moans egg you on, and you nearly start to tremble at the way you start to feel light-headed. He holds you down for longer this time, and this time, tears are gushing down your face but no, you won’t relent.

Its enthralling for the both of you, and it doesn’t stop. Soonyoung starts a pattern. Push down, hold, release, repeat. Push down, hold, release, repeat. And he does it until he feels his cock twitch in your warm mouth and has to almost push you back to hold off from cumming.

He just can’t do it, not yet. Not until he’s felt you flush against his skin, bodies intertwined as he fucks into you.

So when he pulls you off this time, you know it’s the last (for now, at least). You breathe steadily, in through your nose and out through your mouth as you recuperate, staring at the floor. Gingerly, Soonyoung hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up so you’re sitting next to him on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly when he catches the clouded look on your face. When you slowly look at him and nod with a dazed smile, Soonyoung just knows he’s in love. You look so happy, so eager to submit and he loves the way you trust him, loves the way you know he’s going to treasure you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your puffy lips as he stands up and walks over in front of the bed where his dresser is.

You frown at the idea of him being away from you. “Need it no-o-ow, Soonie,” you drawl out, standing up and making your way to Soonyoung, reaching out to place your palm against the hard muscle of his back. You run your hand over him, and for a few moments, he lets you.

You can feel the twitch of each hard earned, firm muscle as he moves around through his desk space, and you silently wonder what it’ll feel like to dig your nails into his back in another heated moment. Fuck, you’re so down bad.

“You’re so greedy,” Soonyoung mutters, finally turning around to grab your wrists. On one side, you feel something cool and soft press against your skin, and glancing down, you recognize it as the feeling of black satin against your arm. “I told you to sit down, didn’t I?”

You frown, but oblige anyways, shuffling over to the middle of the bed, sitting down neatly on your knees as Soonyoung stands in front of you by the edge. He’s holding the ribbon in both hands now, the silk taut as he holds it up to your head.

“You okay with this?” he asks, pressing the silk right up against your eyes that have since fluttered shut, but he doesn’t quite tie it just yet. You inhale deeply for a second and then nod. “Words princess. I need words.”

“Yes,” you comply. “I’m okay.”

As soon as you’ve given him the green light, he’s bringing the two ends of the silk behind your head and tying it into a tight knot. “Is it comfortable?” he asks sincerely, waving a hand in front of your face. “D’you see that?”

“Uhh, yes and no,” you respond, slightly confused and still getting used to not being able to see anything.

“Good,” he says to himself, and you feel the mattress dip, causing you to lose a bit of your balance, jutting your hands out to grab onto anything. Immediately, you feel Soonyoung’s hands on you, and your muscles lose their tension. “Relax. I’m right here.”

Those seem to be just the words you need to hear, because you’re sitting back down, sitting a bit more comfortably this time as you feel Soonyoung shift around on the mattress. This is Soonyoung, this is Soonyoung, you remind yourself, and he’ll always keep you safe.

“C’mere,” his thick voice breaks through your thoughts, and you flail around for a moment trying to trace his voice. There’s a hand on your shoulder soon, guiding you toward the direction of the headboard and you tentatively crawl over, yelling out in surprise when you quickly feel two hands wrap under your thighs and lift you up.

Your shock is soon replaced with a burning desire when Soonyoung finally places you on his lap, and you can feel his rock hard length pressing against your inner leg as you settle over his thighs. All you can hear for a moment is your sharp breaths, but then there’s a hard smack against your ass.

“Go on angel … you know what you want to do—what’re you waiting for?”

You want to curse Soonyoung right now, because how the hell d’he know? But then again, you don’t really care because here he is, egging you on.

So gingerly, you lift your hips over him and shuffle forward so that your stomach is pressed against his chest. You feel one of his hands find purchase on your waist while the other reaches between the dripping mess that starts to splay between your cores and positions his cock against your soaked folds.

And then he’s presses rough kisses into your neck and sliding his tongue over your collarbone, murmuring, “Go on princess, go on,” and you can fucking hear the own want in his strained voice. Soonyoung is just as far gone as you, but you don’t have the liberty to linger on that fact for more than a moment before your cunt takes hold of all your senses and you instinctively sink down on him.

The moan Soonyoung let’s out is deep, gruff, guttural, and has your walls instinctively clenching around him and your hazed frenzy. “Good girl,” he grunts as you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders.

Your head swings around for a few moments as your eyes well up with tears from the initial stretch, but soon Soonyoung’s soft words of praise are pulling you down to reality and reminding you that he’s right here, that this is happening, whispering sweet and filthy nothings into your ear as you adjust to having him inside you.

“See,” he croons, stroking your chin with his thumb as you slowly grind down on him, both of you letting out soft gasps at the feeling. “Being so good for me, princess,” he hums, and you can’t even see the expression on his face but you know he’s not finished. “Wonder what the boss is gonna think of this,” he chuckles under his breath.

Your fingers tighten on his shoulders at his words, hugging his head close as you anticipate what he’s about to say next, trying your best to keep your soft mewls to yourself. It’s hard—really hard—because Soonyoung is big and he’s jutting his hips upwards sharply but sporadically, making it impossible to tell when he’s going to be punching moans straight out of your lungs.

“So good. Being so good for me, but so bad for everyone else,” he whispers into your neck as you start to bounce your hips to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Fuck,” you moan, both from the way he’s battering your inside, reaching so deep you don’t even know how he’s fit.

And Soonyoung doesn’t stop there, at least not with his words. “Sneaking out—” He snaps up harshly, his fat tip pressing against spots inside your cunt that have you writhing into him. “—Lying to your dad—” He continues to punctuate himself with more rough, emphasizing thrusts. “—Going out unattended—Breaking the rules—” He grunts out especially loudly at the last one, burying his head into your beck from the pleasure that radiates you both. “But you won’t do that to me, right princess? G’na be my good girl, right?”

“A-always,” you stutter out through strangled gasps for air as your body lurches around from the deep pounding of his hips. You’re so close—fuck it, you’re nearly there, and you pulse around him, digging your face into his hair from above as you try your best to swivel your hips but then, it all comes to a halt.

“Wha—what?!” you nearly shriek when he grips your hips so tightly that you both still, and suddenly the knot that’s been tying so carefully at the base of your stomach is unraveling and not in the way that you’d like. Your orgasm ebbs away into some far distance that you can’t reach, especially not in the frantic state you’re in after having lost just what might have been the best high of your life. “Why would you do that?”

Soonyoung watches your pained expression from below with the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, quirking an eyebrow at your accusing questions. He presses a hand down on your stomach when you try to buck upwards for some—any—sort of relief. “You already came once. You didn’t think you’d get the second that easily, did you?”

Any snarky remark you’d be able to come up with withers away and all you’re left with is a big fat frown. “I—” you stutter in short breaths before huffing out, “I was s’close.”

“I know princess. But you can be good, right? Good for me?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with the back of his hand before tugging at the silk, letting the blindfold fall from your eyes and land on his abdomen. Your eyebrows are furrowed in a way that Soonyoung can only describe as cute, and from beneath you, he brings his palm down on your ass harshly, the sound of the smack resonating through his room.

As you blink your eyes into comfort, adjusting to the dim light, Soonyoung lifts his hip, causing his length to shift deeper inside of you, and you lurch forward at the sensation of him kissing your cervix.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, eyes pressed closed tightly as he steadies your hips with his hands and in one swift movement, flips you both over so your back is to the mattress and he hovers on top of you.

You’re overwhelmed with it all—being deprived of your vision for so long and now you get to take it all in—the beads of sweat rolling down Soonyoung’s pretty peaks and valleys of abs, his dark hair splayed all over the face, flush cheeks and furrowed eyebrows as he focuses his vision on where his cock meets your cunt—fuck.

“You wanna cum?” he grunts in your ear, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eye as he draws his hips back, slamming back into your sloppy cunt. Then he brings his lips right by the shell of your ear and in a hoarse, mangled whisper, he demands, “Beg for it.”

And beg you do.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s waist and dig crescent moons into his shoulders, draw pretty red lines into his back and you sob into the sheets, into his shoulder. And your walls hug him in again and again and let him whisper filthy words into your ears until you can’t even comprehend the depraved images he’s drawing into your head.

Ecstasy courses through your veins and your body knows nothing other than the enigma that is Kwon Soonyoung who pushes you so far, until you’re breaking beneath him—a wailing mess as you tell him how good it all feels, how his fat cock batters your cunt so well that you can do nothing other than choke out sweet ‘thank you’s and hoarse, ‘please’s.

And he makes you work for it, just like he promised, urging you to beg just a little more, swiveling his thrusts so that each stroke hits all your sweet spots, finally giving in when he mutters into your neck, “Let go princess, let go.”

And when you finally feel every string that’s been so meticulously woven together, teetering at the edge of breaking for ages, you let it all snap. Crying into his skin as you let him fuck you into an orgasm, hitting you harder than you could even imagine as every muscle goes limp and all you know is Kwon Soonyoung is here next to you, and he here to stay, because after a few more pumps his hot cum is filling you to the brim and more.

Soonyoung kisses you like he could swallow you whole. Like he could bathe in nothing but your arms and be the happiest man alive.

