#❛ WHY WALK TOWARDS THE LIGHT WHEN YOU CAN STAY IN THE DARK ❜ ❅ verse.

[gyuzoh]

“풀어 POUR UP” KIM MINGYU—°

summary: bartender kim mingyu, who you have the undeniable hots for— denies your advances due to your promiscuous reputation as seoul’s newest and upcoming hottest female dj.

therefore you make it a mission to prove your god-sculpted eye candy, wrong.

playlist: pour up (dean), you know (jay park, okasian), 2nd thots (jay park), freak like me (camo), btbt (b.i)

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex.

previous or next

chapter three.

you wake up to the sound of a running shower, the air smelling of a husky cologne. as you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, they scan the unfamiliar room. it belonged to a guy for sure.

looking down at the dark grey bed sheets, you notice you’re wearing a hoodie that you don’t own, and possibly wouldn’t ever be able to afford. dior.

last nights memories were failing to come to mind in this moment, and the thought of you in an unknown man’s room made your head hurt.

you glance down and notice the dress you had worn to the party last night was scattered on the ground of the bedroom, along with your heels, leaving you essentially half naked under this hoodie you’re now clad in.

thoughts were racking your brain, making up possible scenarios as to why you’ve awoken alone in a strangers queen sized bed, did you sleep with him? how much did you actually drink last night to not be able to remember it?

you felt scared at the endless possibilities, not knowing what happened or who with, your heart fell to your stomach. shit, fuck, fuck.

you ruffle your hair in frustration, unsure of who to expect to walk out that bathroom only a few meters away from you. you’d never had a one night stand before, are you supposed to stay? do you leave secretly when they’re unknowing?

before you could make the decision of leaving, the door to the bathroom opens, and the first thing you notice as the man emerges from the room is the incredibly large chest and sculpted bicep muscles to match. “oh, you’re awake.”

you glance up from the wet body, eyes widening at the realisation of who’s house you were at. kim mingyu.

at this point, your mouth was agape from the shock of the situation. you were basically half naked in the room of the man you were practically a dog for. yet you felt safe.

“did we sleep together?” the question blurted from your lips before you even had time to think about what you wanted to say, to which mingyu responded with a hum of agreement.

he walks towards the closet which stood opposite of the bed, the water droplets dripping off his back made you gulp. this man was gorgeous.

“well i mean, you didn’t let me sleep on the couch.” the disappointment was real, though you were also glad you had some sort of self respect.

mingyu grabs a white tee from the closet and throws it over his head, now covering his godly body, the towel that was around his shoulders now drying his hair.

he notices how your eyes were scanning his body, and he lets out a little chuckle at your obviousness, which made your cheeks turn a light shade of pink at the embarrassment of being caught.

“how are you feeling?” he asks you, sitting on the edge of the bed making it dip from his weight.

“i’m feeling okay, but i don’t remember anything past the halfway of my set.”

mingyu nods his head in understanding, unsure of whether to tell you about what happened last night, ultimately deciding it was better to tell you than to leave you in the dark.

“someone put something in one of your drinks,” he begins, twirling his thumbs and observing your bare face that he struggled to wipe with the makeup wipes he bought after he laid you down in his bed.

your mouth opens and lets out a quiet ‘ahh’, nodding your head and looking down. how stupid could you be to be accepting drinks from intoxicated strangers, the thought of not making it home safe, or to even be alive made you shiver.

“i took you here after seeing you fighting with your ex boyfriend, he said he didn’t do it, but you can never be too safe.”

you shake your head no, taehyung was a douche bag for sure, but he’d never put your safety on the line. you were somewhat thankful that man had morals. “thank you, for taking me here.”

mingyu smiles, “no problem,” getting up from the bed and walking out the room to get you a glass of water. but you still had one question for the man.

“why am i not in my own clothes?” he stops at the door and looks back at you, stifling laughter that was music to your ears.

“you kept complaining and asked me to change you.” he leaves.

once hearing those words, scenes started flashing in your head— the way you whined until the male unlaced your dress, his hands grazing your bare back and waist, looping the hoodie you currently wore over your head.

you groan in embarrassment, cheeks tinging pink again as you put your head in your hands. this man has seen your body that not even your ex boyfriend had been able to.

then it hits you, this man took you to his home, dressed you, taken off your makeup, slept in the same bed as you, all the while he had a girlfriend. somi.

the guilt was evident, sure you disliked the woman but you’d never homewreck a relationship, not after knowing the pain of being cheated on.

mingyu comes back into the bedroom, handing you a small glass of water and beckons you to drink it. you drink the clear liquid and hand it back to him once you’re done.

his large hands place the cup on the bedside table and he hands you your now charged phone, which was left with a few dozen calls from your little brother, messages reading concern of where you were and why you weren’t home.

“i should probably, uh, head home,” you say quietly, messaging heeseung that you’d be home within the hour and that you’re safe.

mingyu hums in response and starts to pick up your clothing on the ground and placing it in a paper bag for you to take home, then grabbing a pair of grey sweats from his closet, chucking it toward you. “it’s cold out today, wear these pants.”

you slowly get out of his warm bed, slipping on the sweats he handed to you, with hopes he doesn’t see anything you didn’t want him to.

though he had basically seen all of you last night due to your intoxicated, clingy state.

“i’ll take you home.”

the ride home was comfortable, music playing as you guys shared small talk. you’ve arrived at your apartment, mingyu walking you to the door as he carried your bag and clothes in his hand.

your hand reaches out to unlock the door, but it opens up wide before you could even jingle your keys. “where the hell have you been?”

you finally remember how you had told your worried sibling that you’d be home by 3am, and how you’d definitely be safe.

heeseung stands before you, his hair a mess due to waiting for you the entire afternoon.

“i was out-“ heeseung cuts you off before you could finish your sentence, pulling you into a hug and releasing a quick sigh of relief.

mingyu stands there watching the two of you, but he wasn’t exactly as relieved as heeseung was. not with knowing the events that took place last night, if you were his girlfriend, you’d never been allowed to go to a party unaccompanied.

“you just let your girlfriend go to a party all alone? do you even know what happened? do you even care she’s come home in another man’s clothes?”

both you and your brother pull apart from eachother, the dots slowly, but finally connecting for the two of you. so that’s what he meant by boyfriend.

“this is my sister, you idiot.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, looking at the two of you properly for the first time since he had met youse that night two weeks ago.

you nudge heeseung, scolding him for being rude to an elder.

mingyu finally notices the resemblance between you and heeseung, the high nose bridges and the plump lips you had both received from your mother. “did something happen last night? are you okay?”

you shake your head no and smile at heeseung, not wanting him to know you’d been almost admitted to the ER if not for mingyu. and more or less, taehyung.

pushing heeseung inside, you take ahold of your things from mingyu, grabbing your phone and opening instagram— handing the phone to mingyu in attempt to get his username.

he raises an eyebrow and gives you a slight smirk, his hand reaching out to grab your phone. “just so i can return your hoodie.” excuses blurted out of your mouth, anyone would know you just really wanted his instagram.

“you can just keep it, no?”

achieving mingyu’s instagram was finally a success, as well as somewhat proving to him you weren’t just some cougar. on top of that, you got a free, expensive hoodie that smelled of his cologne, leaving you kicking your feet in the air.

you’re laid on the bed of your room, finally opening messages from worried friends, noticing a few texts from wonwoo, a ‘call me when you see this’, catching your eye. so you do just that.

the dial tone rings once, and his deep voice answers almost immediately, worry evident in his tone, “hey, how are you? did mingyu get you home safe?”

you were being bombarded with questions from the concerned male, which made you smile.

“hey wonwoo, i’m feeling good, i’m sorry if i worried you or soonyoung last night, i don’t really remember anything.” wonwoo tells you not to worry, and that he’s just glad you’re home safe.

the two of you exchange a few more words, laughing at the small talk. “i feel bad you went through that, can i take you out for dinner to make it up to you atleast? i’m the one who invited you in the first place”

wonwoo was too sweet of a person to you, and it made your heart clench. you respond to him with a hum of agreement, “yeah, i’m free whenever you’re free.” how could you deny a free dinner?

“sweet, i’ll pick you up friday evening?”

mingyu sat engulfed in his own thoughts on the ride home, drowning in embarrassment. that was her damn brother, mingyu. he was so caught up in listening to those rumours of you, he couldn’t even notice the obvious.

mingyu arrives back at his shared apartment, as he’s about to unlock the front door, he’s stopped by arms snaking around his waist, the strong scent of perfume overtaking his nose.

somi stood behind him, head leaning against his toned back. “i missed you.”

the male sighs at the girl wrapped around his body, hesitant to reciprocate after the events of last night.

he had known somi was overprotective of him, but the disappointment he had felt in her with the nonchalance to you being in a dire situation, had him feeling uneasy around somi.

last night had opened mingyu’s eyes, it felt as if though the woman standing right there wasn’t the same sweet, innocent somi he had developed feelings for years ago. though, that may be his own fault.

somi could feel mingyu wasn’t feeling up to her shenanigans, though her predictions of why weren’t exactly on point. “did you sleep with her too?”

mingyu shakes his head no and removes her hold from him, turning to face her with a solemn expression.

“no, we didn’t sleep together,” he explains, “but i don’t know why it matters to you whether i did or not.”

the female sighs, “because you like me.” her reasoning made mingyu seethe with frustration, a hand reaches up to his face as he pinches his forehead. sigh escaping from his thin lips, biting them.

“because i like you? are you okay in the head?” at this point mingyu has had enough, he was tired of playing games with somi, always running to her when she called at late hours of the night, intimacy together only when it suits her own personal needs.

he was tired of being treated like a second choice.

“what’s wrong with that reasoning? am i wrong?” somi exclaims with her hands thrown in the air.

“you think that just because i liked you, it gives you reason you use me as you see fit? you think i’m not going to get tired of the way you act? of you?”

somi never would’ve expected those harsh words out of mingyu’s mouth, tired? of somi? there’s no way that’s possible— not to her. she wasn’t half wrong though, deep down mingyu knew he only half heartedly meant what he said. “can you just leave? i don’t want to see your face right now.”

taglist: @mochami-mochi @gyuwoosbabie @minmangyu

#kim mingyu #mingyu #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

[poshmina]

A Tale of Two*Very Sensitive* Wings

Azriel X !Fem Reader

Warnings: (18+ Mature) wingplay, size kink, light angst, getting caught

Word Count: 5k+

Background: You are a long lost Archeron half-sister and your dad sends a message asking if your sisters will provide you with refuge. They oblige, bringing you back to the night court to reside with them and the rest of the inner circle. The story begins after A Court of Mist and Fury when Nesta lets slip to you at dinner that Azriel thinks he’s your mate. At first, this shocks you, as you are still human and are not accustomed to the traditions of the Fae. However, as time goes on you’ve begun to feel drawn to him. You spend your time in the Night Court learning healing practices, since you have no magical power and cannot fight with the rest of them. You’ve been staying in the House of Wind with Azriel, and though you see him often and want to get closer to him, he is always quiet and withdrawn, leaving you confused wondering how someone so distant could be your mate?

The floor of the House of Wind shudders as an Illyrian male lands on the balcony. You look up from where you’d been sitting at the table, enjoying dinner, and watch his shadow cross the balcony. You can’t make out his face in the darkness, but you know who it is anyhow. 

Azriel crosses the threshold of the doorway into the dining room, his long wings tucked against his back. He hardly casts you a passing glance as he breaches the room, shadows swirling around him, seemingly not in the mood to chat tonight. You’ve gotten used to the quiet, brooding demeanor of your housemate, and usually you don’t press. Except tonight there’s blood on his face, in his hair, and on his clothes. As he walks, pieces flake off and scatter across the floor, meaning it’s been there long enough to dry. Meaning he likely left his wounds untreated the entire flight here, meaning he risked passing out mid flight and tumbling to his death due to blood loss.

You shove your chair out from behind you and stand, the sound echoing across the hall. “How long have you been bleeding?”

He doesn’t pause, or even look over his shoulder to address you. “It’s not mine.”

By this point, he’s halfway across the room, apparently planning to head to his quarters without having someone check his wounds. That’s when you notice it, a myriad of tears across his wings as if he’d been struck with arrows and then yanked them back out. The blood on his wings is most definitely his own. 

“Azriel!” It comes out as a mix between a shout and a plea. You can tell yourself you don’t really care about him, that you would harass anyone until they got treated, except this is more than medical obligation. You’re beginning to care for him.

He stops in his tracks, but doesn’t look over his shoulder. “Y/N, I’m fine,” he insists. 

You cross the room towards him. “Clearly you’re not! There are holes in your wings. You’re so covered in blood there’s no way even you could tell if there were wounds hidden beneath. You have to get treated!”

He lets out an irritated sigh and finally turns to face you. “Y/N, you don’t have to involve yourself in this. It’s none of your business.”

Gods, you can’t believe him. “You made it my business when you came in tracking blood across the house. Either go see a healer, or let me take a look.”

You don’t know why you’re so insistent. He could be fine. He’s been alive for hundreds of years and surely knows his physical limits. Except you’re so tired of him keeping you at arm's length, so tired of his closed off, brooding attitude. 

He hesitates, jaw clenched, but doesn’t agree. 

“Just let me help you,” you plead. 

For a moment, you think you see behind his mask, the cold exterior he keeps up around you. You think he’s going to say yes.

Instead he draws further on himself and pushes you further away. “I’m fine, Y/N. Worry about yourself.” He turns to disappear down the hallway, but doesn’t get two steps before you’re walking after him. You don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but you’re sick of his games. Sick of waiting and wondering if he’ll ever make a move. If he even likes you. Every feeling you bottled up from the past few months comes to a head, tumbling out of you.

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, exasperated. 

He wheels around to face you, unable to mask the surprise on his face, “What?”

“I said what is wrong with you! You’re always irritated, or distant, or avoidant. You actively avoid me even though I’ve done nothing but be kind to you. You act like I’m a thorn in your side even though I have every right to be here in this house with you.” You jab a finger towards the floor to solidify your point. “Do you think I asked to be here? To be taken from my home and thrust into this strange kingdom, with your strange Fae traditions, where everyone is older, and faster and stronger than me?” He blinks, stunned into silence by your sudden outburst.

“Do you think I asked to have you as my mate?”

Immediately, you wish you could take it back. You hadn’t meant for that to come out at all, let alone in such an accusatory tone. Really, you don’t mind the thought of him as your mate. That is, if you could explore the bond together. If he would quit shoving you away. 

His shadows flare, and the scowl you've become so accustomed to returns. “Who told you that?”

“I—” You fumble over your words, “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

He takes a step closer, and all of the sudden you get a very real sense of his height as he towers over you. “Doesn’t matter, you already did. Now who told you?”

You reel to find something to distract him, not wanting to put the blame on Nesta. Your relationship with your new sister is so new and fragile, you can’t drive a wench in it. “I deserved to know Azriel. It’s not like you were going to tell me.”

His gaze flickers, and you swear you see a flash of pain in those eyes. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

The sting of rejection pangs sharp in your chest. He didn’t want you to find out this way, or he didn’t want you to find out at all? All these months avoiding you, acting like he wants nothing more than for you to poof out of his life and return where you came from. You tried to ignore the fear, tried to push it away, but now the reality crashes over you. Your mate doesn’t want you at all. 

“Well now I know and I don’t expect anything from you.” You jab a finger towards his chest. “I know I’m human and I’m weak and you didn’t ask for me either. But it wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer to me.” You take a shuddering breath, and a weight seems to fall off your shoulder with all of those words out. You realize you’ve moved closer to him and take a step back.

“Nicer,” he repeats, watching you intently. 

“Yes,” you huff. “We don’t have to be anything more than acquaintances. Housemates, even. But you don’t have to be such a dick.” You cross your arms and level him a stare.

He sighs, shaking head in disbelief. “Fine. What exactly does this relationship of acquaintance entail?” One of his wings shudders behind him, and from the wince on his face you can tell it wasn’t on purpose. You look at it pointedly. 

“Letting me help you would be a start.”

There’s a final moment of hesitation, drawn out long enough that you think he might actually turn you away. Except then he shakes his head, and as if it physically pains him to do so, says, “As you wish.” Without another word he turns down the hall to head to his rooms. You take a moment of pause, wondering if you pushed too far. The male in front of you is not just any man, he’s a centuries old Illyrian warrior with power beyond your comprehension. Any relationship with him could be dangerous, acquaintance or no. 

But he turns back to you. “You coming?” And for some reason you can’t help but follow.