It’s the realization that hits you when he collapses over you, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you as your mouths connect in a maniac passion. More. It’s always more with Soonyoiung. He’ll protect you and more. He’ll hold you and more.Stroking the curve of your hips gently, you know—he’s going to love you and more.

a/n. first part of new rules is done, three more to go! chan will most likely be next, so stay tuned hehe! i hope u all enjoyed :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @whippedforjihoon @xiaoting999 @hipsdofangirl @valenhui @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @seokchannieworld @yunjinified @dnylwoo @nishloves @woozarts @etherealyoungk (strikethrough could not be tagged) join here!

#soonyoung scenarios #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung smut #hoshi #hoshi scenarios #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi fanfic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt smut #seventeen smut #📝 writing

1K notes · View notes

elryuse · 24 days

Note

Reader is a tourist enjoying a stroll around a South Korean city, and a limo/high-class car pulls up next to them and the door opens. BlackPink is inside, and they offer the Reader a fun time with them for a night or two.

THE CITY OF LIGHTS

BLACKPINK X MALE READER

GENRE : SLIGHT SMUT, RICH IDOL BLACKPINK, TEASING, FIVESOME?, SLIGHT YANDERE/OBSESSIVE

Y/N'S POV

Neon signs assaulted my senses, a kaleidoscope of color against the inky Seoul night. The city buzzed with honking horns and the rhythmic sizzle of street food vendors. Lost in a daze, backpack slung over my shoulder, I wandered the bustling streets, a wide-eyed tourist overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.

Suddenly, a sleek limousine purred to a halt beside me. My head snapped up, and the world seemed to stop. Tinted windows rolled down, revealing a scene straight out of a fever dream. Four women, each impossibly stunning, were bathed in the soft glow of the car's interior. One, with hair the color of spun moonlight, caught my eye and winked.

"Hey there, foreigner!" Her voice, like honeyed silk, sliced through the cacophony. "Lost in the city of lights?"

It was Jennie, a member of the biggest K-Pop group in the world. I stammered, a jumbled mess of Korean courtesy bows and awkward greetings flying out of my head.

"We're Jennie, Rosé, Jisoo, and Lisa," the one with cascading black hair chimed in, each introducing themselves with practiced smiles. "And you look like you could use some fun. How about joining us for a night?"

My jaw hung slack. Was this a prank? A figment of jet lag and Korean street food? But before I could process the absurdity, Jennie popped the cork of a bottle that materialized in her hand. Champagne fizzed, mirroring the excitement bubbling in my stomach.

"Cheers to new friends and unforgettable nights!" she declared, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Without a second thought, I popped the offered glass open. The fizzy bubbles danced on my tongue, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. The night became a sensory overload. We weaved through hidden bars with thumping music and exclusive clubs where celebrities mingled amongst the crowd. Rosé, with lips that tasted like strawberries and laughter that tinkled like wind chimes, brushed up against me under the dim disco lights. Her touch sent a jolt through my system, a playful fire igniting in my chest.

Then, as the moon climbed high, the limousine whisked us away to a secluded rooftop bar overlooking the city. The twinkling skyline stretched out below, a breathtaking backdrop for the scene unfolding before me. Rosé leaned impossibly close, surprising me with a kiss. Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted of something sweet and forbidden. Confusion battled with a surge of desire within me. But as I melted into her kiss, the world around me faded away.

When we pulled apart, breathless and slightly dazed, I saw a knowing look exchanged between the other girls. A playful smirk danced on Lisa's lips, and Jisoo, a quiet ember smoldering in her eyes, reached for my hand.

Their touch was electric. Jisoo, elegant and reserved, led me to a plush corner booth. The city lights shimmered below, a million tiny diamonds scattered across the black velvet canvas. Her touch felt like silk, gliding down my arm, sending shivers down my spine. Leaning in, she whispered in my ear, her voice a husky caress, "Do you trust us?"

I could only nod, mesmerized by the way her eyes held mine. A playful smile curved her lips. With a flick of her wrist, she untied the strap of her dress, revealing a glimpse of creamy skin before pulling back. The subtle invitation hung in the air, a silent promise.

The night unraveled in a tapestry of sensuality. Lisa, the fiery dancer, stole kisses under the moonlight, each touch sending a tremor through my body. Her laughter echoed in the night air as she danced with me on the rooftop, her body pressed suggestively against mine. Then there was Jennie, the bold leader, whose confidence and playful dominance ignited a fire in my core. Her hands explored my body, her touch sending shivers down my spine. Each kiss was a delicious exploration, her every breath a whisper of promises.

But it was Rosé, the innocent seductress, who stole a piece of my heart. Her touch was a gentle exploration, her kisses filled with unspoken desires. As we lay intertwined on a plush chaise lounge, her body soft and warm against mine, her soft moans sent a thrill through me. Her lips traveled down my neck, trailing kisses that left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

The night was a symphony of touch, of whispered secrets and stolen kisses. They were each a different kind of woman, a different kind of passion. Each awakened desires I never knew existed within me. With Jisoo, it was a slow burn, a promise of something deeper. With Lisa, a fiery dance, a release of pent-up energy. With Jennie, a demanding storm, a thrilling surrender. But with Rosé, it was a connection that went deeper, a vulnerability that left me breathless.

The first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, as we lay exhausted but exhilarated, tangled in a mess of limbs on the plush chaise lounge. The city below slowly woke up, but in our own little world, a different kind of awakening had taken place.

The limousine, silent witness to our night of stolen pleasures, whisked us away to a part of Seoul I could only dream of. A gleaming skyscraper rose into the sky, and the limo pulled up to its opulent entrance. Stepping out, I found myself gazing at a sprawling penthouse apartment, the city lights twinkling like a million fireflies at our feet.

Inside, the apartment was a luxurious haven. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, and plush couches beckoned us in. As we sprawled out, a playful battle of seduction ensued. Jisoo, with a mischievous glint in her eye, ordered a smorgasbord of delicious snacks. Lisa, ever the energetic one, cranked up the music, filling the room with a playful vibe.

"Movie night, anyone?" Rosé asked, a playful smile on her lips.

They snuggled together on a plush couch, leaving a spot next to Rosé. Without hesitation, I joined them, the warmth of their bodies a delicious contrast to the cool night air. The movie started, a lighthearted comedy that barely held my attention. My focus was entirely on the women beside me.

Rosé, nestled against me, leaned her head on my shoulder. Her touch was a feather-light caress, sending shivers down my spine. Suddenly, Jennie leaned in, her lips brushing against my ear. "You have beautiful eyes," she whispered, her voice husky. My heart hammered in my chest as I felt her hand linger on my thigh.

A silent battle of affection unfolded. Jisoo would steal a kiss to my cheek, then Lisa would whisper a sweet nothing in my ear, all while the movie played on. As inhibitions faded, the kisses deepened, exploring hands igniting a fire within me. They each tasted different, felt different, but all sent a surge of desire coursing through my veins.

Lost in a haze of kisses and whispered promises, I realized none of us were paying attention to the movie anymore. Our focus had entirely shifted, entangled in a web of unspoken desires. It wasn't a competition, but an exploration – a discovery of a love that defied definition. Here, on this plush couch, bathed in the warm glow of the city lights, I found a love story unfolding, not with one, but with four extraordinary women.

When the movie finally ended, the room was filled with the sound of our ragged breaths and the soft murmur of confessions.

"Stay with us," they pleaded, their voices laced with vulnerability. "Don't leave us."

Looking into their eyes, each sparkling with a newfound love, I knew there was no place I'd rather be. This night, born out of chance and fueled by desire, had blossomed into something more profound. In this opulent penthouse, under the watchful gaze of a million city lights, I found a love story sweeter than any Hollywood fairytale - a love story shared between five souls, forever intertwined.

A soft smile spread across my face as I met their gazes, each one filled with a hope that mirrored my own. Leaving them was never an option. This whirlwind night had transformed me from a wide-eyed tourist to a man captivated by four extraordinary women.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, the words heavy with newfound purpose.

Their faces lit up, smiles blooming like flowers in the dawn's first light. Jisoo, with a playful glint in her eye, leaned in and brushed a kiss against my cheek. "Welcome home," she murmured.

That penthouse became my home. Days were filled with stolen moments between schedules, whispered confessions in hidden corners. Jennie, the fiery leader, surprised me with a breakfast of perfectly cooked pancakes, a shy smile gracing her lips. Rosé, the innocent seductress, would leave me little notes hidden in my backpack, each one filled with sweet nothings. Lisa, the energetic dancer, would drag me on impromptu dance sessions in the living room, her laughter echoing through the room.

Newspapers buzzed with speculation, paparazzi pictures showing us leaving restaurants or entering the studio together. But behind the facade of fame and fortune, a love story unfolded. We navigated the chaos of their world together, a secret tucked away in the heart of Seoul.

Months turned into years. The penthouse became a haven, a testament to the love we shared. My tourist visa transformed into a long-term residency permit. I wasn't just Y/n, the tourist who stumbled upon fame, I was Y/n, the boyfriend of Blackpink.

One starlit night, as we lay sprawled on the rooftop, the city lights twinkling like a promise, Rosé snuggled closer. "Remember our first night?" she asked, her voice laced with nostalgia.

We reminisced about the stolen kisses and shared glances, the whirlwind night that brought us together. It was a journey that began with a limousine and a chance encounter, a love story unlike any other.

As the moonlight bathed us in its silver glow, I knew I was exactly where I belonged. Here, in this city with its neon lights and bustling streets, nestled amidst the chaos, I found a love story that defied definition. It wasn't a fairytale with a prince charming and a damsel in distress, it was a love story shared by five souls, forever intertwined. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

248 notes · View notes

raitonsfw · 5 months

Text

𝚢𝚘𝚔𝚘𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚊'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 (𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞) | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had saved you from the near pits of hell and you smiled at his invitation requesting that you join the agency. When you accepted his invitation, he was over the moon and you two quickly became inseparable. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and you thought nothing of it as you were too shy to return them. That is until he asks to spend the night in the midst of a snowstorm, let alone sleep in the same bed as you? You couldn’t say no, the thought of finally being with him weighing heavily on your mind.

warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, virgin!reader, shy!reader, smut, first time, fingering, cunnilingus, breast play, grinding (specifically dazai grinding against the bed), p in v intercourse, a little bit of pain, teasing, slight dirty talk, cursing, consent, pining (if you squint), embarrassment (reader moans loudly and dazai fucking loves it), implied aftercare, mention of a dazai-typical suicide, reader wraps his bandages around him for him bc he cant do it himself (he’s a stubborn boy), pet names (darling, precious thing, baby, my dear), use of honorifics.

a/n: a piece for one of my dear followers, i hope you enjoy lovely! 🧡 personally adore writing dazai in every type of scenario and i also have another virgin!reader request for him with a special twist so fellow dazai lovers, be on the lookout for that in the next few days! wc: 3k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

The air was astonishingly crisp and you sighed into your sleeve, the wind catching up to you to ultimately freeze you over. The coat you wore didn’t keep you very warm, it shouldn’t even be classified as a winter coat to be fair. Your boots crunched under the frost that had accumulated on the sidewalk and you bundled yourself up tightly as the winter picked up its rein over Yokohama, snow falling against the rooftops and you fumbled with your keys to the apartment door in front of you.

Your apartment had a sickle warmth coming from it and you nearly collapsed onto the sofa from exhaustion. The day had been nothing but helping Yosano shopping in the heart of the city, the bags heavily weighing you down as she piled on top as much stuff she could possibly buy for the holidays. It was a cute gesture, you thought but you didn’t think that Ranpo needed that much candy stuffed into his stocking.

The sun had just begun to set, the lack of light barely registering as you looked around the dim apartment. It was neater than usual and you picked up the presence that somebody had cleaned it for you. The kitchen was tidied up with the exception of some baked treats sitting out on the counter and the living room had a scented candle lit against the coffee table. You couldn’t think of anyone else who had your house key besides Dazai.

“Dazai-san?” You whispered out, looking towards the bedroom for his company. He sometimes stayed in your apartment after a much needed break from the agency dorms, away from its noise and the constant bugging of the other coworkers that resided there. You two were close, but there was still a certain distance kept between the both of you; but you trusted him nonetheless since he was the one who had invited you to join the agency.

Peering into your bedroom, Dazai was fast asleep. Light snores came from him and you smiled to yourself as you moved over to wake him up. He was in your bed mind you, this has happened quite often and you found it adorable that he sought comfort in your bed. You knew he harbored feelings for you, that was the distance that refused to close between you two; you were simply just too shy to return his feelings and he never made a move on you in fear of making you uncomfortable.

You placed your hand on his shoulder, the action enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes lazily opened and he yawned loudly, “Oh, Y/N-san, you’re home.”

“Thank you for cleaning.”

“Needed a place to escape to, Atsushi-kun was driving me insane.” He whispered, stretching out onto the bed. He looked at you with a tired expression and you wished you could just gently lean down and kiss him but your nerves got the best of you. Again. You pressed your lips together as you pulled your hand away from his shoulder.

“Can we share the bed tonight?” Dazai asked as he sat up from the bed, a smile playing on his lips. “It’s sooo comfy.”

You blushed at his comment, completely blindsided by the sudden request from him. You were more than fine with him sleeping over, the snow had begun to pile up on the streets and it was beginning to look like a blizzard as it blew past the windows heavily. But sharing the bed is something he’s never asked you before, the intimacy of it making your cheeks hot. Normally he’d sleep on the sofa if he ever stayed over, leaving you to the privacy of your room.

But this was different. Perhaps he was actually going to make a move on you? You weren’t really sure, the thought of it made your pulse quicken. Whatever happened you’d embrace it with open arms, hoping for a flourishing love with the man who had saved you from your old life.

You nodded and left him alone as you went about your home routines, though it didn’t last long as he followed you around your apartment with a grin. He ordered dinner for the both of you at no cost to you at all, though in truth it was probably Kunikida’s credit card he swiped because there was no way Dazai actually had more than twenty dollars on him. He rambled on about his day between mouthfuls and you found out about his suicide attempt had ultimately failed again, Ranpo’s breakdown about having not enough yummy snacks, and the holiday break coming up for the agency that you missed out on.

Before you knew it, the clock struck late and you were standing in front of your bed after your shower, contemplating whether this was a good idea or not. Dazai had hopped in the shower after you, the water running as background noise for your thoughts. You dried off your hair, sitting on the edge of the bed and you heard the soft melodic hum of his song flow through the apartment.

You dimmed the lights and went to find a book to read before bed when you heard the water turn off and you mildly panicked as he came out a few moments later, in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. You had just gotten underneath the covers, the book opened to the page where you left off last abandoned as you gazed at Dazai.

“I left clothes here before, haven’t I?” He muttered to himself, rummaging around your room as you sat quietly on the bed watching him. The droplets from his hair ran down his exposed chest back, something you didn’t see very often as his bandages wrapped around him fully. You felt that ache between your thighs, that cursed feeling that you knew you couldn’t satisfy very well. You were heavily inexperienced after all, the slightest bit of arousal made you quiver and you’ve never actually been with anyone due to the quietness you displayed.

“I think you left them in the second drawer, Dazai-san.” You murmured quietly, pointing to the dresser next to you. He glanced over to it then laughed to himself, opening the dresser to retrieve his clothing and a fresh stash of bandages to wrap himself in.

“Of course I did, making myself right at home aren’t I?” He disappeared back into the bathroom and you exhaled shakily, pressing your thighs together underneath the covers.

You heard a soft noise of disapproval from behind the closed door and Dazai came out with only his sweats on, a mild irritation waving over his face. “Kunikida-kun bought me the wrong brand. They don’t wrap right.”

“Let me see?” You offered quietly, extending your hand out for the roll of bandages. He placed the wrinkled ball in your hand, (he must’ve balled them up in frustration), and you smoothed them out gently. Dazai sat in front of you in a criss-cross, his eyes following your movements as you started the end of the bandage at his shoulder.

“I’ll start the wrap for you, then you do the rest yourself.” You said, holding onto the end of the wrap with your finger as you tangled the next wrap behind his neck and to the crevice of his other shoulder. You continued your motions for a bit, repeating it over and over until you got to his arms. You were practically red from the amount of time you stared at his chest while wrapping, but you kept silent as you handed the roll back to him.

“Can you do the rest please?” Dazai pouted at you, thrusting the bandages back into your hands. You didn’t know why he wanted you to do it, he was already mostly wrapped in the bandages.

“W-Why?”

“Because I like seeing how flustered you get.” He said with a slight taunt and you dropped the bandages in his lap as you finished one loop around his arm. You couldn’t respond, a flush spreading throughout your cheeks again as you reached down to pick up the roll when you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweats.

He was hard. In front of you, in the middle of your bed, and your heart skipped a beat. You felt the arousal slick right against your panties and you could barely contain yourself as your hand faltered whilst reaching the bandages. You must’ve been a bit obvious though as your chin was lifted up to look back at him and his dark brown eyes stared back at you with a glint of lust clouding the rims.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Dazai cooed, leaning in closer to you with a smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Dazai-san…” You whispered and he closed the space between you two, finally. You squeaked in surprise as he swiped his tongue into your mouth with ease and he pushed you back into the pillows gently. He climbed over top of you as he deepened the kiss, the bandages abandoned at his side, and you placed your hands on his chest.

“This is okay, right?” He murmured into the kiss, moving to plant kisses down your neck and your voice trailed off as you attempted to speak.

“Um, yes but…” Dazai came up from your neck to look at you with a worried expression.

“What is it, Y/N-san?” He asked, about to get up but you instantly held him in place. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, you definitely wanted him, wanted this– but he had to know you were a virgin.

“I’m a virgin.” You whispered, averting your gaze with the crimson tint in your cheeks coloring even more. “Is that okay?”

It was more than okay in Dazai’s eyes, he’d show you– the girl he grew to admire from day one, all the ways he could love you and care for you. No one else had the pleasure to touch you as he did, he wanted you all to himself. Ever since he found you stranded from the depths of despair and nursed you back towards the agency with wide eyes. That’s why he was quick to close the gap between you two, he couldn’t stand to see someone else take you as theirs.

“Of course it is.” Dazai assured as his fingers slipped into the shorts you wore, playing with the waistband for a moment. His other hand cupped at your breast lightly and he came down to kiss it over clothed skin. You held onto his back as he laid himself fully on top of you now, grinding into your thigh slightly. “Am I allowed to…?”