—

“Fuck.” He shudders beneath your hands. The blood was not, in fact, entirely his opponents. He had two gashes, one across his abdomen and the other along his bicep. Although his fae blood was already beginning to heal them, you insisted he let you stitch them up in order to avoid scarring. 

You thread the needle through his skin and finish the final stitch, clipping the string you used to sew him up and sitting back to admire your handiwork. You may not have magic, but you quickly excelled in the healing arts. 

“All done,” you tell him. He lifts his head from where it had been bowed against his arms and inspects your work. If he’s impressed or not, you can’t tell. He shows nothing on his face, not even a hint of pain from the wounds still remaining on his wings. 

“Now for your wings,” you shift to stand behind him, biting your lip as you try to decide a course of action. Wings can’t be stitched up, they have to heal naturally, and take longer than most ailments to close. The best you can offer is to apply a numbing salve to curb the pain for now. You’re about to tell him that when he says—

“I can handle it.”

You knit your eyebrows. “I’m already here. You won’t be able to reach behind you. If I don’t numb them you’ll be in serious pain all night.”

Put so plainly you’re unsure how he could refuse. He does anyhow. “I don’t need numbing salve. You’ve done plenty, thank you.” And just like that he dismisses you. Except now that he’s washed the blood from his skin you can see just how pale he is, and with the pain he won’t be able to get a lick of sleep, slowing the healing process altogether. 

You prop a hand on your hip. “As your healing professional I would strongly advise against that.” You don’t understand his reluctance, and every time he says no to help, it only makes you want to push further. 

He looks up at you, and for the first time in maybe forever, one side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Healing professional, huh?” 

You shrug. “The closest you have to one, at least.”

He tilts his head back and mutters a prayer to the Mother. “You’re not going to leave until I let you do this, will you?”

“It’s unlikely.”

He gives an exasperated sigh, then leans over the desk he’d been sitting at, baring his wings to you. “Make it quick.” His voice is muffled by the cradle of his arms. You can’t help but smirk at the success. Progress. This is progress.

A few minutes later the house has summoned a jar of numbing salve for you and you are standing over him, preparing to begin your work. 

“This may sting for a moment, but once it settles it will fade.” He grunts in response. “I’ll be gentle,” you add. You scoop a generous portion out of the jar, warming it between your fingers before applying it. You decide to start at the outskirts where the tears are thinner and not as gruesome. Hovering a hand over his wing, you pause for a moment before gingerly spreading the salve on him. He tenses immediately, hissing through his teeth before relaxing as it settles in.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Fine.” His tone is clipped. 

Taking that as permission, you continue along the edges of his wings, applying and waiting for him to adjust before moving to the next. As far as cooperation goes, he is the ideal patient. He doesn’t so much as shift a muscle while you work, and remains deadly silent. If it weren’t for his fists resting on the table clenched to the point his knuckles are white, you would think it was painless. 

Once you finish the outer ring of his wings, you pause. “I’m going to tackle the deeper ones now. Do you need a break?”

“Don’t bother.” His voice comes out muffled, and you notice one of his hands has disappeared into the space between his arms where his head is caged. He’s likely biting at his finger to distract from the pain. 

“Would you like something to bite on?”

 For a moment there’s no response, then his hand returns into sight on the desk. “I’m fine, Y/N. Please continue.” He says as if you’re a nagging insect buzzing at his ear rather than the only person trying to help him. 

With a huff, you dip your fingers into the jar again, and begin to spread the salve near the base of his wings. This time, you aren’t quite so gentle. 

He lets out a strangled sound beneath you, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. Immediately, you feel guilty, and start to take more care with the application, massaging slow, deliberate circles into the muscles of his wings. You can feel the muscles around the tears shudder and relax as you go. He curses beneath your hands. 

You’ve almost reached the last, and nastiest, of his wounds when he abruptly shoves his chair backwards and stands, causing you to lose your balance. You nearly fall on your ass before catching yourself on the desk. 

“That’s enough,” he nearly shouts at the same time you say, “What the fuck, Azriel?” His eyes are wild, chest heaving as he glares down at you. He distinctly seems to angle his body away from you.

“I wasn’t finished,” you argue.

He looks up at the ceiling, anywhere but directly at you. “You’ve done plenty.” Instinctively, your eyes fall to his stomach to double check the work you’d done earlier. Instead, your eyes snag on something a few inches lower.

Your eyes widen as you take in the obvious bulge straining against his leathers. 

Oh.

One of the first things you’d learned about treating the Fae is that wings are very sensitive. They are to be handled with the utmost care, their delicate construction requiring practiced healing applications. However, in all your training, nobody had deigned to mention sensitive goes hand in hand with pleasurable. 

His eyes flare as you look back up at him, cheeks heating. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words don’t come. He merely continues to stare at you with that heated gaze. 

“I should go,” the words come out of you in a frenzied rush. He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t disagree either. “I just— I didn’t realize,” now that you’ve started, you can hardly stop yourself. “This is all so new to me. I wouldn’t have if I’d known—”

“Now you know.” If he means it to be harsh, it doesn’t come out that way, but rather like a plea.

“I should go,” you say again, but can hardly move a muscle. With him standing there and looking at you like that, with the distance between you so small. You feel as if you're drowning, and he is the current pulling you further under. 

You let out a small gasp as you feel a featherlight touch on your cheek. One of his shadows has crept across the room, and whether he intended it or not, is caressing you gently. Instinctively, you lean into it.

A few paces away, you watch his lips part as he watches you. He doesn’t recall his shadow. Instead, it inches closer, brushing across your lips. You don’t dare move, you don’t dare breathe. 

“Azriel,” you whisper. 

In a moment he’s upon you. The shadow dissipates, replaced by his hands cupping your face, his hips pushing you backwards until you're pressed against the desk. He kisses you with a hunger you’ve never felt before, his lips moving desperately against yours. You let out a whimper as he guides your lips apart, running his tongue across your own. 

With every ounce of self control you have left, you manage to shove him away for a moment. 

“I thought you hated me. I thought you didn’t want me as your mate.” You search his eyes for answers, for the cold, closed off man you’d known up until now.

“Hate you?” He tips his head back and laughs humorlessly. “If hating you means thinking about you every waking moment. If hating you means desperately wishing you’d appear outside my doorway every night. If hating you means not being able to even think about you without—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “If that’s what it means then sure, Y/N, I hate you.”

Your mind reels trying to process what he’s telling you. “You sure as hell acted like it.”

A flash of regret crosses through his eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I wanted to give you time to adjust.”

Faintly, you remember what had happened when Lucien had sprung the mating bond on a newly transformed Elain. She can hardly stand to be in the same room as him, let alone pursue a relationship. 

In a moment of boldness, you reach down and palm him through his leathers, watching as his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. “Consider me adjusted.” You yank him back down to you, crashing his lips against yours. He meets you with the same intensity, tongue and lips and teeth clashing in a heavenly dance. His hand slides up to your throat as he kisses you, holding gently. It’s only when you pull away to gasp for air when you realize his shadows are floating around you, cradling you both. 

Your lips part in wonder. It’s beautiful, but you hardly get the chance to tell him so before he lifts you up on the desk and resumes the contact. His kisses stray from the side of your mouth, to your jaw and neck. He takes your ear between his teeth and tugs lightly, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hand cups your breast, and when the attention of his mouth lowers to your collarbones, you lean back to shuck your shirt off. He palms your breast greedily, reaching behind you to undo your bra clasp before taking a moment to stare. You feel your cheeks heat at the intensity of his gaze, and have the urge to cover yourself again.

“Perfect. You’re fucking perfect Y/N,” he mutters before lowering his mouth to your nipple and closing his mouth upon it, sucking and swirling in a way that makes you arch into him. He gives your other breast equal attention until you're moaning and panting beneath him. 

He retreats to relive himself of his armor. If there’s any remaining pain in his wings, he doesn’t show it. He steps close and positions himself between your legs, peering down at you. You reach out a hesitant hand and hover it over the tip of his wing. He watches your movements with rapt attention, nearly holding his breath with anticipation. 

You brush a featherlight touch along the crest of his wings, and that touch alone is enough to cause him to shudder and groan under his breath. You can’t imagine how he stood still for so long earlier. 

You reach down and tug at the hem of his shirt, wanting it off. He obliges, tossing it aside, returning his attention to you. You take him in slowly, dragging a hand down the hard line of his abs, tracing his tattoos with your finger. He waits patiently, letting you have your fill. Unable to help yourself, you glance down at his hardness again, breath faltering as you take in exactly how big he is. From a distance, it seemed reasonable, but from this close…

He reaches out a hand to cup your face, peering into your eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

Without a moment's hesitation, you say. “Yes. I want this Azriel. I want you.”

You watch relief flash in his eyes before he resumes his movements. His hands go to your waistband, and he unbuttons your pants before leaning in to whisper, “Lift your hips for me, “Y/N.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself so he can slide your pants over your hips and cast them aside. He repeats this motion with your underwear, baring you completely to him. And before you can even consider what’s to come next, he lowers himself to his knees in front of the desk, bringing his face directly in line with where you need him most. He places one long lick from your entrance to your crest, drawing a ragged gasp from you, then pulls away. 

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” Your mind spins, because as he’s talking, his mouth is hovering over you and you can feel his breath as he speaks. 

He dips a finger between your folds, dragging it up to circle your clit. “I’m gonna get you ready now so you can take me comfortably, alright?”

You hardly register what he’s saying, because his finger is moving fervently against you and you can already feel that coil of pleasure within you. You give a short nod in response. 

Then, as quickly as it came, the pressure on your clit is gone. You look down to see him peering up at you, waiting for an answer. What did he say again?

He must sense you drawing a blank, because he smirks and repeats himself. “I need you to be good and do as I say so you can take me fully. Okay, Y/N?” 

“Oh… Yes. Okay,” you nod fervently. It’s then you realize exactly what he’s saying to you. You heard rumors around the inner circle that Azriel had the biggest… wingspan… but you never imagined anything close to this.

Satisfied with your answer, he resumes again, lowering his mouth to take the place of his finger. He circles his tongue around your clit, then sucks gently. You’re already seeing stars when you feel his finger at his entrance and he slowly slides it into you. 

You moan and arch off the desk, hands flying to his head to tangle in his hair. You chance a glance down at him, and the sight of him kneeling before you, wings looming over his shoulders, eyes dark with lust, almost sends you over the edge then and there. 

He begins to pump into you slowly, curling every so often to hit a spot that makes you writhe and moan. You’re just at the crest of your orgasm when he adds another finger. You hadn’t expected it, and the new sensation causes your hips to jerk as you gasp in pleasure. 

“Azriel I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” he murmurs. “Hold on a little longer for me, Y/N.”

You curse, trying to dampen the pleasure growing inside you. It’s all too much, and you have to bring your hand to your mouth and bite on your knuckle to keep from coming. He slows his movements for a moment, purposefully torturing you and keeping you on that edge. 

A moment later, everything resumes with increased intensity. He pushes a third finger inside you, stretching you in a way you’ve never felt before. You gasp, shutting your eyes against the pleasure, and when you open them again, he is standing in front of you, never stopping the pace of his fingers. He raises his other hand to circle your clit. The pleasure reaches a new crest, and you find yourself grasping onto the desk just to find something to ground you. 

“That's it. Come for me now,” he whispers, eyes never leaving you as the orgasm washes over you. You shudder as you come down from it, hips bucking against his hand. When you finally open your eyes you find your hand intertwined with his.

He gazes down at you, and the hint of a smile crosses his face. “Beautiful. Fucking perfect, Y/N.”

You blush and attempt to catch your breath as he rids himself of his pants and aligns himself with your entrance. You cast a glance down, taking him in in all his glory. He rubs his tip through your folds and sighs at the contact, before leaning in to give you a kiss. 

“Tell me if it hurts and we’ll stop,” he promises. You nod, dismissing his worries. You sincerely doubt he could do anything to hurt you based on how amazing you’ve felt so far. And regardless, you trust him, trust the rigid self control he’s shown you all these months in the house together. 

You feel his tip prodding your entrance, then he sinks the first few inches in. You sigh at the sensation, tilting your head to steal a kiss. With that for motivation, he pushes in a little further, looking down at you with worry in his eyes. 

“Okay?” he asks.

You let out a breathless laugh, “Better than okay.”

You watch his face soften, and he pushes the boundary a bit further. You look down to watch him sink in, and are shocked to see he’s only halfway sheathed. You can already feel yourself beginning to stretch around him. The feeling is foreign, but not painful. 

When you look back up at him, his face is strained in an expression that nearly looks painful. He’s holding himself back, hesitating to keep a firm grip on that iron self control of his. You reach up to run your hand through his hair, catching his eyes. 

“I’m okay Azriel. I’m not going to break,” you reassure him. 

You can tell by his curt not that he doesn’t believe it. He advances another slow, languid inch, and you buck against him impatiently. 

“Azriel,” you level him a look.

He sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to hurt you. You’re still human and—”

“And I’m okay. This is okay. This is good.” You rotate your hips enjoying the pleasurable sensation it brings. He hisses through his teeth above you, and his hips jerk forward only slightly. You enjoy pushing him, enjoy making him lose control.

But there's still so much of him left, and you can’t stand the delicate line he’s walking. You want him fully, and you want him now. You reach behind him, grabbing his ass to shove him the rest of the way in. You gasp as he makes a strangled sound above you. There’s a hint of the pain he was so worried about, but it falls to the wayside as you're entirely overwhelmed by pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he finally starts to move freely. Slowly at first, then with increased urgency. He pulls his hips back and rolls them into you, hitting a spot so deep within you it feels like you’re one in the same. You watch as his control slips, and his hips snap into you, inching you backwards on the desk. 

“Yes, Azriel, yes,” you tell him as he picks up the pace, fucking you so hard the desk begins to bang against the wall and your eyes roll back in your head. Fucking Azriel is a sensation unlike any you’ve known before. He fills you perfectly, bending to place kisses along your breasts and collarbones. Holding your hips to slam into you at an impeccable pace. 

He shifts, looping his arms under your knees, and then there’s only air beneath you as he picks you up and presses you against the wall, fucking you into it. You gasp and weave your hands into his hair, tugging lightly. You feel his thrust getting quicker, jerkier, but before he comes he switches you again, bending you over the desk and fucking you from behind. You cry out at the change in angle, and your hands fly to the edge of the desk, holding tightly.

You feel him leaning over you as he places a kiss on your back. “This is what I wanted. Everytime I avoided you, everytime I pushed you away, it was because of how badly I wanted this.” He punctuates the last word with a particularly hard thrust and you cry out as you feel his hand intertwine with your hair. It all becomes too much, and you feel yourself approaching the edge again when he wraps a hand around to your front, finding your clit and sending you spiraling. He fucks you through it, steady, hard, barely giving you a chance to come down before his hips jerk and you feel him finish. He curses, seating himself fully inside you as he rides out his orgasm.

When he pulls out, you are panting and breathless and sated with pleasure. You turn around to see his shadows scattered across the room, filling every crevice and corner.

It’s then that you both hear footsteps coming down the hall. His eyes widen, and he hurriedly steps in front of you to block you from view, covering himself with his hands. 

Cassian round the corner, fury in his gaze. “What the fuck Azriel. The entire city is covered in shadows. Rhysand thinks you’re– Oh.” He stops in his tracks, cheeks turning pink as he lifts a hand to cover his eyes. 

“Cassian?” Azriel says, his voice strained.

“Yea?” His voice sounds choked in his throat.

“Get the fuck out.” 

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader

[obliviouscxnt]

Nightmare Azriel x Reader

a/n: oh my god, I’m actually so shocked by the feedback from the last fic. It gave me the serotonin and motivation to write a part two :o I'm probably going to make this into a series, I have many ideas!! Maybe some smut if I'm feeling brave... thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! :))

can be read as a standalone, but without some context from pt.1 things might become confusing

synopsis: your need to help gets you into trouble

Warnings: strong(?) hints of sexual activities, minor angst, minor violence, fluff

pt. 1 | pt.3

 

In the corner of his eye, he can see you picking at your fingers. Your sharp nails do unnecessary damage to your fragile hands. 

He knew you were worried for Feyre, ever since she’d been taken to the spring court you’d been on edge. 

It went beyond a loyal subject worrying about her High Lady. You fretted for Feyre like you would Amren, or Rhys, or Mor, or Cassian.

Though it was endearing in a way, Azriel didn’t like the way that worry manifested. The way you unknowingly damaged yourself. Your bottom lip was split open from gnawing on it, the skin on your fingers was peeled back and inflamed, and dark circles found their place under your eyes from sleepless nights. Unable to really rest when your friend was in the jaws of the spring beast. 

His shadows reach for you, demanding to be with you. 

He let a few of them loose, watching as they traveled to you instantly. One settled at your hands, weaving between each of your fingers and curling around your wrist. Another rested on your shoulder, brushing your face. The others couldn’t decide where to settle, traveling over your body frantically as they tried to comfort you. 

The shadowsinger was about to pull them back, but as soon as they felt his pull they settled in whichever place they could. Nuzzling against you. Desperate to stay with you, comfort you. 

Azriel found it amusing, and so utterly relatable. 

He forces his attention back to the papers on his desk. Which was more than a struggle.

It was an impossible task, staring at building diagrams and reading reports from his spies, when the most magnificent woman he’d ever known sat not three feet from him. 

Then he felt your eyes on him, and he knew there was no point even trying. He wouldn’t be able to focus. 

He meets your gaze and arches a perfect brow. 

You wanted to ask him something. That much was obvious. But you hesitated, you didn’t know if he would say yes. 

“What is it?” 

You glanced down at your hands, then up at him, then back down at your hands. “May I go see Rhys?” Your voice is small as you ask.  

When you heard the shadowsinger sigh you knew what the answer would be. 

Azriel ran a hand through his hair as he watched you.

You had been asking that a lot recently, and at first he allowed it. He saw no harm in you sitting with his brother, helping him when he needed help, listening when he checked in on Feyre through their bond. He knew his brother didn’t mind, he understood your anxiety and shared it with you tenfold. But Rhysand had a lot to deal with, so for that reason, Azriel shook his head. 

“Rhys is very busy.” He starts, extending an open hand toward you. Smile tugging at his lips when you walk around the desk and place your hand in his. “Feyre is strong, she can handle herself.” He assures you as he pulls you to stand between his legs, letting his hands soothe your body. Letting his shadows join him.

But he can tell by how tense you were that his assurance wasn’t helping. 

His fingers thread through your hair. “You want to help Feyre, is that it?” His thumb brushed over your jaw as you nod. “Why don’t you pay her sisters a visit? I’m sure that would ease some of her stress, to know that you’re there for them like you were for her.” 

He watched some light enter your eyes and almost smiled in victory. You were so enthralled with the idea, you tried to run out of his office to visit them right at that moment. He caught you, pulling you back against him until you sat in his lap. “Tomorrow.” He breathed. 

You leaned into him, coaxed by his hands. Sighing as his mouth plants wet kisses down your neck, shivering when you feel his tongue come out to lick over your pulse.

Azriel let himself get lost in you. In feeling you against him. In bathing in your scent. 

He doesn’t let himself second guess his suggestion, even though there was a very reasonable voice in his head that was kicking him. A voice that berated him for being so foolish. That screamed to just let you see Rhys. That begged to keep you far, far away from Nesta Acheron.

But that voice is drowned out by his need for you. 

He groans when you turn around in his lap, straddling him, shimmering black dress riding up your thighs. His hands immediately find purchase on them, squeezing. While yours tangle in his hair.

You pant, lips parted as your eyes run over him. Stopping at his lips, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, the hands that squeezed your thighs when you looked at them. You were mesmerized by him. 

You needed him. Gods, you needed him.

He kissed you like a starved beast. You moaned when his tongue brushed over the roof of your mouth, eliciting a hum from him. His hands slid up to your hips so he could grind you against him, hiking your dress up with them. 

You feel him harden beneath you.

“What do you want?” He asks against your lips, kissing them again, then kissing along your jaw, and then kissing back down your neck. Latching on to the spot that had your hands gripping his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“I…” You try, but words won’t form, only sounds. 

He parts with your neck to lean his head against yours. Looking in your eyes. Pulling back a bit when you move to kiss him. Hands now holding your hips still against him, torturing you with the feeling of him pressed against you.

 Your eyes plead with him, your sharp nails almost digging into his scalp as you lost yourself, and he can’t stop the smirk of pure satisfaction from spreading across his face. “Tell me what you want.”

You shudder when you feel him twitch underneath you. “Please.” His hands squeeze your hips. “Please. Use me.” 

The groan that left his mouth had to be the most sinful thing you’d ever heard.  

*****

Anxiety chews on your mind, spits it out, and chews it back up again. You wring your shaking hands. 

Before you was the door that separated you from the Acheron sisters. 

You knew of them, knew what they were like from what Feyre had told you. And now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to help them. Not for their sake. 

But for Feyre… You’d started coming to terms with the fact that you’d do just about anything for her. 

However, that didn’t stop your heart from beating so fast you were afraid it would fail.

Azriel’s hands rest on your upper arms and he leans down to your ear. “Breathe.” You absentmindedly lean into him, relishing in the feeling of his lips brushing your ear. His breath fanning across your cheek.

“If you can’t handle this we’ll go back.” He says, making it very obvious that he wouldn’t mind curling back up in bed with you. You exhale a shaky breath as his hand slowly slides over your breast, your nipple hardens under the silky fabric of your dress and he traces it with his finger. You were seriously debating it. 

But your need to help in some way, to do something useful wins. 

“I can handle it.” You say, sounding not at all sure of yourself. 

But he listens, moving his hands to rest back on your arms. Thumbs drawing calm circles. 

You give yourself a moment to breathe. Leaning your head back against his chest. Feeling your stomach flip when his lips press against your head.

When you were finally ready he opened the door for you. You took one more futile deep breath, all the air in the world wouldn’t be able to tame your emotions, then walked in with a friendly smile plastered on your face. 

You immediately wished you’d accepted his offer to go back to bed when the harsh eyes of the oldest Acheron sister settled on you. There was no mistaking who was who. 

“What are you?” 

Her words were like a physical blow. Her voice, colder than ice. You step back bumping into Azriel’s chest.  

He rests a hand on your shoulder as if to say, we can still go back. But you’d made your choice, you were here to offer your help. If they didn’t want it, then fine, but you would still offer it.

“A friend,” You manage to say. Her cruel gaze felt like a physical weight on your being. So scrutinizing, so full of hate. It’d been a while since someone cast eyes like that your way. Azriel had been careful to make sure of that. “Of Feyre’s.” 

Her stare narrows on you. Drinking you in. You watch her gaze snag on your pointed teeth. You close your mouth. Whatever you were about to say dying in your throat. 

“Some friend.” 

Azriel glared at Nesta, the warning clear on his face. Say no more. He puts a hand on your lower back, guiding you to where the other sister sat, on a chair in front of a window. 

The weight of Nesta's stare never left you.

But when you see Elaine, all of it ceases to matter.

All thoughts left your brain. Not unlike how you got sometimes with Azriel—when all the pleasure became too much—but also completely different. It wasn’t Azriel guiding you now. 

It was what lived inside you, the writhing magic that was always thrumming under your skin. 

Your brain doesn’t register how the girl looks, hollow; as if someone scooped all the life out of her. Your brain doesn’t register a thing except the irresistible pull. 

You could feel it, or her, calling to you. Beckoning you closer. 

You couldn’t refuse. 

When your mind came back to your body, you stood directly in front of Elaine. Your palm cupping her face. 

Then you felt something awful slither into your head. It slipped through the crevices of your mental barriers and crawled into a dark corner of your mind. Hiding from you, even though you could feel it watching.

Nausea overcame you. You snatch your hand back like she burned you. Shuffling back toward Azriel who looked at you with concern.

Then Elaine's eyes closed. Nesta rushed to her sister as she went unconscious. Almost falling out of her chair. The older Acheron managed to catch her in time with help from Azriel’s shadows. 

You turned to Azriel. “I want to go.” Your words barely a whisper.

His eyes widen when he sees the fear on your face. The horror. His shadows encompass you, providing your body with a cover, a shield. 

“What did you do?!” Nesta shouted through pants of fatigue, having just lugged her sister to bed. You gripped Azriel’s shirt and he held you close to him as he led you out. Away from the screaming woman. “What did you do to my sister?!” 

***** 

“What happened?” 

You swallowed at your High Lord, glancing at Azriel. For what? You didn’t know. Help? Comfort maybe? Whatever it may be you didn’t receive it. All you got was a nod in Rhysand’s direction. 

So you turn back, struggling to find your words under his serious gaze. Not harsh, but very, very serious. “I don’t know. She looked so tired… I just—It felt like she was calling to me.” Trying not to think about that thing you could still feel hiding. Still, feel looking at you with eyes you couldn’t see.

He waved for you to continue. 

“She’s fine.” You say, and somehow find yourself completely sure of those words. Though you had watched her pass out with your own eyes. Knew it was your doing. 

“How do you know that? This is different. Even Azriel said he’s never seen you do something like that before.” You look down at your hands, picking at the already torn skin. 

You don’t dare look up when you feel Rhys rise from his seat. Feel him walk around his desk until he’s in front of you. It's when he speaks that you feel the need to meet his stare.

He holds a hand over your head. “May I?” 

Azriel steps forward. Looking as if he were about to protest. Rhys shoots him a look that makes him stop. 

Rhys needed to know what happened, to make sure you didn't harm his mate's sister. The bond took control of his instincts. Your word wouldn't suffice.

You’d never deny your High Lord a request. Never deny any of your friends a request. You never had before, Azriel always had to step in and do it for you. 

So when you stiffly shook your head no, well, to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

Your whole body was tense as if just the act of refusing took everything out of you. Required every bone, every muscle, and every bit of air in your body.

But you couldn’t risk that thing infecting Rhys. Not when you didn’t know what it was. Not when you could feel its hungry stare. 

You held your breath until Rhysand’s hand dropped to his side.

Your felt physically ill. The weight of what you just did settling on you. You stiffly turned to Azriel.

“I want to go.” You said for the second time that day. 

Azriel’s brows dipped as he looked at you, worry covering his features. His shadows were restless, flicking with agitation as they too struggled to see you so bothered. 

He glances at Rhys but the High Lord gives him a look of sympathy. “I need to speak with you.” 

The shadowsinger’s jaw clenched. Wanting nothing more than to refuse, to point out the state you were in even though it was as clear as day. 

But he couldn’t say no to his brother, not after all he’d done for them. 

He walks you to the office door, turning you to face him before you can leave. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your head. His words were nothing but breath against your ear. A whisper for only you to hear. “Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.” But you didn't walk away, looking unsure, nervous. “Go.” 

Your only consolation, as you left, were the shadows that parted with him and linked with you. 

Once you were far enough down the hall the High Lord spoke. “What was she thinking?” He paced in front of his desk. “She knows her magic is dangerous… did she even read those books Helion sent?” He swallowed as he remembered the limited information those three books had, the only books that made any mention of dreamwalkers. 

“Of course, she read them, you asked her too.” Azriel said, bite in his tone. Making Rhys sigh and stop his pacing. The High Lord sends an apologetic look to his brother as he sits on the front of his desk. “She wasn’t thinking,” Azriel says after a few moments of silence. 

Rhys raised a brow, silently telling him to elaborate. 

The shadowsinger leans back, remembering that look on your face. A look he’d seen many times, but never in a public setting, and you never moved on your own.  “She was in a trance.”

“Elaine could’ve done something to her.” Rhys thinks aloud, making Azriel straighten. 

Did she curse you? They still had no idea what gifts the cauldron bestowed upon the Acheron sisters. The last thing he wanted was for you to be on the receiving end of those gifts. 

Both Illyrian men sat in worry. 

“I’m sorry, I suggested she visit them. I thought maybe she’d click with them like she did Feyre.” Azriel says, running a hand down his face. 

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I know she wants to help. And not everyone can be as charming as Feyre.” At that, the brothers shared a strained smile. 

“How is she?” 

Rhys let out a deep breath as he picked imaginary lint off his clothes. “Alive.” 

Azriel couldn’t imagine how he’d act if you were in enemy territory, the thought making him tense, body itching to be near you. He’d die before he’d let that happen. 

“She’ll be home soon.” Azriel offers Rhys the words of comfort, even though they wouldn't do much.

Before Rhys could reply shadows scurried under the door rushing to Azriel.

The shadowsinger’s face went pale at their whispers. He shot up from his seat. “[name].” 

Then a loud bang was heard followed by a scream of bloody murder. 

The two males were rushing out of the room and running through the halls of the house within a split second. Somewhere along the way Cassian had joined them, shirtless and sweaty. Having rushed out of the training room the moment he heard the bang.

More bangs sound, but none as loud as the first one. And no more screams follow.  

Azriel found himself wishing for you to scream. If you were screaming you were breathing. 

He burst through the door of your shared chambers, almost knocking it down. He didn't stop to stare at the sight before him like his brothers did. There was no time to pause, not when you were being shoved into the tub by Hybern soldiers, their jagged nails gashing your beautiful skin. Their faces were unnatural and barely formed. Some were faceless, just flat skin and dark empty holes where their eyes and mouths should've been. 

Stood behind you was the disfigured form of the King of Hybern himself. His body was reconstructed by the nightmare, making his fae features more monstrous. More fitting for his character.

The evil king's smile stretched from ear to ear as you thrashed under the cold water. 

Azriel shoved his way through, ripping you from their arms and dragging you out of the tub. But the soldiers didn’t stop. Still reaching for you with their long slender fingers. 

Tears flowed from your closed eyes, your body twitching and shaking as you were tortured both in your mind and outside it. 

“Rhys!” Azriel shouted springing the High Lord into action. He rushed over, dodging the grabbing arms before setting both hands on either side of your head and forcing you to wake. 

Your eyes snapped open, gulping in as much air as possible. The figures dissipated into thin air. Like a flame being snuffed out. 

You squirmed away from the hands of your High Lord. Pushing against the firm body you adored so much.

You grabbed Azriel, holding him tight. So tight he wouldn’t be able to leave you again. Too afraid to worry about your bare body and the fact that both Cassian and Rhysand could see. Too afraid to notice the other person who stood at the doorway with wide eyes. Too afraid to do anything but hold him.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I’m here.” He held you tighter as your body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

You know what happened now. What that thing was. Gripping Azriel tighter as the knowledge weighed on your brain. 

You tensed when he lifted your shivering body into the outstretched towel Cassian held. Azriel pulls you close to him when you recoil away from his brother's gentle touch.

Cassian watched Azriel wrap the towel around you. Heart heavy as you clung to his brother. A look of pure dread etched on your face, accompanied by a stream of never-ending tears. 

 You’re vaguely aware of Rhys rummaging through your drawers in the background. Vaguely aware of Azriel lifting you once more. Cradling you against him as he carried you to the bed. 

He took the medical supplies from Rhys and then asked his brothers to leave. They hesitantly obliged, taking the shocked Nesta Acheron with them and closing the slightly damaged door.

He lays you down on the bed, backing up a bit to open the first aid kit but you lurch for him. Arms tightening around his neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wishing he never had to say such words to you. “I’m right here with you.” Feeling his chest split in half when you reluctantly let him go. Bottom lip quivering. 

His hands are softer than usual as they patch you up. Frown deepening at every single scratch, and bruise he saw. His fingers brush over an already forming bruise on your waist. Bile rose in his throat as the image of those horrid hands grabbing and piercing your smooth skin filled his mind.

“I took it from her.” 

Your broken confession drew his attention away from the bruise and to your scared eyes. He felt helpless as he stared into them, he should've never left you. He cradled your face, thumbing away your tears only for more to take their place. He brushed those away too. 

“That nightmare. I took it from her.” 

next→

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #azriel x you #cassian acotar

[strang3lov3]

GameStop

Summary: Mall Rats 4! (Can be read alone or, catch up with the mallrats in my masterlist) Joel tells you not to fuck with the Nintendo he stole from GameStop. His one rule. You fuck with it. That’s okay, though. Joel makes you play Mario with his fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Warnings: JOEL IS WEARING GRAY SWEATPANTS THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL🚨‼️ fingering, teasing, edging, orgasm denial blowjobs, unprotected piv, creampie, jjoel is so tender and such a dick, arguing, inglewood up to no good, domestic moments, minor injuries, when will these two fucking kiss!?? Idk

W/C: 4.6k

A/N: thank you very much @papipascalispunk i appreciate you taking the time to edit this. I love you so much. did you know that? And everyone else, do you know how much I love y’all for reading and engaging? I do. In case you didn’t know already 🥰

Joel stands in front of your house early afternoon on Saturday, a box of cords and plastic in one hand as he urgently knocks on your door, “Open up,” he barks, “This shit’s heavy.”