“Yes, please.” You said and you felt him ruck up your shirt, pressing open mouthed kisses into the flesh of your exposed breast. Dazai sucked a bruise into it lovingly and you moaned out softly, his tongue lapping around your nipple. A small groan escaped him when you dug your fingers into his back, his fingers sliding through the wetness of the inside of your panties. They brushed against your clit and into your heat with acuteness and you couldn’t help the loud gasp you let out.

“My my, aren’t we loud in bed?” He teased as he pulled away from your breast to tend to the other one, the sensation of his mouth and fingers making you see stars. “You precious thing– so quiet at the agency but when I do this...” He plunged a second finger in, emitting another loud whine from you, “You go crazy.”

You quivered under his touch as he curled his fingers into you, in and out, and you watched him bow down to kiss at your clit, promptly pulling your shorts and panties down in one fell swoop. He licked a fat stripe up the entirety of your cunt next to his fingers, savoring the way you tasted on his tongue with a grunt.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy now.” Dazai moaned out into you as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and you felt the bed shake slightly and your hands gripped his hair as you looked down. He was grinding against the edge of the mattress now and honestly, you thought you were about to die right then and there; he was so fucking turned on by you that he needed the friction, any friction, and you felt another wave of arousal shoot up your spine.

Your eyes squeezed shut as Dazai rubbed gently against your sweet spot and your head fell back onto the pillows, your back arching into the delicious feeling. He moved back up onto you, his chin wet with your arousal and he wiped it off against his forearm as he bent down to cover you in hickeys.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked in earnest and you nodded with a pitch to your breath; he was incessantly rubbing at the soft spot now, like he was desperate to make you cum for the first time with someone.

“D-Dazai-san, please…” You whimpered out, clutching onto the base of his hip and he immediately realized what you wanted. You wanted him.

“Ready now, my dear?” Dazai made eye contact with you as he leaned back and you swooned as he pulled out his fingers, your slick dripping down them. He parted your legs with his knees, wedging himself between you as he palmed at his clothed cock. “Just can’t wait, can you?”

He pulled himself out of his sweats, stroking his length a few times as you ogled at him. He was big, much bigger than you expected and you nearly drooled out of habit. Dazai positioned himself against your entrance, resting his one hand on your waist as the other guided his cock into you, inch by inch. There was a hint of pain, the pressure surrounding your middle and you closed your eyes tightly. It went away as he stopped stretching you open instantly, searching your face for any more discomfort.

“Are you okay?” Dazai breathed out, peppering little kisses wherever he could reach to lull the pain. His hips jolted a bit as you squirmed against him, but he stayed still to let you adjust. His free hand came to caress your cheek, thumbing it softly as he made sure you weren’t in too much pain. “If it hurts too much, we can stop-”

“K-Keep going.” You wrapped your legs around him, letting him bury himself into you deeper and you both choked on a quiet whimper as he fully bottomed out. Dazai groaned out quietly as you got used to his cock splitting you nearly in two. You felt so full, the twitch of his dick nearly made you cry out in ecstasy. “You can move…”

Dazai nodded into your skin, pulling out of you halfway, then rolling his hips back into you at a slow place. You gripped onto his back again, the bandages slipping loose as he started to fuck into you earnestly and you couldn’t hold back the whimpers that flew out of your mouth. Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth was agape from how good he felt and soft little ahs- filled the once silent air.

“God, so t-tight around me.” He stuttered out with a whine to his voice, rocking into you sensually as you became overwhelmed by such a throbbing feeling, sucking in a sharp breath. You felt the heat spreading underneath your skin, his cock hitting just right against your walls and you couldn’t help but arch your back up into him, your hips moving against his. The building pleasure spread like a wildfire and your thighs trembled, it wasn’t enough– you needed more.

“D-Dazai– Osamu!” You cried out as he nipped at the bud of your nipple harshly and he hummed, glancing up at you. His eyes were like the black of night, nearly enveloped in the drunk feeling and as you clenched around him hard while he languidly thrusted his hips, they squeezed shut and he panted out a few curses.

“Shit, shit, fuck you feel so good...” He gasped out, pounding into you harder now and you felt your orgasm in the pit of your tummy. His fingers traced back to your clit, teasing it with each stroke of his cock and you writhed against him as your release hit you hard, stars imprinting on the back of your eyelids. You moaned out his name, pressing yourself further onto his dick as your walls fluttered around him and you barely heard his groan as he pulled out of you quickly. His hips stuttered and he spurted all over your tummy and chest with a broken moan, fucking into his hand until he came down from his high.

“How was it, darling?” Dazai asked, out of breath as he pressed a kiss on your forehead. He wiped off his cum with some of his loose bandages and you vaguely understood you were going to have to restart your previous wrapping as you watched him. “Everything you imagined?”

You didn’t answer him, too embarrassed by your moans from earlier. He hummed softly in your ear, planting a kiss behind it as you sat up in his arms. “You sounded like an angel, if that’s what you’re embarrassed about.”

“How did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

“You think I don’t know you? You’ve always been shy, especially around me. And when you have such wanton moans…” He laughed to himself, helping put your clothes back on lovingly. “No, seriously don’t be embarrassed, you almost made me go feral.”

You shivered as he moved to the other side of the bed, playing back the moment in your head and your cheeks blushed red again. And Dazai, of course, noticed and teased you for it. “Still flustered?”

That gap that had distanced the both of you silently closed as you grasped onto the feeling he gave you. You didn’t have to tell him how you felt, he knew. And he didn’t have to go out of his way to make a move when he already has. Everything was now perfect, the frost melting within the snowtops of the trees.

“Come cuddle with me, Y/N. It’s cold outside and I wanna warm you up.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

#𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 •┈••✦#𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 ✧#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs #dazaibsd #dazai x y/n #dazai smut #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x fem reader #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x you #fem reader #𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 ✰

603 notes · View notes

ajortga · 4 months

Text

i forgive you.

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

based off a request! i feel like when i write angst i don't feel my stomach stir when i reread mine, but i feel it when i read others. so i don't know if my angst just doesn't have that spark that i hope it did? do you guys feel it when you read this? 😭

hope that this met what you wanted!

i was thinking of an angst with jenna x femreader? it could be when jenna has been overworked, comes home with reader preparing her something bc she misses her terribly, jenna pouring out her anger into her?

ending is entirely up to you, bad or good, idm!! as always, take your time fav author💕

Music blasted through your headphones as you swept the floor, throwing pillows on top of the couch perfectly.

You missed your girlfriend. You missed Jenna.

She was filming, not too far from you, an hour or two, but even though she wasn’t too far, you couldn’t come on set when they filmed. There were days she would come home exhausted.

Everyday you missed her, you missed her hugs, her kisses. You missed baking with her and falling asleep on her chest almost every night.

Jenna always had time for you, even as an actress, you knew it too that she loved you from the moon and back.

But her schedules were busy with upcoming movies around this time, you barely got to talk to her as much, let alone even see her. There were sleepless nights when Jenna wouldn’t burst into the apartment with you running into her arms.

You were drained at the end of most days, not being able to have the warm blanket that can’t compare to no other, Jenna. And as much as you’d long to tell her, you just couldn’t. You didn’t want her to see you as someone just as stressful as her work.

So all you could do was wait, you felt like if you somehow had your headphones on everyday, she’d have them on one of the times you wore them. It made you feel a little better, at least you might be doing something together. There were endless crumpled pieces in your personal room with smeared ink on them. Each of them you wrote when you missed her. You think you wrote at least one every day the moon passed your city and dawn broke. Your writing somehow never faltered, even when you were writing about the same thing every single time.

The endless poetic letters and writings crumbled in the palm of your hand, scattered in a box standing in front of your desk. You couldn’t help it. You felt sad. And the thing was, the only thing that made you happy was the one thing you can’t get at the end of the day without waiting.

The sun peeked through the curtains corner, the orange yellow brightness beginning to set.

Your legs kicked up and down, opening the Amazon package you ordered a few days prior, unboxing it and taking out the bubble wrap that crunched and popped as you unwrapped it. Your eyes laid upon the heart framed picture of you in Jenna’s arms. Your fingertips lightly switched on the button as the edges of the heart lit up one by one until it shone a bright pink in the midst of your dim lit apartment.

You felt your lips curve into a smile and your heart squeeze, hugging the frame. It’ll all be over soon. When it’s over, you’ll be in the embrace of your sweet Jenna.

In the meantime, you made some red velvet cookies, something you did whenever you were a little sad or stressed.

As they came out of the oven, the cookie dough lifted from the heat and you shaped it in a perfect circle. Then, you piped your cream cheese frosting on the top and sprinkled the leftover red velvet cookie crumbs on top. It was something that always made you happy. Because somehow red velvet was always made when you weren’t.

A red plate was placed on the coffee table along with pretty flowers in a vase, seven of your heart-shaped red velvet cookies placed on it. The 8th and 9th? You may have eaten them to cure missing your girlfriend’s warm hugs.

The sun begins to fade as you hear the lock of your apartment click.

Your ears perk up, and so does your dog, Mabel’s. You immediately turn your head as you slowly lift from the couch, your dog seeming to get the hint as he barks playfully. Jenna.

Jenna.

And the door opens as you squeak out your girlfriend’s name happily, seeing her small figure standing at the door as you immediately run up to her. Jenna giggles, her body a bit tense and loosening as you hug her, her arms wrapping around you.

“Hi baby,” she says, a little bit of tiredness staining in her voice as you hug her and don’t want to let go.