“Fuck,” you groan, walking up to your front door wearing nothing but an ill-fitting t-shirt and some old boxers. You can see Joel waiting impatiently through the window. You open the door and squint at Joel, the daylight too bright for your eyes, “What do you want, Joel?”

“Need to use your TV,” he demands, stepping inside your home and placing a hand on your hip to move you aside, “Move.” 

“Why?”, you resist.

Joel motions toward his box with an annoyed expression on his face and your eyes light up. “Oh yeah,” you say, leading Joel to your living room where he sits in front of your old and boxy television, flipping up panels and tinkering with buttons before plugging in cords, “Can I play too? Will you show me how?”

“If you listen to me, maybe,” Joel mumbles as he’s setting up the console before turning to you, “Are you gonna be good and listen to me?”

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Figures.”

You didn’t listen yesterday, either. You never do. 

-

Something had caught your eye and you went ahead of Joel, something he absolutely hates. He tells you your place is next to him or behind him. He leads. You follow.

“Would you quit fuckin’ wanderin’, Inglewood?”, Joel hissed at you in the second level of the mall, “I give ya an inch, ya take a mile.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why do you call me that?”

“Cause you’re always up to no good.” 

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighed.

An odd clicking noise startled you both. It wasn’t quite that signature sound of a clicker, but it was enough to set you both off. You turned to Joel with wide eyes, and he reflexively pulled you close, one hand over your mouth and his other arm wrapped around your waist. Behind me, he mouthed. 

You nodded and took your place behind Joel, heart pounding in your chest. He walked forward slowly before stopping, pulling out his gun and his flashlight. In front of him was a dark silhouetted figure, something he couldn’t quite make out. It stood in front of a store with a broken sign, white and red glass lettering shattered. As he tiptoed closer with you following close behind, his eyes began to piece more things together. The figure was unmoving, and upon closer inspection it looked to be wearing almost…tactical gear? Was it FEDRA? He wondered what the clicking noise was. Probably just the mall deteriorating. If there were infected in the mall, they would have shown themselves by this point.

The figure stayed still, unmoving. Finally, Joel saw it. On the figure’s chest read, ‘Call of Duty: Out October 29, 2003’. Joel let out a breath of relief and put his gun down, “False alarm,” he said. “Wait.”

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked as he took quick steps toward the unmarked store. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Get your ass over here. Follow me. First good thing in this godforsaken mall. Do you know what this is?”

“You know I don’t know what this is.”

Joel explained that it was a GameStop. They used to sell video games and stuff, had all sorts of fun things. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, stealing consoles and cartridges and gushing about how much he loved these games long ago. 

When you and Joel had returned from the mall, he practically sprinted into Ellie’s room, setting up their shared TV with a PlayStation and introducing her to some games. Ellie was ecstatic, and Joel knew she and the TV would be inseparable. 

-

Which leads him here, to your house, in front of your TV. 

“So I take it Ellie’s excited about the games and stuff you got her?”, you ask amused.

Joel fumbles with a controller to a Nintendo Entertainment System. “Big time,” he says. “They’re attached at the hip. So I’m commandeering your TV for today.”

“You could’ve asked, you know,” you tease, “I would’ve given it to you, asshole.”

“Don’t need you to give me nothin’. Just here to use your TV for a bit,” as he draws the curtains in your room, turns on your TV and adjusts the input, then sits back on your couch, legs outstretched on your coffee table, “It’s more fun when I take it from ya, anyway.”

You wonder if Joel gets physically ill at the thought of being polite, being kind to you. Nothing’s ever easy with him. He’s always ready to argue, ready to instigate. You roll your eyes, then leave Joel to take a shower and get dressed. You’re not sure what you were planning on doing on this Saturday, but video games with Joel seems to be your fate. 

By the time you have showered, Joel has already been playing for nearly 2 hours. You dress yourself in some comfy sweatpants and a hoodie, expecting to hunker down in front of the TV with Joel all day. You can hear the soft music from the video game from your room and Joel’s strings of expletives, or his cheers, depending on what’s happening in the game. You make a couple of sandwiches, some sliced apples, and pour a couple of glasses of water before you greet Joel in the living room. Standing in front of the TV, you watch as Joel tries to continue playing. There’s a little guy wearing a red hat, jumping over blocks and stomping on mushrooms. He makes a cute little ‘boing’ noise when he jumps, and the music playing in the background is playful, melodic. 

“Sweetheart, y’make a better door than a window. Get out of the way,” he gruffs. Joel’s got some fucking nerve today. He could have just kindly asked you to move. Tauntingly, you wiggle your ass in front of him, so he reaches over the coffee table and smacks it, “What’d I say about listening? Do you wanna play the game or not?” With Joel’s eyes still transfixed on the TV in front of you, you sit down next to him and place your two plates on the coffee table. “Everyday it’s somethin’ with you. Always tryin’ to get under my skin, always-”, Joel’s voice trails off as he glances at his plate, “Did you make me a sandwich?” 

You shrug, “You’re extra cranky today. Figured you could use a snack.”

“I’m not cranky,” Joel argues, “And I don’t need you makin’ me any snacks. Can make my own food.”

“Okay,” you say, eating your own food, “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. I’m not gonna shove it down your throat.”

Joel stays focused on his game until he hears the crunch of you biting into a slice of apple. “Wait, are those apple slices?”, he asks in a low tone. 

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t happen to cut any up for me, did you?”

“I did. Sprinkled cinnamon and sugar on top,” you smile proudly.

You watch Joel grumble to himself and play the game silently until he beats the level he’s on, then he pauses the game and sets his controller down. He picks up his plate of food and eats a couple of apple slices before inspecting his sandwich, “Did you poison this?”

“No, not the sandwich. The apples, yes. Don’t you taste the rat poison?” 

Joel rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his sandwich, “Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart. Up the dose next time. Tasty sandwich, though.”

“Noted,” you smile. Joel smiles too, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, the sparkle in his eyes and the way his face lit up when you told him you sliced up some apples for him too. 

“Tell me about your game.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, “It’s Mario. You don’t know Mario?”, and you shake your head no. “Jesus…you age me,” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich before continuing, “Mario’s a video game. Super Mario Brothers. He has a brother, Luigi. They’re plumbers and they fight Bowser to save Princess Peach. So that’s what I’m doin’ here,” Joel motions to the TV, “Savin’ Peach. Eventually.”

“Is it hard?”, you ask. 

“Kinda. Haven’t played in forever. But Tommy and I’d play all the time. Were always fightin’ over the damn Nintendo,” Joel chuckles, “Drove Mom fuckin’ nuts.”

“Maybe we should invite him over then,” you muse. 

“Nah,” Joel says, “Just me and you today.”

You smile, “Just us?” 

Joel nods, finishing the last of his sandwich and his apple slices, “Unfortunately.” He stretches his legs and his arms out long, then rubs his soft belly with a groan. “You’re trouble,” he tells you, “Tryna’ make me fat. I’m gonna go home and change into something cozier - jeans are fuckin’ tight.” 

“Bet I could make them tighter,” you bite your lip and nudge his thigh. 

“That’s a nice offer. You’re a charmer, Inglewood. Maybe later.” You huff as Joel picks up both of your plates and walks them to your kitchen sink, scrubbing and drying each one before pulling on his jacket. He walks back over to where you sit on the couch and points to the TV and his Nintendo, “Do not touch this,” he says, “It doesn’t have a memory card. So if you fuck with it, my progress is gone. Don’t unplug nothin’, don’t touch the TV, don’t–”.

“What if I–”.

Joel doesn’t let you get another word out, “Nope. Don’t do that either. Just leave it be, sit pretty and behave yourself. I’ll be back soon.”

You scoff and cross your arms as Joel leaves while staring at the paused screen of Joel’s game, then flicker your eyes lower to the controller Joel left on the coffee table. He didn’t say anything about playing the game. What’s the worst that could happen?

You reach for the controller and begin messing with the buttons, playing with the D-pad until the screen changes and you press ‘Start Game’.

The game starts. It catches you off guard. You fumble with the buttons until you figure out how to make Mario move, how to make him jump. A couple times you hit an angry looking mushroom and he dies. You snicker to yourself. Figures. Before you know it, you’ve passed Level 1-1 and you’re onto Level 1-2.

Level 1-2 comes and goes, and then Joel’s back at your door. You pause the game as he lets himself in. You wear a mischievous smile when you see him in his gray sweats and a t-shirt – your weakness. You can see the outline of his dick in those pants, and it sends a pang of arousal to your core. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you purr. 

“Pipe down, horndog,” Joel sits down on the couch next to you. Before he can reach for the controller, you slide your hand over one of his thick thighs and palm his bulge, then slip your hand under the waistband of his pants and play with his cock. He sighs as you stroke him, his sweet sounds getting you all hot and bothered. His cock is thick and warm, half hard and growing harder, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. “Later,” he reminds you, “C’mon. I know you can wait. I don’t have much of the game left to play.”

“Okay,” you mumble. You scoot closer to Joel as he picks up the controller, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his bicep. You squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to relieve some of the pressure at your core. He tries to shake you off of him, but you don’t budge. “I’m cold, Joel,” you protest.

“So get a blanket. I ain’t your heater,” he complains, but you feel him relax with your touch, snuggling up to you a little closer like maybe he’s cold too, “God, you make me nuts.”

You say nothing as Joel reaches for the controller, presses a couple buttons before the game starts again. He starts playing, then squints and furrows his brows. “Woah, woah, woah,” he says, “This ain’t right. What - why - what happened? Did you touch this? Tell me you didn’t touch this.”

“I didn’t touch it,” you lie. 

Joel turns to you and glares, “What. Did. You. Do.”

“I tried out your game,” Joel continues glaring at you and you raise your arms in surrender, “What?”

Joel cups your cheeks in both of his big hands and shakes your head gently, “Why would you do that?” 

“You told me not to unplug anything. I didn’t unplug anything.”

“I also told you not to touch anything,” Joel groans, “Do you know how long it took me to beat those levels?”

“Just pick up where you left off, Joel.”

“I told ya, it doesn't work like that. No memory card, no progress. I have to start over now,” Joel whines, “Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

“Beats me,” you say, “But–”, you take one of Joel’s hands from his controller and suck his fingers before slipping it under the waistband of your sweatpants, “Now we can get down to brass tacks. Hmm?”

“One rule,” Joel hisses as cups your mound, “I gave you one fuckin’ rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But now that you’re not playing Mario anymore, you can make me come. And then I’ll make you come. And you’ll forget you were ever mad at me.”

Joel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before turning to you, his eyes now mischievously lit up. “You’re right,” he says, “I’m not playing Mario anymore. You are.” He places the controller in your hands, “I told you I wanted to beat the game, and mayb then I’d fuck ya. So now you’re gonna get me back to where I was so I’ll finish up the game, and maybe, maybe after that, I’ll fuck you. Cause I’m not doin’ all of this again. I’ve got other games I wanna play too.”

“Piece of cake,” you reply confidently. Though really, playing Mario is harder than it looks.

“Oh, really? Is it that easy?”, Joel says, raising his eyebrows in amusement at your confidence as you nod, “If ya say so. I thought you said it’s harder than it looks. Whatever. Go on, then.” Situating yourself next to Joel, you adjust your grip on the controller. Joel’s hand is still beneath your pants, fingers resting against your lips. You look at him, wondering if he’ll pull his hand away. “You put it there,” he says. “It’s stayin’.”

Whatever. You start the game feeling confident in yourself, and then Mario hits a mushroom and he shrinks. And then he hits another mushroom, and he dies. Joel hums in amusement and you shove your elbow into his side. “I didn’t say anything,” he smirks.

It takes you about ten minutes to get the hang of it, but eventually you do. When you start a new level, Joel presses two of his fingers against your pussy and it startles you. Mario hits a turtle and he shrinks again. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”

Dragging his fingers up and down your folds at a leisurely pace, Joel shrugs, “Nothin’.” He’s definitely not doing “nothing”. It’s getting harder to focus now, and you’re making mistakes, getting hit by enemies, missing those little mushroom power ups that come at you every so often. You huff in frustration, and Joel chuckles to himself, “You suck, sweetheart.”

“Shut up, Joel.”

He presses the tip of his middle finger against your entrance, pushes inside before pulling his finger back out and dragging it up to your clit, smirking when your breath hitches in your throat, “Do you need some help? Pointers, maybe?”

“No,” you grit, “Shut up, Joel.”

“Hmm, alright,” he hums, his thick fingers now circling your sensitive bud. You can feel his intense gaze on you as you play the game, squashing Mario’s enemies to the best of your ability, but you were right the first time, it’s harder than it looks. Joel turns his attention back to the TV, “Hit that box with the question mark.” You raise your eyebrow in suspicion. It’s probably a trap. With Joel, it’s always a trap. “Watch what happens,” he instructs, so you hit the box and a flower emerges. Joel tells you to jump on it, so you do. Warily, though. Mario changes outfits. “There you go. Now if you press B,” he taps the other button on the controller, “You can shoot those guys with a fireball. Try it out.” 

Mario does in fact shoot fireballs at the enemies. This advantage makes the game come along smoother, so Joel ups the ante, drawing tight circles into your clit. “Joel,” you moan, “Quit it. You’re distracting me.”

“Thought you wanted me to make you come,” Joel taunts.

“I do, but not like thi–fuck–Joel, stop.”

“Tough luck,” Joel responds, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

You do your best to ignore the sensation of Joel touching you, but it’s hard. He knows exactly where to touch you, how to touch you to make you squirm and moan for him. You have to fight yourself to keep your eyes from rolling back when Joel pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out for a moment before abruptly curling them upward, hitting that sweet spot he knows and loves. “Jesus, Joel,” you moan, accidentally pressing the lower end of the D-pad. On the TV, Mario slides down a pipe and is brought to a new area. He’s able to run across the top of the screen, then finds an area with a bunch of pipes called the Warp Zone. This changes the game. You’re able to skip levels, making this whole thing go by even quicker. You’ll be on your way to fuck town in no time.

“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna figure that out,” Joel rubs his thumb over your clit as he fucks you with his two middle and ring fingers. You’re able to find a couple more pipes that allow you to go to Warp Zones, which doesn’t require quite as much focus on the screen. You allow yourself to savor the way Joel touches you, that warmth building up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you moan. That familiar edge begins to creep up just as you’re finishing another level. Your breathing quickens, your pussy dripping and gushing with every movement of Joel’s thick fingers. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t–”.

“Thanks sweetheart. That was a big help,” Joel yanks the controller from you with his free hand, then pulls the other away from your core. Now that you’ve gotten him to where he left off in the game, he focuses all of his attention on the TV, as if he was never touching you. 

“Are you serious?”, you’re in disbelief but Joel doesn’t answer, “Joel, I was about to–”.

“I know.”

You scoff, “Fuck you, man.”

“Yeah, I know you wanna. But I told you, you gotta wait til I’m done. You’re very forgetful, you know that?”

Frustrated, you shove your hand under your sweats and pick up where Joel left off. He clears his throat, “You can play with your pussy, or I can. Pick one but we’re not doin’ both. It’s up to you.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. This is bullshit. Joel can take control of your TV, but not your pleasure. You watch him in astonishment, how he pays you no mind as he plays the game. His eyes are glazed over and his lips slightly parted, deep in focus. It’s like you’re not even there. You lower your eyes from his face to his lap where his fingers move deftly, still slick and shiny with your juices. His thumbs dart back and forth over the D-pad and the buttons, and you wish he was still touching you like that. Expertly, with dedication and precision.  And then it catches your eye – the tent in his sweatpants, that little spot of dampness where his head rests against the fabric. He’s fucking rock hard from playing with you, leaking precome. You’re impressed with Joel’s ability to ignore his own arousal. Good for him. You, however, won’t ignore it. 

In a swift maneuver, too quick for Joel to even process, you pull down his sweats and let his cock spring free, setting the waistband under his heavy balls. You don’t even think, you just do it – lifting up his arm, you dive under and grip the base of his cock. You guide his tip to your mouth, swirling your tongue around his swollen head before letting it part your lips. Joel groans, “Think you can play dirty too, huh?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against him. 

“Knock yourself out,” he tells you, “You’re forgettin’ I have something you don’t – self control, my darlin’.”

You don’t care. This is more for you than it is for him, anyway. You haven’t gotten to taste him yet and it’s been on your mind. He tastes heady, salty, and slightly sweaty on your tongue. He’s warm and thick, you like the way his cock feels in your mouth. His smooth skin, how he squirms when you slide his cock to the back of your throat. 

Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand gripping his base, the other fondling his balls. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He rests the sides of his hands on your head as he plays with the controller, pushing you further down on his cock. “Last level,” he tells you. You suck him mindlessly as he plays, listening to Joel hissing expletives. You smirk with him in your mouth knowing which of his curses are directed at you and which are directed at the TV. 

Joel’s cock stiffens and twitches, he’s getting closer. You know it and so does he. “You know,” he says in a soft, warning tone, “If ya make me come, you’re shit outta luck. Can’t fuck you.”

Oh, shit. You weren’t even thinking about that. You pull your mouth off of him instantaneously, smacking your head against his controller and sending it flying out of his hands. “Fuck,” Joel barks. 

The controller lands upside down on the corner of your coffee table, the buttons hitting the edge just so, and Joel watches in horror as Mario disappears from the TV and is replaced by the main menu. 

You rub your head where you hit it on the controller, but Joel is no longer staring at the TV in disbelief. Instead, he’s looking at you. “Shit. I’m sorry, Joel,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to do that. I’m really sorry.”

You expect Joel to be angry like usual, but he instead pulls your hand away from your scalp, lowers you so he can check the area you hit and give it a kiss, then lifts your chin back up while rubbing your bump. “It was an accident,” he speaks soothingly, “Mario can wait. Are you hurting?”

“Not terribly,” you tell him. And it’s the truth. 

“No? You sure?” You shake your head no and Joel nods. He rubs your head for a little bit longer, his big brown eyes are soft and sweet and worrisome. The kindest he’s ever looked at you, kindest he’s ever been to you. And all you had to do was smack your head on his video game. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, then pulls you close and whispers quietly, “Would you still like me to fuck you? We don’t have to if you’re not up for it anymore.” 

You grin and nod your head, “Yes, please. I want it.”

“Get your ass over here, then,” Joel says as he lifts your hips and pulls your pants off, then pulls his own further down his thighs. He guides you to straddle his lap, holding his cock loosely between his middle and index fingers and his thumb. He drags his tip through your folds, then notches himself at your entrance before pulling your hips down, burying himself in you all the way to the hilt. 

You grip his shoulders and press your forehead to his own, sighing softly as you get adjusted to his girth. “I missed your cock,” you breathe, “Missed it so much.”

“I know you did, sweetheart. I missed you too.”

When you’ve adjusted, you begin to roll your hips, rubbing your clit against that soft patch of hair at the base of his cock, moaning and grunting softly, “Oh, Joel. Feels good.”

“I know it does,” he sighs as he leans forward to lift up your shirt and pulls it off of your body, then takes off his own, “That’s better.” He runs his thumbs over the soft curve of your tummy, then slides his hands up your rib cage before cupping your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples. 

The way he looks at you makes your cheeks feel hot. You lean forward to hide your face, grinding your hips into him. He holds you close to his body with his hands wrapping around your back before gripping your ass and bouncing you up and down on him, stretching and parting your insides. You allow yourself to rest against him, letting him do the work and take care of you. His cock feels incredible. So thick, so hard, hitting against all of your favorite spots. “So good, takin’ me so good, sweetheart,” he praises, “Ya always do.”

Joel squeezes your ass tighter. He can see your reflection in the TV, loving the way your body moves, how you tremble, how you rock your hips, how you whimper his name. It’s all for him. “Wanna, fuck,” he sighs, snaking his hand between your bodies as he finds your clit with his fingertips, rubbing circles around it, “Wanna make you come on my cock. Make those pretty noises for me.”

With Joel’s cock hitting you right where you need him, his fingers playing with your clit, it’s not long before your orgasm approaches. “Right there, Joel. Like that, just like that,” you moan breathlessly, “I’m gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, gimme a good one,” he says. He fucks you expertly, each of his thrusts deep and intentional. It’s all for you. He just wants to watch you come, hear you moan his name, feel you soak his cock. Your breaths quicken and your moans quiet as you near your climax, and you come with loud cries and moans. Joel pulls you close, fucking you through it as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. “Fuck,” he hisses rocking his hips into you once, twice, three more times before he comes with a groan, painting your insides with rope after rope of his hot seed. 

You fall forward, resting your face against the couch as you both catch your breath. He rests his head next to you, looking deep into your eyes before flicking his gaze to your lips, then back up to your eyes. You stare at his lips too.

“Your head still okay?” he asks, “Smacked it real good.”

“Think so.”

“Gonna keep an eye on it anyway,” Joel whispers, “What am I gonna do with you, Inglewood, hmm?”, bringing his hand to your face and rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. You’re still staring at his lips. His pink, pouting lips that have never kissed your own.

“I’m not sure,” you murmur, “What do you think?”

Joel runs his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting go, “Haven’t got a clue.”

Joel leaves you to grab a warm wash rag and clean you up, then helps you back into your clothes. He reaches for the controller and starts up Super Mario Brothers one more time, and you snuggle his bicep like before. This time, he doesn’t try to move you. 

If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask! Tell me what you thought! Support your favorite writers, we ain't doing this for free!!

No taglist! Follow @strang3stories and turn on notifs!

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #mall rats #mall rats!joel #mall rats joel

[vivwritesfics]

can you write something where lando’s gf has a bad migraine and he takes care of her? thanks!!

as someone who suffers from insanely shitty migraines wayyyyy too often I jumped at this one

There comes a point where you have so many fucking migraines that you just give up. That, no matter how bad they get, you have to suffer through it, that you can't stop everything every few weeks because of another fucking migraine.

Lando had met her before she had given up trying to take care of her migraines. She still laid in bed with water and pain killers, with the curtains drawn and the lights off, with a cold compress against her forehead.

That was years ago. Since then she'd grown sick of the constant days in bed, feeling shitty for herself. Now, she didn't tell Lando about the migraines, didn't want him to worry about a silly little headache.

She got on with her day, went to work, and suffered through. She kept her phone turned off, since the brightness did nothing but make her feel sick. She got on with things.

Her work was so fucking slow. But she couldn't go much faster since the migraine was killing her. Her bosses and co-workers noticed. There was no point in her being there if she could barely do any work.

She drove home slowly. Thank god it was the middle of the day and the roads were pretty much empty. She pulled up outside of their apartment, got out of the car and shut the door as quietly as she could. As miserable as she was to have to go home early from work, she couldn't wait to get into bed.

Lando was in the apartment, gaming, when she walked in. He was streaming, she could tell by just how loud he was being.

Shutting her eyes for just a moment, she dropped her things by the front door and walked towards the room he was in.

The room was dark aside from the light from the monitor and the strip lighting behind him. Her head immediately pounded, but she pushed through and knocked on the door.

Immediately Lando paused his game, pulled his headset off and turned towards the door. "Baby," he said as he took in the state of her. He stood from his chair and rushed towards her, pulling her into his arms and pulling her head into his chest. "Migraine?"

"Migraine," she answered and slowly nodded.

Wrapping his arms around her, Lando walked her towards their bedroom. He sat her down onto the bed and began closing the curtains. "Get into your pyjamas, I'll get you some water," he said and kissed the top of her head.

As Lando walked to the kitchen, she sat there for just a second. With the curtains closed she finally felt better. But she got herself up and got changed out of her work clothes.

Lando returned with a glass of water and two painkillers. He pulled back at the covers and she crawled beneath. "Thank you, Lan," she whispered, but he disappeared again.

She shut her eyes. Less than a minute Later Lando returned. He pressed a cold compress to her head. "I'm gonna go and finish the stream real quick."

"Hurry back," she whispered and Lando nodded his head.

He went back to the stream just to end it. The chat was asking why, but Lando wouldn't answer. He just ended the stream and returned to his girlfriend.

Lando was so considerate. He climbed into bed with her and pulled her close, letting her rest against his chest. Lando knew he snored, so he made a point to stay awake until she was fast asleep. Even then, he was hesitant. His priority was her, was to make sure she was happy and comfortable.

He loved her through her migraines.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[starrystevie]

18+ | explicit sex & smoking | read here on ao3

it's 1996 when steve's world gets turned upside down again.

or, well, technically it's a few minutes into '97 when everything changes. he's at a new years party that his ex timothy is hosting and everyone is still hooting and hollering as they ring it in, pressing sloppy kisses to cheeks and lips with arms hooked around necks.

steve doesn't get kissed. not because people aren't eyeing him with a smirk and mischief and open arms of their own. no, he doesn't let himself get kissed because something feels... off about the night. the energy is weird, buzzing through his skin like electricity, keeping him on edge in a way he hasn't been since he left hawkins for boston in the fist place.

it isn't long until he figures out why.

timmy is walking up to him with his hands on some guy's shoulders, pushing him backwards with a wide smile like he's trying to convince him of something. the guy is about his height, short cropped dark hair and a leather jacket, the sight of his back alone getting steve excited. timmy always did know his type to a t.

"hey!" timmy yells over the music as he catches steve's eye. "got someone for you to meet."

once the guy turns around, the smiles on both steve and the mystery guy's faces fall before their minds catch up with them and plaster them back together. even with the short cropped hair, even with the piercing in his eyebrow, even with the stubble spreading over his defined jaw, steve would know that face, that heartbeat, anywhere.

"steve, i wanted to introduce you to someone. jamie, this is steve, you know... the guy i was telling you about?"

timmy's trying to be helpful, not even attempting to be subtle as he pushes the two closer together with a wide grin. steve's going on autopilot, reaching out a hand to grab the one outstretched towards him, but his brain is going a million miles a minute.

"nice to meet you, steve," eddie, or... jamie, says, palm pressed tightly against his own.

steve can't say anything, focusing too much on the warmth on his palm and the way his deep voice shakes through him like thunder and the way he feels like he's 19 again with a stuttering heart.

"what are-" he starts.

eddie shakes his head and tugs on steve's hand. "not here. come on."

they end up in a secluded corner, close enough that steve can smell smoke and leather polish and the sharp bite of his cologne. close enough that he can see the lines starting to appear on the corners of eddie's eyes, the stray grey hairs popping up in his beard, the questions swirling behind his eyes.

"eddie."

"jamie," is all he says back, not even bothering to look away from steve's eyes. "it's jamie now."

they both sigh like they don't know where to start because they don't. steve grapples with all the questions in his mind before settling on one. the one that tore through him late at night. the one that stayed on the tip of his tongue anytime he heard a van backfire or metallica.

"where did you go?" he knows it sounds like an accusation because it is. he doesn't let himself feel bad when eddie (jamie) flinches.

"feds," he replies easily, sneaking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his lips. he tilts his head back to light it away from steve's face, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "once i got better, they scooped me up and brought me to boston. new name, new hairstyle, new life. at least they let me choose my name so i didn't get stuck with some thing awful."

steve snorts. "so you ended up with 'jamie' how?"

"middle name's james. it just made sense." he says it with a shrug and puffs at his cigarette again.

they look at each other for a moment. steve watches his tongue flit out of his mouth to wet his lips, watches the overhead lights glint off the metal of a surprise tongue piercing, watches his throat swallow around nothing but spit.

he can see, feel, eddie doing the same. he hams it up, pulls his lip between his teeth and makes it a show, looks back up at eddie from under his lashes. takes in a deep breath when eddie inches closer to him until their hips are bumping and steve plucks the cigarette out of his lips for a puff of his own.

he's 19 again, in love or like or lust with a boy in a leather jacket that has the world against him. he's 19 again, working a hand over himself to thoughts of his crush who up and vanished without so much as a goodbye. he's 19 again, crying after he comes, wishing he could go back in time before he met curly hair and a battle vest.

"so how do you know tim?" eddie whispers like he has to be quiet even though the part is loud and no one could hear them if they tried.

"how do you know him?" steve asks back, blowing out smoke and putting the cigarette back between eddie's barely spread lips.

his eyes flick down to look at steve's still pursed lips from when he angled the smoke over his shoulder. "we used to fuck, once upon a time when i first got to boston."

steve hums like it's the answer he expected and maybe it is. "same here. dated for about a year."

eddies eyes grow wide and his hip bumps into steve's like it's a question in and of itself and maybe it is. "didn't know you swing that way, harrington."

"well, you don't really know anything about me then, do you? didn't back then either, munson."

his eyes goes even wider, something like fear and shame and comfort and hope swimming in them. "leonard. it's leonard now."

steve hums again, says 'jamie leonard' like he's feeling it out on his tongue. tasting it between his teeth. teaching his mouth how to form the words instead of what he really wants to say like 'eddie' or 'munson' or 'i'm still somehow in love with you no matter your name'.

"jamie leonard," he says again, breath hitting eddie's lips. he shivers when he sees his lips part a bit more like he wants to swallow the sound and air that steve gives him. "we have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

steve's apartment isn't all that big, isn't exactly small either but it has everything he could possibly need. he has a living room that looks out over the harbor and a kitchen with all new appliances and eddie munson naked in his bedroom. you know, the essentials.

their clothes are all over the floor, eddie's motorcycle helmet flung somewhere in the vague direction of the armchair in the corner but the smack it makes when it hits the wall makes steve think there's probably a hole in the drywall.

but eddie's sucking on his cock, hands wrapped around his thighs as he takes him even deeper, eyes flicking up to meet steve's, beard scratchy as it rubs against his sensitive skin. he's never been blown by someone with a tongue piercing but he doesn't think he can ever go back now.

the last thing on his mind is wondering if there's a hole in the goddamn wall.

"oh fuck, yeah there you go. feels so goddamn good," steve breathes out as he feels the back of eddie's throat on his cockhead. he tangles a hand as best he can in his short dark hair to try and coax him even deeper. eddie hums at either the praise or the tug on his hair or the way it feels as he works his tongue over steve's cock and it makes him jolt unexpectedly.

if he could go back in time and tell his 19 year old self that eddie was alive, that he was okay and breathing and learning how to suck cock like a goddamn professional, he'd do it in a heartbeat. save himself a few years of pining and fly straight out to boston to see it for himself. he's sure robin would have preferred to not have to listen to his whining everyday about brown eyes and dark curls.

eddie brings a hand to cup his balls, finger teasingly pressing into steve's taint, bobbing his head eagerly like he wants him to come in his mouth, but steve has other plans. he tugs eddie off of his cock quickly, lines of thick spit falling between them and sticking to his chin before crowding him up against the pillows.

steve kisses like he's dying and eddie is survival. he kisses him like he is drowning and eddie is the shore that he's clawing his way towards. he kisses him like 19 year old steve could only dream about.

soon enough, steve's sliding into him with a groan that he lets eddie swallow from him. the headboard knocks heavily into the wall a few times making even more possible holes, but all steve can focus on is the heat around him, the way eddie's whines bounce off the walls of his too empty bedroom and cover him like a blanket.

he likes fucking this way. he likes being able to watch as someone's face contorts into pleasure, like to see eyes rolling back and mouths dropping open and sweat beading around their hairline. likes seeing eddie fall apart.

"steve, oh my god," eddie's voice is still deeper than he's used to as he moans so he angles his hips up more to hear it again, the low timbre snaking through his veins and leaving fire in its wake. "don't stop."

"i won't," he groans into eddie's open mouth. "wanted this for so long, for fucking 11 years, not giving you up yet."

it's a bit more open than steve normally is when he first fucks someone but this isn't just someone. this isn't fucking a stranger he picked up in a bar that had almost the right shade of brown eyes and patches on his jacket that are almost the right shape. this is eddie. his eddie. or well... jamie.

"fuck, i'm gonna date you so fucking hard, harrington. yeah, right there keep going, shit-"

he's babbling as steve works his hips faster, tangling their free hands together to press above their heads on a pillow, and it's everything steve could have asked for. hearing his name fall from the lips he's dreamed about for years, sharing the same air as they breath into one another.

he thought he was over it, thought he had moved on at least a little bit from a halfway stranger he knew in his teens, but with the way they're both looking straight into each other's eyes begging each other to see them, he thinks they might both be back in 1986.

"what do-" steve cuts himself off as he whimpers, close, so close to the finish line. "what do you want me to call you? is it jamie or-"

he's shaking his head on the pillow, leaning up to bite at steve's lips and pull it between his teeth. he looks serious and certain when he says, "no, that name's not for you, it's... i need-"

steve brings his hand down to work over his cock and revel in the way his eyes roll back until he can only see white. he hits something that makes his eyes fly back open and he gets to see his favorite shade of brown again.