“You’re home.” You whisper, tears almost brimming in your eyes from the happiness.

She pulls away, giving a hesitant smile as she kisses your forehead lightly, “Mhm. I missed you.” She yawned.

“I missed you so much.” You murmur, “I really hated not seeing you every morning.”

There's something in her eye, but you don’t know what. Stress? Relief? Annoyance? Drowsiness?

“I have so much work to do,” she states plainly, rubbing your back, “I have to answer so many emails and talk with some companies that want to do advertisements. So much is on my plate.”

You didn’t want to say the way your heart slowly dropped. You didn’t expect your girlfriend that you missed dearly for months to come back and just expect to do work and not spend time with someone that has been waiting.

You look at her, sweeping the bangs out of her face.

“How about we wind down? You should take a break. Maybe we should bake while listening to the playlist we made together? Spend time with each other? A movie?”

“I’m tired.”

“I think we should just-”

“No.”

“But-”

Then, her fist suddenly slams into the wooden table, making your dog and you flinch from the loudness as she screams at you.

“God! Do you ever know when to just fucking shut up? Can I just go to bed instead of having a burden on my shoulders? I came back so I could rest. Can I just fucking sleep without having you bother me like you always do? I’m already tired! Can’t you just respect that? Gosh Y/N, you are so fucking annoying!”

It was like an ignition of fireworks. But not the joy when you see the pretty colors, it's the frightening experience when you first hear the loud burst.

As soon as the words that she didn’t mean flowed out of her mouth, she shut it, immediately regretting what she said as she saw the way your happiness began to be shattered. You stood there, and Jenna just felt like she tortured a puppy. She felt her stomach fill with a drowning guilt as it seemed as tears were drowning in your eyes. Her eyes were wild and she soon realized, What the hell am I doing? She knew how much you missed her, she knew it by heart that you missed her day and night. Why did she just yell at you for you just missing someone you loved? She didn’t mean it. The brunette didn’t even know why she said that.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” You whispered, tears glazing your eyes as your body quivered, your voice cracked as you could barely whisper once again, “I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t even make eye contact with her as you looked down to the floor, quickly trying to claw away the tears that began to fall down your cheeks and glisten against the light above you two. It felt like the light wasn’t even there, you felt like the whole world around you began to crumble into a void.

You felt sick, traumatized, stabbed into the heart till blood forever took your life as Jenna couldn’t help but just stand there. God you felt like such a fool for all of these love letters. All of these letters you wrote, longing for Jenna to come home to fill the part of her that was empty from her absence in your heart. But you didn’t expect to feel your heart tear more.

“Y/N… I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what came over-”

“D-don’t come near me.”

She got out of the chair, approaching you, her face looking guilty as she brought her arms to hug you, apologies coming out of her mouth. But you didn’t feel the comfort. You didn’t want to be hugged. All you wanted was to get away, you wanted to get away from someone you never wanted to get away from. You immediately stumbled away from her embrace as you cried, running into the walls of the hallway as you crashed into a small drawer, making a small quiet yelp but still running and immediately shut your room when your figure got in, Mabel following you. She heard glass break into pieces, her eyes tracing to the floor where the counter you bumped into laid, your heart frame you placed gently on there broken. She had never seen that before. You must’ve gotten it when she was gone.

“No..” She whispers to herself, voice shaky, feeling guilty already as she bends down to it and sees the photo of you two hugging each other as you look at the camera with happy faces, her arms wrapped around you. The framed photo was broken, a crack in between the middle that now separated you two. A small static buzz sounding as the pink lighted up frame begins to dim, losing its light.

(the picture of you two)

She couldn’t help but think of it as a sign. Could this all be over?

Could it all be over because of words that she never meant or could ever take back?

Jenna didn’t feel good, she felt ashamed of her behavior, now noticing all the things she didn’t notice before. Roses on the table, red velvet cookies with a letter on the right, the way the apartment was perfectly tidy. She looked at the hallway, your room shut.

30 minutes.

That’s how much time your girlfriend gave you before she walked over to your room, seeing Mabel growl at her as her fingertips ghosted your door knob. A frown appeared on her face as she looked down, the puppy always barking playfully at her and licking her face whenever she came home. Now his eyes glared into her, almost like he was guarding the door.

She could tell the way the puppy was warning her, almost like he knew the instant change of mood in you as he chased after you and licked your face as you cried.

“Not you too,” she mumbled, bending down, Mabel backing away, “I already feel bad, I don’t want you to not like me too.”

Jenna scratched his ears as he nipped her finger lightly and bared his teeth, almost like saying, “Don’t you dare hurt her like that again.”

A sigh escaped her mouth as she picked him up and opened your door, peeking in. She looked around, the first view she could see were your crumpled letters littering in a box as she crept in and took one, unfolding it.

all reminds me of you.

every aspect of the universe, like the moon and sun.

the way the sun kisses your freckled skin.

the moon cannot shine without the sun.

just like when you’re here, all the rain has been done.

the moon loves the sun.

the way the sun comforts it during the night with its warmth.

in this universe too,

i know we’ll get through,

because i know that i love you.

-y/n

There were too many to count. So much poetry, like your mind was filled with her because you missed her. You loved her so terribly that when she wasn’t here, a part of you wasn’t there either.

“Y/N?”

No response, she sniffled, placing Mabel onto your bed as she looked around. Then she heard it. A small cry, her head immediately turning to your bathroom that was half open.

“Y/N?” she repeats again, coming closer as she opens the door, being greeted with the sight of your body slumped over on the toilet, hicupping on cries as she hears you gagging and puking. You were emptying the contents of your stomach, let alone the red velvet cookies you had before.

You looked so scared.

Anyone would feel heartbroken if they saw a sweet girl like you looking like this.

“Sweetheart,” Jena kneeled next to you worriedly, lifting up your hair as you coughed, back arching uncomfortably as she rubbed your shaking body.

Hiccups kept coming as you kept having the need to throw up. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much anxiety and stress, you just wanted it to stop as your shaking body coughed into the toilet.

Your coughing died down a little, still weak as you manage to croak out a small, “I’m sorry I-I’m annoying. I’m really t-trying not to..”

Jenna felt her heart shattered as she rubbed circles on your back, stroking your hair. Feeling terrible. She didn’t mean it.

She never meant it.

You looked tired, afraid, now realizing you didn’t look as happy as you once did when she was by your side.

Taking out her anger on someone she loved most.

“Baby no, I’m sorry I hurt you. I know how much you wanted to see me but work got a hold of me and everything was just so stressful. I didn’t mean anything I said, I don’t know why I said that. I’ve just taken all my stress that has been coming from filming on someone I loved and I shouldn’t have done that. It’s no excuse, but I promise you’re not a burden, or annoying, or anything. You’re perfect, and I love you. I’m sorry. There's no reason for you to apologize.”

It seems your coughs had stopped, backing away from the toilet as your shoulders hit the wall.

“I’m here. I love you. I love you too much. I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispers into the shell of your ear, her warm breath slightly comforting you as she cradles you lovingly. She rubs your back and flushes the toilet, picking you up into her arms while you curl your body into her.

Her lips kiss your temple, wiping the tears she knew she caused, her warm hands caressing your cheeks. Jenna carefully places you down into bed, crawling in bed next to you as she spoons you. You turn around, immediately softening into her hug. Your sniffling red nose nestling into her neck.

Her eyes gaze at you, wondering how she could possibly yell at you. You looked so small in her arms while you let out quiet hiccuping cries.

“Shh.. Beautiful girl, I’m here, don’t cry, I won’t ever do that again. Pinky promise.”

Comfort.

Was the first thing you felt as her hand scratched your scalp, playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. Her fingers soothed your wails, stroking your hair so gently.

Your muscles untense, your cheeks no longer so puffy.

Love.

Was the second thing you felt as Jenna’s lips pressed against your forehead over and over. Her nose nudged into yours and your hands intertwined. You felt loved. You feel the love you felt when you first laid eyes on Jenna as her warm body snuggles you. Your legs are laced together as you feel your heartbeat slow, finding serenity as you can hear the way Jenna’s peaceful heart thumps into your ears softly.

Your eyes close, you feel yourself falling asleep, Jenna can feel it too. Her fingertips stroke your hair, her lips kissing your cheek.

Forgiveness

Was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep as your head nodded off, finding the soothing comfort in the fluffy, warm duvets, and finding even more comfort in your girlfriend.

“I forgive you,” your heart says, “When it comes to you, I always forgive you. I can’t ever bring myself to not love you. I love you just like the moon loves the sun. I love you even more than myself.”

I love you more than one heart can ever love.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader

343 notes · View notes

lets-just-daydream · 8 months

Note

PLS only if you want to but i have been searching the web infinitely for a fic where astarion has a nightmare about tav being taken/injured/turned by cazador, and when he wakes up he can't find her. your writing is so beautiful ik you would do this justice omg ty in advance if you decide to do this

AS IF YOU COULD SEND ME THIS AND I WOULDN'T WRITE IT ANON

Your body ached as you hunched over the cold, damp floor. The shackles dug into your wrists as you looked around helplessly, hoping for something, anything to happen. On one hand you wanted to get out of here and you knew only one person would be able to help. But on the other, you knew being saved was a death wish for your saviour. For Astarion.

I mean, you two weren't really a thing or anything but you'd had some late night trysts and had become close friends since then. Well, you had feelings for him but you were quite certain he didn't see you in that way. Why would he? He was the cool, sexy, aloof vampire that had shut the world out. But you did hope he cared about your friendship enough to come save you.

You looked around at the suspended vampire spawn, clearly in pain and with no reprieve visible. How did you get into this mess in the first place? You weren't sure.

"I'm almost disappointed in that pathetic boy. I thought he would come for you," a grating voice said, pulling you out of your thoughts. "But, I'm not surprised."

You turned to look up at Cazador, his red eyes shining in the dim candlelight. He bared his fangs in an unhinged smile as he knelt next to you. "No matter. You will take his place."

You were used to the feeling of fangs piercing your neck, you'd let Astarion feed on you many times and you had learned to enjoy the sensation. But as Cazador drunk you dry, you felt burning cold and pain flood your entire body. You began to scream and writhe as he took deep, sloppy gulps, your fists weakly crashing against him to no avail. A tear rolled down your cheek as you felt your life force slipping away, a blurry vision of a white-haired pale elf entering your mind before your eyes closed permanently.

Astarion woke with a hoarse scream, sitting up in his tent and looking around. His body was tense and coated in a sheen of sweat and little half moons had imprinted in his palms where he had been clenching his hands in his sleep.

He didn't care about his physical state. His mind was on you. Was that a dream? Was it a vision of the future? Was Cazador showing him a play-by-play of what was happening right now? How could Cazador possibly know about his feelings for you? He kept them so well-hidden and hadn't even confessed to you that he… loved you.

At the thought that maybe Cazador did have you in his clutches and was sending Astarion a warning, he sprung up from his bedroll and to his feet, not bothering with a shirt as he stumbled out of his tent. His eyes locked onto your tent and he rushed over, nearly tripping over his own feet in his panic. His head was thundering and he knew if his heart could still beat, it would be beating out of his chest.

He called your name softly as he approached, pulling back the entry flap, looking for your sleeping form. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw you weren't there. It was the dead of night! Where were you? Did Cazador take you? Why? Wouldn't he just take Astarion instead?

His mind was racing as he started to hyperventilate, his body shaking. He had to go find you. Curse him and the feelings he had developed. Of course Cazador would take advantage of that, he couldn't believe he let himself be so stupid. If he had never gotten involved with you, you'd still be safe.

Astarion shook his head. Now wasn't the time for 'should haves.' He turned and exited your tent, coming to a stop as he gasped. You stood in front of him, squinty eyed and confused.

"Astarion?" You asked sleepily. "What are you doing here?"

He said nothing, only gaping at your uninjured form before letting out a shuddered sigh of relief. You stared at him, confused as to why he was having a freakout in your tent. Before you could ask him what had just happened, he leaned forward and wrapped you in a crushing hug. He had never felt such intense relief in all his long life. He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed; you still smelled like you - no scent of any other vampires on you.

"Gods, you're okay," he whispered. He pulled back and glared at you. "Where the hells were you?! I was worried sick."

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Not that it's any of your business, Astarion. But nature called."

He scoffed and mumbled something about 'humans and their annoying necessities.'

You weren't sure where this shitty mood was coming from so you pulled out of his arms and took a step back. You tried peering at his face to read his expression but the moonlight was limited and the campfire had gone out.

"What happened?" You asked.

Astarion looked a bit sheepish as he glanced left and right, making sure none of your other companions had left their tents. You sighed and stepped into your own tent, waving him in so you could have the extra privacy. You could tell something was on his mind that he wanted to talk about which was rare - you often had to prod him further before he would open up.

You sat cross-legged on your rolls and furs and Astarion joined you, mirroring your position. Neither of you spoke for a minute before Astarion sighed and looked up at you. "I… I had a nightmare."

"Oh, that's awful," your heart squeezed for him and you wanted to reach out and comfort him.

He'd mentioned a couple of nightmares to you previously, how they always manifested his absolute worst fears; Cazador capturing him and sacrificing him, Cazador burying him in a burning coffin as he tried to dig his way out. One of the saddest he had told you about was one where Cazador plucked him from your camp in the dead of night and Astarion had to watch as you and your merry group continued on like nothing was amiss. So, you had an idea that he'd had another awful dream about being kidnapped by Cazador.

"I'm here to listen if you'd like to talk about it," you said, deciding to reach for his hand and holding it.

Astarion looked down at your joined hands and couldn't help the slight flush to his face as he felt your warm, soft hand on his.

"This one…" He began with an inward hiss. "Was the worst nightmare I've ever had."

Astarion shuddered and you could have sworn he was on the verge of tears. You rubbed soft circles with your thumb into his skin.

"It felt so real and when I woke up, I was convinced it was real… especially when I thought you were gone."

Your brows furrowed in concern. "What happened?" You asked softly.

Astarion pressed his lips into a thin line. Telling you about this nightmare now was more-or-less a confession of how much he truly cared for you at this point. But he needed you to know. He wanted to tell you just how much his dead heart yearned for you, lusted after you and would beat for you if it could.

"I dreamt that Cazador had taken you," Astarion whispered, his gaze down and fixed on your hands.

"Me?" You whispered back, confused.

He nodded. "He had taken you to lure me back to the palace. He knew I'd come for you and when I failed to come save you he…" Astarion faltered before looking into your eyes. You hadn't noticed he'd started crying. "He killed you. Turned you into a vampire spawn to take my place."

Your heart shattered and you let out a gasp. This was the worst dream he had ever had? You dropped Astarion's hand and at the loss of the warmth and contact, he looked away in shame. He had overstepped. He had been so stupid to fall for you, of course you were disgusted he was having such horrible dreams about you. He moved to stand and excuse himself when you'd crawled across and sat in his lap, your legs straddling his.

"Oh, Astarion," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around him in a soft embrace. "I'm so sorry you had such an awful nightmare."

Astarion could hardly believe it. You were in his lap. Comforting him with a warm embrace he was certain he would never feel in his lifetime. He blinked in surprise and then breathed a sigh of relief before he wrapped his arms around you in turn and rested his face in the crook of your neck. He didn't want to feed, he just wanted to feel you, smell you. Hold you in place so you could never leave. So Cazador could never take you away from him.

"My love," Astarion whispered into your skin. "I'll never let anyone take you from me."

You pulled back, your arms still around your vampire love as you gazed into his watery eyes. "And I will never leave your side."

At your words, Astarion let a small and sincere smile grace his features. His eyes flicked down to your lips before shooting back to your eyes. You parted your lips slightly and he licked his lips and slowly leaned forward, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to yours in a gentle and loving kiss. You smiled into him and returned the kiss, a soft sigh escaping you as you separated. His lips were so soft, his moves so smooth and practiced. You could could kiss him forever and you almost leaned back in for another.

Astarion let out a soft laugh and nuzzled into your hair again, hiding the blush and smitten look on his face from you. You giggled in turn and could have sworn you heard a very soft and very muffled proclamation of three little words from him but when you asked him to repeat himself, he only laughed and kissed your neck instead.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #red writes

652 notes · View notes

llamagoddessofficial · 7 months

Text

It was the best hidden room in his castle.

Nightmare appeared, emerging from within the liquid shadows at the far corner, taking on a solid form. The room had no doors- that was the trick to it. Only a being who already knew the room’s location in the castle, and had the ability to transport themselves through space, would be capable of accessing this place.

... Though there was no door, there was a window. Just one. A circular skylight, directly above the bed... it gave a perfect view of the stars.

It was a small, comfortable chamber, the obsidian walls draped with finely embroidered midnight blue tapestries to maintain warmth. Ancient murals, moons and interlocking patterns that had long lost their meaning, inlaid with silver- the silver caught the light from the small glowing blue stones that dotted the walls. The room was barely brighter than a dim twilight.

Of course... the most important thing in the whole room was what was at the centre.

... Nightmare approached your bed.

A fine bed, of course. A large canopy draped luxuriously, for even more warmth, protection and quiet. Only the best for you. You were tucked under sumptuous sheets, your head upon a satin pillow, sweet little face barely visible under all the layers of comfort.

... He reached out, tucking the blanket down slightly, to get a better look at you. You were so peaceful. Your cheeks had regained some colour, over the past few days, as had your lips- but your eyelids did not move.

He knew what it looked like. If his damned brother found this room, and the sleeping human, he’d jump to conclusions (as he always did); Nightmare had stolen a human, cursed them with eternal sleep. Worst case scenario, Nightmare was tormenting this human as a sick game- best case scenario, Nightmare has grown so feverishly attached he would rather have someone sleep in his arms forever than be free to walk away from him.

...

And... well. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t enjoying having you this way. But it was missing one crucial detail.

... You would wake up the moment you wanted to.

He sat on the bed, beside you. He reached out, and gently stroked your hair... enjoying the softness and texture.

You didn’t stir.

Nightmare had felt your pain far across your universe. Like a moth to a flame, he came to you- and though he originally had only the intent to feed, he loved you the moment he laid eyes on you. Your Soul, such a pretty thing, cracking under the weight of its pain; the fractures sparkled like fault lines in a diamond. You were holding the agony within, unwilling to let anyone know. You were on the verge of shattering. On the verge of your Soul going out.

When he came for you, you didn’t protest, you didn't even struggle.

You had looked at him with an empty, accepting expression.

Perhaps you thought he was death? Cute.