"eddie," he whispers. leaning down quickly, steve presses a kiss to his ear before whispering his favorite name there too. "eddie, baby, come on. let me... come on, eddie."

it feels silly to be chanting a name of a ghost as intensely as he is. but he can see it crawl over eddie like it's bringing him back to life. like he isn't bones on the ground in an alternate dimension. like he isn't a plain headstone in a graveyard next to a forgotten trailer park. like he isn't playing pretend with a fake name and a fake life.

steve says eddie and it brings him home.

afterwards, they lay together in steve's probably too soft bed, tears drying on both of their cheeks as they catch up. as they tell each other secrets that their younger selves could never dare. as the piece together the lives they have and the lives they want to have and slot each other into the mix.

steve has a hand in eddie's hair, eddie has one trailing over steve's arm that's slung over his chest. he's always been a fan of cuddling after sex.

"y'know," eddie mutters, "tim's been trying to get me to meet his hot teacher friend for months now."

steve hums, presses a kiss to his temple. "and he's been trying to get me to meet his hot motorcycle tech for months, too."

there are a few holes in the walls from the headboard and eddie's helmet, but steve thinks that they can patch those up, too.

he's still jamie leonard to the outside world. he's still a guy who doesn't have much family other than a mysterious uncle in indiana and doesn't have many friends other than ex boyfriends. he still introduces himself with a handshake and says a fake name like it's real.

but when he gets home, when he crawls onto a couch that overlooks the harbor and has arms wrapped around him, he gets to be eddie munson once more. and with the ghost of a man in his arms, steve harrington feels more like himself than he ever thought he would.

#this was going to be something entirely different but i couldn't stop myself so.... here u go #steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie smut #unedited so pls ignore any typos teehee

[slvttyplum]

𐙚⋆.˚ distraction| choso kamo

synopsis: you’re not being so good but choso still gives you what you’re craving.

contents: bimbo!reader, nerd!choso, smut.

choso adjusted himself in his chair, looking at the bright computer screen, numbers shinning off the glass, and squinting at the bright words and numbers.

his hand sliding over to his mouse, the arrow nowhere to be found. he shakes the mouse a couple of times, then lifts it up, turning it around.

the red light not there, looking over at you on his bed with your legs thrown behind you, kicking your feet.

then looking down at the outlet beside the desk and seeing a phone cord snaking to his bed and the mouse cord on the floor.

shaking his head, he lets out an aggravated sigh before getting up, unplugging the lamp cord, and plugging up his mouse.

“heyyy! i needed that.” you whine out, turning around on the bed quickly, looking at him. he looks at you, then back at the computer, shaking the mouse.

“you can’t get both things; it’s either the lamp or the charger.” he mutters out, not wanting to even converse at the moment.

you begged and begged and begged to come over, and he finally lets it happen because... it’s you, but all you do is create chaos and whine.

yeah you were cute, but what else? what the hell was he thinking? you’re his girlfriend of 3 years, for fuck sake; get it together, choso.

you jump out of bed, tossing your phone on the mattress, and walk behind choso, leaning over his shoulder and squinting at the screen.

his hands are working on the keyboard and mouse so fast, which is impressive. your mouth in the shape of an “o” holding your arm out and tapping the screen.

“what does that mean?” you coo still squinting; squinting doesn’t automatically make things make sense.

choso sighs, grabbing your wrist and rolling his chair out, pulling you towards him. his legs spread out.

grabbing your hips and placing you into his lap roughly, a headache entering his head. you were distracting.

“why can’t you just be a good girl and stay out of the way?" his voice was deep but soft, and his dark eyes looked directly into your big ones.

a pout on your mouth when he says those words, what? you were just asking a question: what had him so tight today?

“i am; telling me to stay out of the way isn’t nice.” his eyes sliding off of yours and turning the chair back to the computer screen, sliding into the desk.

“what way do you want me to put it?” his voice low, removing his hands from your hips and putting them back on the keyboard, clicking away.

as he clicks away, your eyes scan the side of his face, and you move back and forth on his lap. so pretty, you thought to yourself.

he washed his hair a couple of hours ago, so his dark locks were a little frizzy, the glow from the computer illuminating his glasses.

a smile appearing on your face as you reach your hand out, cupping his jaw and rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

“my pretty boy.” you whisper, still lightly moving on his leg, a little more intensely now.

choso’s eyes are still fixed on the computer screen, but he can feel you moving, your core digging into his thigh, and his typing getting slower.

little affirmative whispers slipping out of your mouth as you’re dazed out, fixed on the beauty in front.

you’re so into your own thoughts, not noticing the pool of arousal set beneath your panties, choso could feel it all, though.

the little heartbeat your pussy has pulsing on him, and you practically shaking and dazing out, making him hard.

your hand mindlessly traveling to the middle of the thighs, rubbing your aching core, his beauty unmatched.

“baby.” choso whispers out, not sure what to do. on one hand, he wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you, but on the other, he didn’t want to bother you.

a tiny lump sliding up your throat and coming out a moan, your eyes watering from you not blinking, pleasure building up between your legs.

you didn’t reply, just small whispers to yourself about how good he looked, a little drool peeking out the side of your mouth.

your fingers digging into your clothed pussy, as your eyes go in and out trying to make out his face.

the grip on his jaw loosens as the pleasure between your thighs gets more and more achy.

“do you need help?" choso says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he begins to shake his leg, the vibration and bounce sending you to mars.

your knees hitting together as you get overwhelmed with pleasure, his eyes darting to you and the screen in front of him.

pathetic, on his thigh, whimpering and moaning like a puppy. he couldn’t just let you continue like that.

his hands sliding off the keyboard and onto your hips, one of his hands sliding down to your leg, bringing it to the other side of him.

now you’re on his lap, face him, his bulge pushing into your aching heat, the pulsing only getting faster.

“i’m at your service... use me.” he couldn’t even get the last words out before you fumbled over his sweatpant strings and pulled them down, popping out his length.

pre-cum sliding down his shaft as you prop yourself up, lining up with him as you bring your shorts and panties to the side.

not wasting any precious seconds to slip them off.

his tip grazing your pussy.

choso’s hands are firm on your hips as you wobble, trying to line yourself up, and his eyes are directly on yours.

finally lined up correctly, you waste no time pushing down all the way onto his cock; your slick wall’s instantly clamping onto him.

a sharp moan sliding out past choso’s lip, his eyes squinting rather than opening, your arms wrapping around his neck, and your face in the crook of his neck.

“so… mm good.” you moan out into his neck, choso looking behind you and sliding into his desk more, removing his hands from your hips and putting them on his keyboard.

“yeah? tell me how good you feel.” he grunts out, typing on his keyboard, your body going up and down from his peripheral, trying to focus on the screen.

the keys bouncing up and down with the rhythm you were going, his mind losing thought but trying to concentrate.

he couldn’t win for losing; even when you were in his lap, you needed more and were never satisfied with what he gave you.

the pleasure erupting inside you was too much, yet you needed more. his fingers were still bouncing on the keys like you were bouncing on his dick.

“i feel so good... mm, just deep.” you say, not being able to make out any more words at the moment.

his glasses moving as your body is pushing up against him, the grip around his neck getting tighter, but he’s not budging.

tiny moans releasing out past your lips one after another, the intense pleasure choso was filling was so much he needed to focus.

give you what you wanted and get his work done.

his fingers jolting every time he presses the key, his body getting hotter and his head getting fuzzy, your whimpers sliding through his ears.

“can you be a good girl and quiet down for me? hm?” his words are coming out softer than before, and your ass is coming down on his lap harder.

his dick curving hitting your weak spot, your body clenching up, your walls firm around his cock.

your hand covering up your mouth, trying to quiet down, slowly lowering your hand, and pushing your body down again.

“yes… mm, sorry... feels so good.” you whine out, the pleasure getting so intense you’re sure to explode.

“don’t be sorry, baby; this is all you know.” he mutters the last part, knowing you would get upset; he didn’t mean it in a malicious way.

lump after lump getting caught in your throat the more you try to hold down your moans, your eyes watery from how hard you were covering your mouth.

your pussyclenching into his dick, squeezing his tip so hard, he found himself mindlessly moaning and getting blurry eyes trying to focus.

the more you clamp down on him, the closer you get to a knot with a thousand butterflies swarming around your stomach.

your body was moving on its own; you were only receiving the pleasure from his big dick carving into you.

leaving his shape, imprint, and cum behind inside you, just as you liked it. being used by him and him only.

he “mm m cum.” you whine out, trying to let out the words you were going to cum, but the little words you knew got shadowed out by the pleasure.

his dick twitching and pulsing inside of you, the waves of pleasure flowing through both of your heated bodies.

a quiet, muffled moan sliding past your lips as you thrust down one final time, clamping around his dick.

choso’s eyes squinted shut as his fingers hestitated going to the next key, his dick pulsing and pumping cum into you.

“i want your cum.” you whine out, your head snuggling into his neck with comfort as you feel his seed slowly trickle out of you.

“i know you do pretty girl... i know.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #choso #choso x you #choso smut #jujutsu choso #choso x y/n #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #bimbo!reader #nerd!choso

[keerysfreckles]

hiii!!!! lando and best friend reader and shes gotten into one of those sad days because shes thinking of how shes never dated anyone or had her first kiss or anything. and he offers to take her out on a date as friends and thats when he realizes hes in love with her (shes been in love with him this whole time). but they dont really say anything, but they just get increasingly more affectionate as best friends as the days go by. and everyone around them can see theyre so in love with each other - 🍒anon

loveless — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, slight swearing

a/n: lando p5 in japan HE WAS SO CLOSE TO BEING ON PODIUM

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n loved her small apartment in monaco. she loved it so much in fact that she's convinced her best friend that she's fine staying in day after day.

however if you got to know y/n, you'd learn this is out of the ordinary for the girl. usually she'd be out partying with lando, or hanging around the other members of the f1 grid. not sulking in her bathrobe and pajamas for three days in a row.

on the fourth day she recieved multiple texts from her best friend, lando norris, asking if she wanted to go out for drinks with him and a couple of friends.

y/n groaned, after reading the messages more than once. she really didn't have the energy to go out. not since her almost date last week didn't go as planned.

she met a rather attractive uni student on tinder, and they talked for a few days to get to know each other. less than a week later they planned to have dinner at a nice monegasque restaurant.

long story short, said tinder date never showed up, and never texted y/n the next morning explaining himself.

before the 'date' y/n didn't really believe in love. so of course, this screwed up with her perception of it even more.

lando was informed about the date, and was happy for y/n. he knew her history of falling in love was bleak, and he just wanted to be happy for her. so seeing his best friend wrapped up in three colorful blankets in her messy bedroom put a damper in his mood.

"what did i tell you about laying in the dark?" lando's voice surprises y/n. she jumps, before pausing her netflix show on her laptop.

"lan? what are you doing here?" she sits up, her eyes adjusting to the light lando just turned on.

lando sits on the edge of the bed, moving the laptop away from y/n, causing her to sit up as well.

"well you never answered my texts about going out tonight, so i figured i'd come here. plus you gave me that apartment key years ago."

y/n sighs. she knows she doesn't have the energy to go out tonight. "do i have to?"

lando sends y/n a sympathetic look. "maybe it could get your mind off that douche who stood you up last week. he obviously missed out on getting to know a great girl."

y/n's heart warmed at lando's words. he always knew how to cheer her up after she fell down.

y/n lets out a groan and falls back onto her pillows, her blankets encasing her once again.

"what if i never fall in love?" y/n thinks out loud. "or never go on a proper date? or mever even have my first kiss?"

lando's eyebrows furrow, "you've never had your first kiss?"

y/n takes the opportunity to kick his thigh, "yes shitbird, you know this." she lets out a small chuckle as he groans from the attack.

lando recalls her words again, "wait you've never been on a date either?"

y/n shakes her head, "nope."

"so that's why you're so beat up about this one not working out. i get it now," lando stands and walks towards y/n's opened closet door.

y/n sits up again, "lando what are you doing? i told you i don't feel like going out tonight."

lando ignores her for a moment as he continues sifting through her closet. his eyes and hands stop on a light purple dress.

"you still have this?" he holds it at an angle so y/n can see from her bed.

she nods, "of course. i've never gotten rid of any birthday present from you."

lando silently takes it off the hanger and throws it on the bed, making y/n confused.

"you and i are going out tonight," lando says confidently. "i'm taking you on a proper date. i'll text pierre, charles and carlos that i'll go out with them some other time."

y/n stares at him dumbfounded. she can't believe lando is taking her out on a date.

"when you say a proper date, what exactly does that entail?" y/n wonders, now removing her blankets from her body.

lando starts looking through y/n's very impressive shoe collection. "a very nice drive to an expensive restaurant, possinly with a candle lit dinner. you and i enjoying the best monegasque food we can. and maybe end the date with a classic near-the-front-door kiss."

y/n's taken back by his words again. she can't believe what she's hearing.

lando places a pair of white heels beside the dress on the bed, and leans forward slightly. "i'll be waiting in your living room, okay?" and with that, he kisses her forehead. the motion's been done a million times, but this time however felt different for the both of them.

y/n stares at her now closed bedroom door, and chuckles in disbelief while picking up the dress. maybe this was the push she needed to get out there again. party with her friends, and maybe go on more dates.

so she did as lando told. she was quick to brush through her hair, and change into the dress and heels. she styled it with silver jewelry and made sure to grab her small handled clutch before leaving her room.

lando stands from the couch. "now i think you look much better in this, than being covered in blankets."

y/n blushes at his words.

"do you have an idea of where we're going?" she locks her apartment door behind her, before lando leads her down the stairs with his hand on her lower back.

—

lando was starstuck.

during the ride to the restaurant, all the way up until they got the bill. (of course being the gentleman he is, he paid.)

he could barely take his eyes off y/n. he saw them shimmer as she spoke about her new job starting this month. he noticed how excited she got when he parked outside her favorite fancier restaurant.

now he was holding her heels for her, after giving her his jacket once the midnight air hit her skin. they were walking along the streets of monaco, planning on doing a little wrap around the block to get back to lando's car.

as the duo was talking and walking, they're arms kept brushing against each others. y/n couldn't help but giggle almost everytime, thanks to the white wine slowly making it's way in her system from dinner.

lando thought it was the best sound in the world.

on the way back to y/n's apartment, lando contemplated resting his hand over her thigh. she sat towards him, angling her body, so in theory he easily could hold onto her leg. however he refrained, but his heartbeat sped up when he felt y/n grab his right hand. she played with his fingers, and ending up enclosing her hand in his. he hummed at the feeling.

"so, we've done almost everything on my list to get you to have a perfect date," lando speaks as the pair stops right in front of y/n's door.

"what are we missing?" y/n asks, forgetting what he had stated earlier in the evening.

lando smiles down at the girl, his pupils dilating. "in order for you to have a perfect date, we have to have a near-the-front-door kiss."

y/n instantly blushes. she's thought about kissing lando before, but never thought any of her daydreams would become a reality.

lando steps forward and places his unoccupied hand on her pink cheek. he runs his thumb over the skin, and notices her pupils becoming wider.

"so what do you say?" lando almost whispers, the rasp in his voice becoming evident.

y/n looks between his eyes, and can't come up with a complete sentence as her mind falls blank.

silently y/n stands on her tip toes and grabs lando's face between her hands. she brings him down to her to connect their lips.

his taste like chocolate, from the slice of cake he ordered for dessert. hers taste like sugar and cinnamon from the cocktail she had at the end of the night.

lando brings his other hand around to y/n's back. she can't help but smile against his lips at the feeling of his arm around her. in the hundreds of times she's pictured kissing her best friend, it never ended like this.

the two finally pulled away, both of their cheeks blushed and pupils wide.

they both let out a rather large breath, and in the span of three seconds, y/n's opening her apartment door with lando following right on her tail. before they can fully step inside, lando's lips meet hers again, and lando definitely plans on spending the night.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x fem reader #lando norris x fem!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader

[thesecretwriter]

LOVED the fanfic about Miguel. I need one with him being feral at the thought of wife!reader leaving him because he is being neglectful and is almost never home with her. Please, please, pleaseeee. I would love to read this.

P.S add smut if you want to😗

home is where you are (part 1) - miguel o’hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!female reader

warnings: angst – reader tells miguel she needs a break from his absence, fluff – I think is it?? , smut – minors dni. smutty undertones, no smut described but miguel is being suggestive.

summary: in which y/n, wife of Miguel O’hara finds herself spending more time in an empty apartment that in the company of the man she chose to spend the rest of her life with.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: thank you for the request anon, I enjoyed writing it. I didn’t write smut bc the fic was already long and I am a bit tired, butttt maybe a part 2??