... So he took you, instead. You let him put his arms around you- he had never had someone accept him so completely, his jealous desire only intensified. He carried you back to his palace, he cradled you lovingly. Once your eyes had closed, he laid you down in the quietest room, in his finest bed... cuddled under his softest sheets and guarded by his most possessive magic.

The spell in question was one he hadn’t used in a long, long time. There was nothing on any Earth that could forcibly awaken you from your slumber. No sound, no touch, no pain nor magic. No power he (or any other great being) possessed, nothing in the wide multiverse. Nothing could awaken you from the outside.

But... the moment you wanted to open your eyes, you would. The tail of the Rupert’s drop. As if waking from a pleasant midday nap, the spell would shatter into dust around you.

It was a one-way spell. That was what made it so powerful.

... He continued to stroke your hair. Your dreams were safety- he ensured nothing crossed your mind but visions of peace and warmth. You curled deeper into his dreams like a hibernating rabbit. He could sense the injuries in your slowly Soul mending, your wounds slowly healing, as you were finally allowed to rest.

You had yet to even think of opening your eyes.

At that moment, the moon emerged. Its light passed through the skylight window... catching a small array of crystals that hung above your bed. Flecks of iridescence silently scattered across the walls, and over your face.

“... beautiful.” He murmured. “no one will ever hurt you again, my darling. no one. i promise.”

...

... You, of course... did not even stir.

#concept was clacking around in m brain like a marble #llama writes #its one of the kindest things nightmare has ever done #he didn't expect to enjoy being kind so much #might have to indulge himself a little more~

486 notes · View notes

kkami-writes · 7 months

Text

waiting for us — chapter forty six. moonlight cw. brief mention of a fire scar, SMUT!!! first times, loss of virginity (f), protected sex, soft dom(?) seungmin, oral (f), piv, lowkey body worship, seungmin is a simp wbk wc. 3.4k

After a long day, almost 3 hours in the car (with 4 of your soulmates and a blasting playlist) and then walking around the Japanese garden you’re glad to finally be resting in your hotel room. The boys had whined that Seungmin had got to monopolize your attention all day and now got to spend the night with you but you had simply shooed them away, desperate to get into the shower.

Now you were all cozy in a small pajama set, sat curled up on the little ledge next to the window. The lights are dimmed, the room painted in the light of the moon. Seungmin was just finishing up in the bathroom as you wait for him, staring sleepily out at the view outside. You might be $900 down but you couldn’t help but think it was so worth it.

Your eyes glaze over slightly as you space out, the day finally catching up to you as sleep threatens to take over. You don’t even realize that Seungmin has finished his shower or that he’s already come out of the bathroom.

Seungmin on the other hand has frozen completely. He’s watching you, taking in every little detail, like the way your head is tilted against the cool pane of the window or the smooth skin of your legs. The moonlight washes over your figure and he thinks you look so fucking breathtaking. It’s like something possesses him as he strides over to you, hands coming to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, lithe fingers tracing your jawline and forcing you to look up at him.

The way you look up at him has him in a trance, practically drowning in your pretty eyes. He leans down and you meet him half way. Seungmin’s lips are soft against yours and you practically melt against him, body relaxing. He brings his other hand to fully cup your cheeks while his lips move languidly, almost precise in his movements and it’s really no surprise to you that all these boys were good kissers. Years of experience with each other.

Yet you can tell he’s a little tentative to go any further, so you do it for him, tongue darting out to swipe at his plump bottom lip. Except Seungmin pulls away at the feeling of your tongue and for a second you’re afraid you’ve pushed it too far, but the way his face is a bright red you know you only had surprised him. A giggle falls from your lips as you stand up suddenly, surprising the boy but he doesn’t get a chance to question you as as you all but yank his body towards the bed.

Your body flops down onto the bed, sinking into the impossibly soft comforter and Seungmin is forced on top of you. His hands are on either side of your head, eyes blinking rapidly at your actions. Your arms come to wrap around his broad shoulders but you don’t push him down, instead letting him take the lead if he so choses. You tilt your head slightly, giving him a cute wide eyed look - making you look so enticing how the hell is he supposed to resist you? You’re literally under him, lips already slightly puffy and your hair spread out in a halo. Seungmin is convinced you might actually be an angel.

So he takes the plunge, connecting his lips against yours. It starts off simple like your kiss just minutes ago, just lips pressed together and moving in tandem. This time it’s Seungmin who deepens the kiss, not even bothering to ask as he practically shoves his tongue into your mouth. Of course you let him, mouth parting to give him easy access.

He’s sucking on your pink muscle, nipping and pulling at your lips so much that it pulls a whimper from your throat. The embrace turns heated, the sound of your lips smacking is the only thing you can hear. Seungmin can feel his restraint getting weaker and weaker so he has to force himself to stop. Yet the look you have on his face almost makes him groan, lips completely kiss bitten, slick with spit and cheeks flushed a pretty red that goes all the way down to your collarbone. You’re driving him absolutely crazy but he knows he has to stop because he will not be able to control himself the longer you look at him like that.

“We…” He takes a deep breath to calm himself. “We should stop,”

“What if I don’t want to?” You ask so simply as if you don’t understand the insinuation of your answer but the look in your eyes tells Seungmin that you do. He falters.

“But… Aren’t you a-“ You can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“A virgin?” Seungmin just nods his head. “Yeah, but to be honest, I really, really want this,”

“Are you sure? I mean, like, are you sure you want your first time to be with…me?” Again, you roll your eyes.

“Minnie, do I need to go on my rant again?”

“Ok- Ok fuck. Are you 100% sure? Because I don’t think I’d be able to stop once I get my hands on you,”

“I’m sure just,“ You hesitate, but Seungmin is patient, waiting for you to continue. “Just, promise me you wont ask,” He furrows his eyebrows at your words, thoroughly confused.

“Ask about what?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,”

“Is it about…” His eyes dart over to your wrists. Though there are no new scars, most of them having healed already, there is still the visible signs. You shake your head though.

“No. It’s something else just - please,”

“Ok, no questions. I promise,”

“Ok good. Now kiss me again,”

“You got it,” And at that Seungmin is pressing his lips against your already swollen ones, hands slipping past your sleep shirt, fingers dancing along your bare waist. It draws a shiver from you, the feeling of his cold hands against your heated body. His lips begin to trail down to your neck, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses against your flesh. Seungmin has barely done anything to you already feel uncomfortably warm.

Seungmin’s fingers creep further and further up your shirt, pulling it along with him. Before he can fully push it up he glances up at you as if asking permission. You simply nod and he doesn’t hesitate to remove your shirt. Since you were going to bed you had gone without a bra, a sudden shyness takes over you but Seungmin is looking at you like you put the stars in the sky. He can tell that you’re shy and slips his own shirt off so that you’re both shirtless.

You can’t help but stare at his toned upper body. Seungmin is all lean muscle and broad shoulders with somehow a tiny waist. You briefly wonder how someone could be so handsome. He turns shy under your smoldering gaze so he turns back to focus on you.

“Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful,” He says the words in between pressing kisses down the expanse of your neck, before latching onto the juncture of where your neck meets your collarbone, sucking softly. It’s enough to leave a mark, wanting something as proof of this moment, even if it’s temporary (and maybe something that the guys would see).

As he marks up your neck his hands come up to cup your breasts, his large hands giving them a squeeze. Seungmin thinks they’re perfect, fitting in his hands so nicely. He can’t help but squish and grope at the soft mounds, relishing the first time of actually touching a pair of tits. You’ve got your lower lip between your teeth, worrying it as you watch Seungmin’s every action, feeling your panties getting damp.

Seungmin brushes his thumb against your nipples and you finally let out a small moan. It spurs him on as he rolls one between his fingers and it hardens under his ministrations. After he’s quite literally made his mark along your neck and collarbones his lips trail down to press kisses across the peaks of your breasts. His hands have moved down to your waist, running them up and down your sides. It’s like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body, committing it to memory.

His tongue darts out to flick at your pert bud before wrapping his plush lips around it, sucking softly. A whimper slips from your lips, feeling your back arch up and further into his touch. Seungmin loves how reactive you are as he experiments with your tits, nipping at the cute bud before making sure to give equal attention to the other.

At this point you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to press your thighs together for some semblance of relief.

“S-Seung,�� You whine, trying to get him to understand without having to say it. He seems to understand though as a small laugh falls from his lips at your impatience.

“Sorry love, just trying to appreciate your body like you deserve,” You can feel his hum against your skin and it sets you abuzz. His fingers hook into the thin fabric of your sleep shorts before looking back up at you for permission. With a deep breath you nod your head and he doesn’t hesitate to slip them off.

Kisses continue to trail down your silky skin, Seungmin occasionally teasing you by nipping at your sensitive skin. Everything he’s done has only made your body warmer, panties sticking to your cunt. When his nose nudges against your mound you sit up suddenly, startling the poor boy between your legs.

“Shit, wait,” Seungmin is quick to sit back on his heels, looking over at you in concern, scared he’s made you uncomfortable.

“What? We can stop if you want,”

“No, no it’s just- fuck. You don’t have protection do you?” You murmur, remembering probably the most important thing. To be honest you hadn’t expected you to be ready for this so early, so you hadn’t really considered birth control and while you had trusted that all the boys were clean and wouldn’t mind forgoing a condom, you were not about to risk having a crotch goblin. Disappointment washes over you, still rather uncomfortably turned on.