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists  

part 1, part 2, part 3

"I’m home, mi luz,"

The nickname he has reserved for you tugs at your heart. He explained to you that you were the light in the darkness that consumed his heart within the chaos of being Spiderman.

You look in the direction of Miguel's voice and sigh "well, that's a first," you mutter to yourself before getting off the couch walking towards Miguel.

You had spent the whole day rehearsing what you were going to say to Miguel.

You lean against the counter as Miguel leaves the packet with a logo from a Chinese take away not far from your shared apartment.

Miguel approaches you, his eyes dark and intense. His expression is unreadable, but you can feel a sense of discomfort growing within you.

"Did you miss me mi corazón?" he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your body as he comes closer to you.

"Well, for me to answer that question you would have to be around enough for me to miss you. So, no I did not miss you," you say, upset that he had the audacity to question if you miss him when he is not even at home most of the time.

You stay where you are leaning against the counter with your arms folded. Miguel takes this as an opportunity to cage you between his arms as he towers over you.

His eyes are fixed on you. He leans forward till he is a few centimetres away from you.

"You know that's not true mi luz. You miss me. And I miss you too, baby. I've been thinking a lot about you all day." he says, his tone suggestive and a glint of desire in his eyes.

"If you were thinking of me so much, then maybe you would be home more often. I've been wanting to talk to you about something..." you trail off nervous and avoiding eye contact with him. Miguel picks up the change of your attitude and tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

Any other day you would think that it was adorable of him to do such a thing, but now it ticked you off that he was so oblivious.

Miguel notices your nervousness and his expression turns serious. "What is it? What do you want to talk about, y/n?" he asks, his voice firm. The use of your first name is your first warning of Miguel being serious.

He is still leaning in close to you, however, you can now tell that he is tense from your nervousness.

"I want to take some time off... from us," you blurt out, wanting to get this conversation over with. Miguel takes in your words.

You want to take a break from him? the one who has the weight of the world on his shoulders. His brows furrow in confusion, but also anger.

Miguel moves closer to you, his body now pressed against yours. He leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Why would you want to do that, mi vida? Don't you know how much I love you?" he whispers, his lips dangerously close to your skin.

His taunting is what gets to you. Here you are trying to tell him what you needed, and he is retaliating by trying to seduce you.

"I don't feel your love anymore Miguel. You're barely home. I wake up, you're not here. I go to sleep, you're not here. Sometimes you even leave in the middle of night when I'm asleep. I understand that the spider society is important to you, but once upon a time so was this relationship. I cannot keep living like this by having moments with you." you say, getting angrier as you speak.

Miguel notices the unshed tears in your eyes.

Miguel's expression softens for a moment as he looks into your eyes, seeing the pain and tears hidden behind them.

He knows he's been distant lately, but that's all because he's been putting in more time fighting crime around the city as Spiderman and travelling to other dimensions to help other Spider-Man/women.

"I'm sorry, mi luz. I promise to make it up to you. I'll take some time off, for just the two of us." he says, his voice sincere as he tries to reason with you.

"And then what? while we're spending time together, you'll get called into HQ and will leave me alone. It’s happened before Miguel. I already packed enough clothes for me to spend a week with at a friend’s house," You put your hands on his chest to push him away and go to get your phone to call your friend to pick you up.

Miguel feels his chest tighten at the thought of having you away from him. You're slipping through his fingers, and he must do something about it before he loses you completely.

Miguel takes a step forward, blocking your path to the phone. His eyes flash with anger.

"You're not going anywhere, y/n. You're delusional if you think I'm just going to sit back and let you leave me. We're married, you made a vow to me. Do you know how hard I've been working to protect this city and the people in it? Do you have any idea how much pressure I'm under?" he says, his voice rising in frustration.

Before you can respond, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him. He presses himself against you, his hands roaming over your body as he begins to kiss you. You try to resist and push him away, but he's too strong. He continues to kiss you until you finally give in, allowing him to lead you to the bedroom.

You pour all your emotion into the kiss, letting him feel the heartbreak and anguish you have every time he forgets about you.

You're too consumed in the kiss to notice that Miguel is already beginning to take off his clothes. He breaks the kiss to take of your shirt and you see that as an opportunity to interrupt him.

"Miguel stop, not everything can be fixed with-" his lips stop you from speaking as he goes back to kissing you. All you're left in is your bra and panties, which Miguel still feels is too much of clothing.

You feel his lips trailing kisses down your neck as his palms knead at your breasts. His talons poking you ever so lightly, but it’s nothing you haven't felt before.

Your moans only urge Miguel on. He thinks back to the moment he saw the unshed tears in your eyes, the moment you almost left him.

Soon, he comes to the revelation that the only way to keep you here, with him - is to breed you.

It's something you and him have previously discussed. However, with him being away so much, it slipped his mind how he wanted nothing more than to watch you bare his child.

Miguel continues to kiss you passionately, his touch becoming rougher as he begins to undress you completely. He pins you down on the bed, his muscles exposed in the dimly lit room. You can see the taut muscles in his arms as he looms over you.

"Don't fight it, mi luz. I'm giving you what you've always wanted from me," he says, his voice low and husky.

Miguel continues to hold you down and have his way with you. You can't bring yourself to fight resist him anymore, your lips move with his and you feel the spark that is always present within you when Miguel kisses you.

For a moment, you see a glimpse of the caring and loving man you married. He is still there, underneath all the coldness that has consumed him.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o’hara smut #angst #fluff #smut

[nanamikeento]

im a mess (but im the mess that you wanted)

s.: you've been with nanami for few months, but he never stays the night. could he be lying to you? (or: the one where you find out about nanami's secret) (nanami kento x f!reader

w.c.: 5.6k (i got carried away srry)

t.: suggestive at the beginning, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, smut at the end! see spoiler tags on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

His lips trace your neck in gentle kisses, body still glued to yours, sweat glistening on his skin. The sheets on your bed are soaked, but you don’t mind as his body is on top of yours and he looks down at you with his beautiful brown eyes and smiles softly.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking his thumb on your cheek, looking into your eyes. You lean in and kiss him, the dizziness from your pleasure fading away.

“Yes,” you answer, smiling, “that was amazing, as always.”

Nanami laughs softly, a light shade of pink painting his cheekbones.

“Come on, let's clean up.”

It's been five months since you've been seeing your coworker, Kento Nanami.

It's easy to be with Nanami, you found out. He doesn't mind your unorganized self. He doesn't care if your makeup is smudged or if your hair is tangled. He even told you he liked it. Although you have to pretend nothing is happening between you and him at work, he often gives you rides back home at the end of the day. He invites you out often, and takes you to the fanciest restaurants in the city, usually at night.

“Will you stay the night?” You ask as he pulls you up by the wrists.

He looks at you and seems to think for a moment.

“I can't. Sorry.”

You can see his shoulders sag a little as your heart sinks.

“Okay.” You whisper and stand up, walking towards your bathroom. Then, he calls your name, making you turn around to face him. His brown eyes meet yours, almost taking your breath away.

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. It's clear that he's nervous, that he wants to say something, but he just sighs quietly.

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

A smile spreads across your lips, even though you want to cry. “Of course.”

You watch as he nods and then enters the bathroom.

He never stays the night. He never invites you to his apartment either. He never asks you out during the week, or on your days off.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had a wife.

The thought makes you gasp out loud, the sound covered by the water of the shower. But what if he had a wife and you're just his mistress? What if he had a family, someone waiting for him every night while he fucks you into oblivion in your bed?

You suddenly feel sick. You have to ask him, you have to know. It makes too much sense. It would explain why he never takes you to a picnic, or invites you to lunch.

When you leave the bathroom, hair up in a bun and a soft towel wrapped around you, you see that he changed the sheets and made your bed while you were in the shower. He's dressing his clothes in a hurry, phone in hand.

“You're not gonna shower?” you ask, watching as he hastily buttons his shirt.

“No, sorry. Something came up.” He says, looking up at you.

You look at the clock on your nightstand. It's two in the morning. What does he mean something came up? Your heart only sinks further. No words are exchanged while he finishes dressing and gives you a kiss, before leaving.

“I'll call you tomorrow, alright?” he says at your doorstep. Tomorrow is Saturday.

You nod, “Take care.”

After he leaves, you put on the massive t-shirt you call pajamas and hop into your bed.

It's only when you rest your head on the pillow, that the tears come.

…

He doesn't call you all weekend. And doesn't show up at work on Monday.

You resist the urge to text him. Part of you doesn't want him to be in trouble with his hypothetical wife, even though he's the one who's allegedly cheating. The thoughts drown you and you can’t focus on your work.

On Tuesday, he shows up looking like death. Dark, deep, bags are under his eyes and an exhausted look on his face. He doesn’t meet your eyes, not right away. It doesn’t soothe your anxieties when a coworker teases you about wearing mismatched shoes to work – your head was so jumbled in the morning that you didn’t realize you grabbed two similar shoes that belonged to different pairs – and he interrupts the interaction, telling them to go back to work. 

Later, near your usual smoke break, you get a text message from him.

You okay?

Swallowing, you take a deep breath, trying to push away all doubts and questions, you type an answer:

Yeah. Meet me at the roof in 10?

Of course.

When you push the door to the roof open, he’s already there. The sunlight momentarily blinds you, a contrast to the artificial lights of the office. You walk towards him, hands shaking. He looks at you, once you’re near enough, and smiles, letting out a relieved breath. His hands reach for you, pulling into a tight embrace. It’s like he’s relieved to finally get a moment alone with you. It warms your heart and it makes you forget about your worries for a second.

“You didn’t call,” you say, wrapping your arm around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He buries his face on your neck, inhaling your scent. The scent of your deodorant and something he can’t describe, but it smells like you , “Had a family emergency. This weekend was crazy.”

“Oh.”

A family emergency.

That could mean anything. Maybe his brother was in an accident, or his grandmother tripped and fell, or his cousin got sick, or… Or he has a family, and you’re just a secret. Just a way for Nanami to release his stress from work and then go back to the family waiting for him, lie in bed with the woman he actually loves.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you hear your own voice asking,

“Are you married?”

Nanami’s body tenses before he releases you, searching your eyes.

“What?”

“Are you married?” You repeat, vision going blurry now. When he doesn't respond, you continue, “I mean, you– you never stay the night,” great, now you’re sobbing, “and you never invite me to come over, and– and–” your eyes are like an open faucet, “and you didn’t call me on Sunday and didn’t come yesterday, so, please, if I’m just your mistress, please tell me.” You sob, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan, “Please.”

Kento cups your cheek and wipes your tears, looking into your eyes.

“I’m not married,” he responds and then pulls you in a hug, kissing your hair and tucking your head under his chin, “I’m sorry my actions made you believe I was.”

You sniffle, feeling stupid now, “Okay.”

After a brief pause, he speaks again, “Would you like to come over tonight? For dinner?”

You look at him, pulling away from his embrace, “Kento, I didn’t mean–”

“I know.” He interrupts you, “I still want you to come.”

Nanami’s eyes are warm and he doesn’t care that you’re a snotty mess right now. So you nod, looking away from his perfect face. He pinches your chin gently, bringing your gaze back to him and then presses his lips against yours. Your heart leaps.

He’s never kissed you in the office before. Well, technically, you’re outside, but he never showed a sign of affection like this out of fear someone would catch the both of you. Somehow, you’re not worried about that.

“Meet me at the garage floor when you clock out.”

…

“I’d like you to meet someone,” Nanami says, as you click your seatbelt off.

The ride to his apartment was filled with soft conversation, but when you entered the apartment complex garage, he spoke with a careful voice, as if he was afraid of your reaction.

“Oh?” You wonder what's this about, since he said he wasn't married.

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button to the second to last floor, placing a hand on your lower back. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, as you get closer to his apartment. Then he guides you to the door, inserting a key and opening it.

“Papa!” a flash of pink hair runs towards Kento and hugs his legs.

“You're home early– oh.” A second voice makes you look up from the little boy attached to Nanami.

A teenage boy with dark hair stares at you. Then, Nanami calls your name.

“This is Yuuji, my son,” he says, “and that's Choso, his brother.”

You don't know where to look. To the little boy in Kento’s arms, or to the grumpy teenager that's staring with suspicious eyes at you. Nanami then introduces you to the boys. Yuuji smiles politely, but you can tell he's a bit shy.

“Um… hi,” you say, looking at them.

Choso scoffs, “That explains a lot.”

“Choso–” Nanami starts but the boy just waves a hand at him.

“Yeah,  I know. I have to go, though. Got too much homework to do and this little devil kept me busy.” He ruffles his brother's hair who giggles. Then he looks at you, “Nice to meet you. Your shoes are mismatched.”

You look down at your feet, even though you know you have different shoes.

“Choso.” Nanami sighs, “Be nice to your mother.”

The boy just waves a hand at him. You look back at Nanami and Yuuji.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks, smiling. Yuuji looks at you curiously, but still apprehensive, clinging to his dad's shirt and tilting his head until it rests on Nanami’s shoulder.

Oh, fuck.

You feel so stupid right now. He clearly has a family, but he doesn't have… a wife? Choso has a mother, so he’s only Nanami’s? Then why is he leaving?

Sensing your confusion, Nanami touches your arm. “I'll explain everything. Come inside.”

For some reason, you oblige. His apartment is big as you enter the foyer and observe the living room.

“You have to take your shoes off.” Yuuji’s voice stops you from taking another step into the apartment. You look at him, surprised.

“Of course,” you answer, toeing off your – mismatched – heels, revealing the chipped black nail polish on your toenails.

Should you have dressed better for this? Maybe if he told you beforehand…

No, this isn't fair on him. You're the one who cornered him and asked about his personal life.

“Are you feeling better?” Nanami's voice is soft as he talks to his son, walking inside the apartment. It hardly seems like the man who talks obscenities to you in bed.

Suddenly, you feel like an intruder. His home is clean, neat, save from a few toys on the living room floor. The open kitchen is pristine, it seems like the counters and stove were cleaned with one of those expensive products your mom used to use at home. The massive TV is turned on, on some children's program.

Panic sets in your throat. He has a son, a family. And you’ve… you've never wanted kids. You're not good with them, they don't smile at you when you talk to them, always hiding behind their parents. You're too serious, too stiff, for them.

Kento calls your name and you look up at him, blurry vision. He's got a concerned look on his face.

“Yuuji, why don't you go get your new shoes to show our guest?” He sets the kid down, who nods and runs to another room – his bedroom, you suppose. Kento approaches you, gently taking your hand and maintaining eye contact with you.

“I'm sorry,” he says, “I should've told you.”

“No, no!” You're quick to say, “I– I shouldn't have…”

“Asked?” he finishes the sentence for you, “Sweet girl, it’s perfectly understandable why you asked.”

Your heart skips a beat at the endearing name. He cups your cheek, pressing his lips on your forehead.

“Kento… I’m not good with kids…”

He smiles at you, “Don’t worry. You’ll find out that Yuuji is easy to impress.”

As if on cue, Yuuji runs back to the living room and ends up tripping on his own feet, falling to the ground. You gasp, expecting tears, but he just stands up and resumes his run to you.

“Look!” He stomps on the floor and his shoes light up, colorful lights blinking.

You raise your brows, actually impressed by them.

“Oh, wow. That's… actually kinda cool.” 

Nanami smiles softly at you, even though you're not looking. You didn't force a baby voice, or crouched down to meet Yuuji's eyes, but the sincerity in your voice is real.

“What do you want to eat?” Kento asks you, carefully.

“Ramen!” Yuuji says, giving you a toothy grin.

Nanami snorts, scooping him up quickly. “I didn't ask you !”

Yuuji giggles loudly as his father holds him upside down, Nanami smiling at the sound. You've never seen him smile like that.

“Ramen is fine, actually,” you say and they stop, looking at you for a second before Kento puts Yuuji down.

“Go put your toys away, Yuuji.” He commands, voice soft and calm. Looking back at you, the man approaches, hesitantly takes your hands, and pulls you further inside the apartment, “He got sick on the weekend. I had Choso take care of him, but he got worse on Saturday night and we had to rush him to urgent care.”

You feel your eyes widening, eyeing the kid gathering his toys in the living room.

“His fever broke yesterday morning, but I decided to take the day off just to be sure.” Nanami continued.

“Oh.” If you felt stupid before, now you feel like an idiot. The guilt blooms inside your chest, making you swallow hard and look away. And, with a tiny voice, one you don’t expect him to hear, you say, “I’m such an idiot.”