“Oh! Wait no, I do have one,” Seungmin says before grabbing his wallet on the nightstand and pulling a condom from it. You’re blinking at him, having not expecting that.

“Huh. So you thought you were gonna get lucky?” You decide to tease the poor boy, whose face flushes so cutely.

“No! No of course not! I just-“

“Minnie I’m kidding,” You cut him off before he can go on a tangent again, giggling at his reaction. “Honestly, it’s kinda hot that you’re so responsible,” You coo and Seungmin comes back to hover over to you, slapping at your thigh.

“Brat,” That causes another giggle to fall from your lips as he leaves the condom on the table. “Do you want to continue?”

“Mm..please,”

“Hm? What’s that?” It’s Seungmin whose teasing you now, a cocky look on his face and you suppose you should have seen this coming.

“Please…Minnie,” You whine, thighs pressing together but he quickly pushes his hand between them, spreading them.

“Please what? Gotta tell me what you want love,” He hums, moving down to his position himself between your legs, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. Immediately that heat returns full force and you can’t take it anymore.

“Please touch me Seungmin,”

“How can I say no?” He comes to slip your panties off and he freezes. Seungmin can’t even take the time to admire how beautiful you look underneath him, completely bare because all he can focus on is the fire burn across the left side of your pelvis that goes across your hip. The skin is reddish, almost looking like a large bruise. He probably shouldn’t but he can’t help but run his thumb over the old wound and he can feel that pulsing energy. It’s then that he knows.

Your soulmark is under this scar.

Seungmin glances up at you and you can’t even look at him. Hot white shame fills your stomach as you curl up into yourself. Maybe this was a bad idea, you should have never let it get this far, never should have let him see it. You’re about to get up to put your clothes on but before you can even move, Seungmin is pressing kisses against your lower stomach again, large hands splayed across your hips.

“Sorry sweetheart. No questions. Can I still make you feel good?” He still wants to make sure this is what you want, if you told him to stop he would. Your comfort is the only thing on his mind. Seungmin’s kisses bring instant butterflies to your stomach and you can’t lie, you still want this. You want him. You want all of them.

“Please…I. I want you Minnie,”

Seungmin lets out a groan from his throat. Why is you telling him how much you want him turn him on even more?

“Fuck. Be a good girl and let me take care of you, yeah?” Seungmin hums while he’s pressing rather wet kisses against your inner thighs, and a shiver runs through you. He does not want to make it seem like he doesn’t know what he’s doing because he is quite literally just running on pure instincts. His tongue darts out and he doesn’t hesitate to lick a bold stripe up your damp folds. You can’t help but jolt slightly, the sensation completely new as you try to relax back against the pillow.

It’s certainly a different taste but it’s certainly not bad, he can definitely see himself eventually getting addicted. Seungmin continues to explore your cunt, alternating between licks and kisses. He brings his tongue to your clit this time, flicking at the small bud and it has a moan falling from your lips.

“O-Oh!” You gasps, heat starting to pool in your lower stomach the longer Seungmin plays with your clit, his lips wrapped fully around it and sucking. Long fingers run through your damp folds before pressing slowly to your entrance. He sinks a single digit in, letting you get used to it before sliding it in and out. He has to bite back a moan from the way your walls are sucking his finger in, his only thoughts are about how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock.

Of course you’ve masturbated a few times and yeah it was nice but nothing special. This though, this was so different as pure heat and pleasure fills your body, making your toes curl with how intense it is. Seungmin can’t take his eyes off you, every little reaction you make only entrances him more. He slips another finger into your sopping core, your cunt taking it in easily with how turned on you are. There’s more of a stretch but you could care less with how good it feels.

The lewd squelch of your pussy echoes in your ears, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Seungmin on the other hand finds it so hot, how wet and warm you feel. His cock is throbbing almost painfully, pressed fully against his pants. Heat is pooling into your lower stomach, threatening to snap and as you feel yourself on the precipice of your release, Seungmin stops. It pulls a whine from your throat and he has the audacity to chuckle at you.

“Sorry love. I just. I want you to cum with me,” And how are you supposed to argue against that? Seungmin leans over to grab the foil, ripping it open and throwing the wrapper into the trash. He pulls his pants down and his hard, angry cock flops out. The tip is almost a bright red, precum leaking from the slit. He slides the latex down his length before looking back up at you, only to see that you’re staring.

“…stop staring,” Your head flies back up to him, blushing at getting caught.

“Sorry! Sorry just- It’s my…first time seeing a dick,” You admit. Both of you are a flustered mess and even though Seungmin isn’t a virgin, it certainly feels like he is - after all he’s never been with a woman before.

“I mean it’s my first time seeing tits too so…I guess we’re even,” There’s a brief silence before the two of you are giggling. It feels comfortable despite the two of you being stark naked. You two take a moment before getting serious again. Nerves roll off both of you as he clumsily lines up to your soaked entrance.

“Are you ready?” He asks softly, rubbing soothing circles against your waist. With a gulp you nod, bracing yourself. Slowly he pushes in, a moan falling from his lips almost immediately at how you feel, the sensation almost overwhelming.

It’s not painful, it’s more of a weird sensation and some pressure but it’s not bad. As he slides in his body comes to press against yours, almost in a hug, wanting to be as close to you as possible as the two of you become one. It’s so overwhelming in a good way that you can’t help the few tears that slip from your eyes, you feel so incredibly full and loved. Seungmin pauses and glances up at you, thumb wiping away the tears.

“You ok sweetheart? Does it hurt?” You shake your head quickly.

“No! No..You feel so good…feel’s amazing Seung. I. I love you,” You choke up a little and he smiles down at you, so incredibly fond.

“I love you too,” He says as he finally bottoms out, his whole length buried inside of you. The two of you just stay like this for a few minutes, basking in the moment, just being connected in the most intimate way possible. After awhile that feeling is returning in your stomach and you need him to fuck you.

“Seung. Please move,”

“Anything for you sweetheart,” He pulls out almost all the way before rocking back into your cunt, pulling a moan from your lips. It’s so much more than his fingers and you can’t believe anything could feel better. Seungmin moans as he keeps a languid pace and the sound make you clench. His hips stutter. “Fuck, you can’t do that. I might just blow my load,” He knows he won’t last very long anyway though and his only goal is to make you cum.

His grip against your waist is almost bruising now but you could care less, you hope it does. Your back arches and with the slight adjustment his cock is now hitting that sweet spot.

“Oh! Oh fuck Seungmin, right t-there” Seungmin large hands against your waist angle you perfectly so he’s constantly brushing against your g-spot and you swear that you’re seeing stars. One of his hands snakes down to rub at your swollen clit and it’s bringing you closer to your peak. “Minnie ‘m close,” Your words are slightly slurred, losing yourself in the overwhelming pleasure he’s bringing you to.

“M-me too. Fuck sweetheart. God, feel so perfect. You were made for me. Made for us, yeah?” It’s his words that send you off the edge, coming with a cry of his name. With your walls spasming around him he’s spilling into the condom with one last hard thrust. The two of you collapse against each other, a thin layer of sweat covering both of you but neither of you could care.

Both of you end up giggling again, just basking in the after glow of sex as you curl into each other. Again, the two of you just lay there for awhile, staring in each others eyes before Seungmin reluctantly pulls away.

“Come on, let’s take another shower and get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow,”

Seungmin is nothing but attentive to you in the shower, cleaning you up gently. You feel a little sore but it’s a rather nice feeling so you certainly don’t mind. Nothing more happens in the shower besides a few kisses here and there.

Soon enough the two of you are tangled up in each other in bed, legs entwined and your face buried into his neck. You have never felt more safe and loved then being in Seungmin’s arms right now. You never wanted to leave and you don’t ever plan on it.

previous | masterlist | next waiting for us taglist (50/50) send an ask or sign up here!: @abbiestearsricochet @boo-ven9eance @adorawritesalot @melleus @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05 @borahae-reads @zonked-times @yoonrimin @slay-and-gay @loverlixie @katsukis1wife @0325tiny @adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @lillithathecat @everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @popcatx0 @stayinhellevator @jaiuneamesolitaiire @enchantedgrunge @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @xrvrqs @lynlyndoll @txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @vampcharxter @surefornext @puppy-minnie @freckleboilix @turtledove824 @fylithia @toshijimafarms @hyunestrella @blackrowses @chlodavids @reallysparklychaos @sunnibearr @chili-crab0811 @stickycrusadecollective @lucidliving1205 @princelingperfect @leemidnightmoon a/n. THIS ONE GOES OUT TO ALL THE SEUNGMIN GIRLS, GUYS AND NON-BINARY PALS (it's me. i'm the seungmin girly. I did it for me). Look idk when or why I decided it was gonna be minnie but I have no regrets. everyone is all about hard dom/mean dom seungmin (which i love don't get me wrong) but there's something about sweet gentleman seungmin who wants to make your first time special, paying so much attention to you and making you feel good. soft sweet first time sex under the moonlight. FUN first time sex where you can laugh about how lowkey awkward it is and still have an amazing time. listen, if you can't laugh while having sex with the person you're fucking, you're not fucking the right person. GIGGLY SEX >>>> UGH. ME FUCKING WHEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

556 notes · View notes