To your surprise, he laughs softly, cupping your cheeks and kissing your eyebrow.

“You aren’t.” He pulls you in an embrace, “You couldn’t have known.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, though.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his suit. Nanami’s fingers intertwine in your hair, so, so gently. So different from what you’ve experienced with him. The action makes a soft, fuzzy feeling jump inside you.

“It’s alright.” He then pulls away from you and smiles. “I would’ve too.”

You blink at him as he turns around and enters the open kitchen, leaving you to think about his words. If the situation was reversed, if you had a kid that the man you were hooking up with didn’t know about it, you’d be sure he wouldn’t bat an eyelash about it.

But you’re talking about Kento Nanami here.

The stoic, cold faced, man that is your coworker. The man who always focuses on the tasks that need to be done. The man that’s showing you he cares, that he’s soft, a totally different side of him, and, little by little, tearing down the walls around your heart, making you feel… special.

A little hand pulling on yours interrupts your train of thought and you look down to see Yuuji pulling you to the living room.

“Do you want to see my new toys?” He asks, already urging you to sit down in front of the coffee table.

“S-sure.” You look back at Nanami, but his back is turned to the living room.

There are a bunch of plastic toys scattered on the table: little trucks and cars, plastic bugs and dinosaurs and a few superhero figurines. He looks very proud of his collection, smiling and looking at your reaction as he shows you the things his dad and big brother gave to him.

Then, he hands you a toy phone. You reluctantly pick it up.

“Nanamis’ office, how can I help you?” You say into the fake phone, making Yuuji laugh, “oh, he’s not available right now, his schedule is pretty tight– Sir, please calm down, no need to yell.” Yuuji laughs more, but your face is so serious that Kento wonders how you do it, “Alright, sir, I’ll ask, just a moment.” You place a hand on the ‘receiver’ and look back at Yuuji, “Sorry, Yuuji, but Mark from sales wants to speak with you, do you have time?” he has a toothy grin plastered on his face. You resume your fake conversation, “Uh, he’s really busy, doing important things, you’ll have to call later. Would you like to leave a message?”

A deep laugh interrupts your play and you look up to see Kento smiling at you. Your cheeks burn as you put the fake phone down.

“You’re funny.” Yuuji says, leaning on your side. You look back at him.

“Thank you.”

Kento, then, places a sousplat on the coffee table, following with a bowl of ramen in front of you. He does the same for him and Yuuji, warning the boy about the temperature. The little boy sits between you and Kento, happily grabbing the spoon and scooping the warm liquid. You watch as he brings the spoon to Kento and waits for him to blow on the food.

Your heart does that funny thing again.

Deciding to ignore it, you take the spoon and bring the soup from the ramen to your lips. The high temperature burns your mouth, making you drop the spoon, clattering on the ceramic bowl.

“Shit” You mumble, bringing your hand to your lips.

“Shit!” Yuuji exclaims, with a toothy grin.

Widening your eyes and looking at him, then at Nanami, you feel your heart drop. You did not just teach a little kid to curse, did you?

“Shit!” The boy repeats. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Oh, no.” As your heart beats faster, Nanami smiles at you, laughing softly.

“Choso taught him how to curse last week.” He explains, reaching to the jar of water on the center of the table and pouring you a glass.

“Shit, fuck!” Yuuji continues.

Surprised, you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yuuji.” Nanami scolds, gently. “We have a guest tonight. Be polite.”

Yuuji giggles and takes a bite of his food, like nothing had happened. Nanami is still smiling softly at you, lingering his stare. His brown eyes are soft, as if he holds a certain admiration for you. 

The rest of the night goes with conversations with a kid, helping Kento to tie up the kitchen and putting Yuuji to bed.

Nanami sighs as he closes his son's bedroom door and walks over to you, back in the living room. You stare at each other with soft smiles for a moment, prolonging the time; you avoid saying that you have to leave, wanting to stay longer in his company, in his home.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, and your heart warms.

“It's a weekday,” you argue.

“I know.”

Then you nod, feeling the heat creep on your cheekbones. Nanami pours you a glass of red wine and guides you back to the couch. He crosses his leg, supporting an ankle on a knee, and stretching his arm on the top of the couch. He turns to face you, taking a sip of his red wine. Accepting his invitation, you approach him and snuggle on his body, his warmth radiates to you.

“How old is he?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Four,” he answers, rubbing circles with his thumb on your shoulder. When you don't say anything, he continues, “his… his mother is not in the picture.”

“Oh.” Your heart breaks a little to think of him and Yuuji abandoned by a faceless woman.

You feel him swallow hard and pull away to look into his eyes, “You don't have to tell me if you don't want…”

Nanami smiles softly, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face.

“It's alright.” He whispers. “I want to.”

You sit with your legs crossed on the couch as he tells you all about it. He tells you how he met Yuuji's mother at a bar and had a one night stand that resulted in her getting pregnant. He tells you how she wanted to get rid of it, and how he even drove her to the clinic, but felt an urge to convince her to keep it.

“I told her it was her choice, and hers only,” he says, “but if she wanted to, I'd support her in any way possible. She already had Choso and being a single mother is very hard. In the end, we decided I'd get the baby and she'd pay for child support. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted.”

A valid reason, you think. Maybe this woman was so hurt in the past that another kid wouldn't do well for her.

“It's been Yuuji and I, ever since. At least until Choso found us last month.”

A smile creeps on your face, “He seems… nice.”

Nanami almost barks a laugh, holding himself to not wake Yuuji up.

“He’s a teenager. But he's very protective of Yuuji. I guess he's always wanted a brother, that's why he looked for us.”

You nod, reflecting on what he said. You can't help but feel compassion for Nanami, imagining it must have been hard for him in the first moments. Taking care of a newborn, on his own, and still going to work… you feel your heart squeeze.

“I know it's a bit overwhelming,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “I-I… I won't blame you if you don't want this anymore…”

There. The insecurity is clear in his eyes, that avoid yours, in his stuttered words – have you ever heard him stutter before? –, in the way he leans his elbows on his knees. You can't help but feel sorry for him, but a deeper feeling takes over you.

Something strange, unfamiliar, but comforting. You don't know what it is yet, but you'll soon find out.

But it's something that drives you to uncross your legs and lean forward, against him. Gently, you take his chin and guide him to look at you. Without saying a word, you bring your lips to his, in a soft kiss.

“I don’t know how to deal with children,” you say, touching your forehead with his and closing your eyes, “but you can teach me. I know I’m clumsy and I have problems paying attention to what I wear to work, but if you… if you both give me a chance to let me in, I’ll do my best.”

Nanami cups your cheeks and leans forward to kiss you, before murmuring on your lips,

“You’re already in, sweet girl.”

Tears pool in your eyes as you kiss him back, not paying attention to the half empty glass of wine in your hands, only when it spills all over your blouse and on the couch.

“Fuck,” you whisper, quickly catching the – now empty – glass and standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

He stands up as well, never minding the stain on the couch, “I think that’s on me this time, darling.” Looking at your blouse, wet and stained, he inhales deeply. “You uh… That’s gonna stain if you don’t wash it soon.”

You look at him, knowing damn well the blouse is gone, the white fabric forever stained red. There’s a blush on Nanami’s cheekbones that makes you snicker.

“Should I take it off, then?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“Yes.” He answers too fast and you know what’s to come.

Untucking the blouse from your skirt, you cross your arms at your front and pull it over your head. Nanami’s breath hitches and he closes his hands in fists when he sees your black bra. It’s simple, not even lacy or anything, but the sight of your breasts in them makes him want to lose control.

You hand him the blouse with a smirk on your face. He says something under his breath that you can’t understand and takes it from you, “This will probably take all night.”

“I can stay as long as it takes,” you reply, “if that’s okay–”

“It’s okay.” Again with the quick answers, “There’s a shirt in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hallway. I’ll throw this in the washing machine and be right there.”

You can tell he’s holding himself by the strain on his voice, but you put that aside, because now you’re excited to see his room. Walking through the corridor, you pass Yuuji’s bedroom and what looks to be Nanami’s office. His bedroom is neat, organized, which reflects on the kind of person he is. It’s bigger than yours, with floor to ceiling windows, and a king sized bed – that looks so soft you’re afraid to sit on it–, a walk-in closet, and a big mirror leaned on the wall.

The windows are what catches your attention. You’ve never seen a city like that, lit up in the dark, you can only see the lights of other buildings and the cars down there. It’s beautiful.

Two hands snake on your waist, making you jump. Nanami’s lips brush on your shoulders from behind as he pulls you closer, your back against his chest. Relaxing your muscles, you lean back on him, touching his arms. 

“The view is beautiful.” You tell him as he peppers wet kisses from your shoulders to your neck.

“Hmm, this one too.” he says softly and you smile.

He starts to run his hands on your body, squeezing the flesh of your hips, cupping your breasts and hiking your skirt up to caress your inner thighs. Nanami moans in your ear.

“These damn lacy thigh highs.”

“Kento…” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder, “What about Yuuji…”

“I guess you’ll have to be quiet tonight.” He caresses your back and your neck until his hands are in your hair, giving it a tug that makes you whine quietly, desire coursing in your veins.

His mouth finds yours in a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, and it’s like he doesn’t kiss you in years . Nanami unzips your skirt from behind and pulls it down, turning your head, making you look at your reflection on the window.

“Do you know how hot you are?” He whispers, a feral look on his face. You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his pupils are dilated with lust.

“No…” You sigh. “Tell me… Show me.”

A hand dips between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side, and wasting no time in coating his fingers with your wetness. You hear him groan and say something, but your mind goes blank when he messily rubs your clit. A moan escapes your lips and he lets go of your hair to cover them.

“Shh…” Nanami says, “Be a good girl and I’ll let you come tonight.”

Oh, god. You love when he takes control like this. It’s how you know he’s going to fuck you good.

Without warning, Nanami sinks two fingers inside you. You’re so wet that they glide in easily, making him chuckle.

“Kento…” you mumble, voice muffled by his hand. “Please…”

He moves his hand from your lip to your neck, “What’s that, sweet girl?”

“Please…” you repeat.

“Please what? Use your words, princess.”

Your breath hitches at the endearing name, “Please, fuck me.”

Nanami smiles and it takes a second until he guides you to bed.

“Take these off,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt, “keep the thighs on.”

You know he loves when you wear high thighs, especially the lacy ones. Reaching behind you, and unclasping your bra, a smile graces your features when he takes his shirt and pants off. 

It never gets boring.

Nanami grows impatient and helps you pull down your underwear, spreading your legs after. The anticipation and excitement make you lose your breath, as he softly runs the back of his fingers on your inner thighs, tracing the lace and the soft skin of your upper thigh, getting closer and closer to where you want him to touch you the most.

“Kento…” your breath hitches when one of his fingers barely touches your center, “don’t tease.”

He laughs, smiling at you. “Now you want to tell me what to do?”

“No!” You shake your head, closing your eyes, “I just… Need you.”

Without warning, he kneels between your legs and latches at you. You whine, falling on the mattress and tangling your fingers on his soft hair. Nanami eats you like a starved man, like if you're someone he’s been missing for a long time. Your breath gets heavier by the second and, particularly, when he inserts two fingers inside you again, using his thumb to circle the most sensitive part of you.

“Love the way you taste,” he says, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. You don’t answer as you feel your orgasm building up slowly on your lower stomach.

“Hmm, don’t stop.” You manage to say.

“Anything for my good girl.” He mumbles, putting his mouth on you one more time.

The compliment is what makes you come, your hand over your lips to muffle your moans and whimpers. Eye rolling to the back of your head, you try to close your legs but Nanami doesn’t stop, riding out your orgasm like he does so many times.

When he’s done, he leaves a trail of kisses up on your stomach until he reaches your face, hoovering above you.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

Laughing, you try to hide your face, but when Nanami pries your fingers apart, he kisses you softly. Your moans, muffled by his lips, are quiet when he sinks in you, starting a slow pace; he buries his face on your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his hips, hugging him closer – as if it was possible – to you.

It’s not enough.

“Kento,” you whisper in his ear, “fuck me harder.”

Nanami grunts and pulls away from you, slipping out and roughly flipping you on your stomach.

“Ass up.” His voice is commanding and you oblige, moving to stay on all fours, “you asked for this, sweet girl,” he thrusts into you hard, “now take it like the good girl you are.”

He hits a spot inside you that makes you see stars; you can’t help to think how full you are, how complete you feel with him inside.

“ Shit .” Nanami’s voice is a hoarse, breathy, mumble. His fingers dig on the skin of your hips. You can feel the pressure of his blunt nails and it only makes you shudder. Your eyes rolling back, a strangled moan leaves your lips.

“I-” you try to speak, but Nanami grabs your hair by the roots, pulling you up so your sweaty back meets his hard chest. “Fuck, Kento!”

His mouth finds your ear, breathing hard as his hips meet your behind, “You like it when I pull your hair like this?”

Words escape you when he hits that spot inside you again, taking your breath away. It only makes Nanami pull harder on your hair, your scalp stinging pleasantly. The all too familiar sensation on your lower stomach starts to emerge.

“Do you?” he insists, his pace becoming slower, teasing you.

“Yes, fuck-” you gasp.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr. Nanami ! I love it when you pull my hair!”

He hums satisfied, “Good girl.”

Nanami lets go of your hair too soon, pushing your face against the mattress, but you don't have time to whine as he starts thrusting faster and harder inside you. Your knees almost give in and your legs shake. Trying to warn him, mumbling as he pistols his hips with no mercy. It’s only when the pad of his thumb presses against the tight ring of muscles behind you that you let out a raspy moan, letting it all out.

“Fuck, you little slut ,” he groans, coming together with you, releasing his spill inside you, “look at the fucking mess you’d made.”

Your senses are out of control, you’re seeing double and you barely register the soaked sheets as Nanami rides your and his orgasms out. When he finally stops his pace, you let out a shaky breath. You feel him pull out of you with a groan, leaning against your back once more, planting kisses on your face. The sigh that leaves your lips in relief is replaced by a yelp when he turns you on your back, pressing his lips on yours.

“Make up your mind, am I a good girl or am I a slut?” you smile on his lips.

He lets out a laugh, his smile making his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

“You’re wonderful,” he replies, out of breath, “You okay?”

“Yes.” you nod. “Sorry about the mess.”

Nanami shakes his head, “I love your mess.”

Lips parted, you pause at his words and absorb its meaning.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks, as if nothing has happened.

“Yes, please.”

Nanami guides you to the bathroom and gives you toiletries, kissing you one last time before you enter the shower. You use his soap, so uniquely him , and the extra toothbrush he gave you to brush your teeth. Then, when you leave the bathroom, he’s wearing his previous boxers and has already changed the sheets. As usual.

When he looks up at you, he smiles, “Will you stay the night?”

Warmth blooms in your heart. You nod quickly, not saying a word, afraid you’ll tear up.

Then he hands you a pair of pajamas. “Sorry, I only have men’s pajamas.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper. “Thank you.”

Nanami presses his lips against yours in a short sweet kiss, “You go ahead and lie down. I’ll take a quick shower.”

Nodding again, you smile to yourself as you dress the blue pajama he gave you and get on bed. Everything about this night was perfect. Meeting Yuuji and having dinner with both of them. Learning more about Nanami’s life, him showing an important part of him.

And you can’t wait to wake up next to him tomorrow.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #gabiwrites.txt

[gentaro-kinniecom]

New Beginnings

Characters: Zayne/fem!reader

C/w: 1.4k! (Read at your own risk, meant for +18) mentions of breeding, married life, somewhat graphic descriptions of sex. Zayne wants to be a father although he doesn't admit it..he just wants to get you knocked up.

A/n: Finished writing this instead of my english essay because... There's also a Rafayel fanfic in the making so stay tuned for more <33

“Zayne? It’s 1am, you still haven’t come back to bed..” I said, leaning against the door frame as he sighed, typing away on his computer while passing a hand across his hair, trying to calm himself down. 

“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll be there”

“That’s what you said an hour ago..you’re tiring and exhausting yourself to the point of death at this point” Zayne sighed, closing his laptop and getting up from his desk chair, walking towards me with a soft grin trying to comfort me. 

“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, hugging my waist as we walked towards our shared bedroom. Ever since we got married, Zayne has gotten more work than usual piled up on his desk every time I go to visit him at work. It worries me that he’s overworking himself because of money, which hasn’t been an issue at all given he’s a doctor and works in a very respected hospital. But what other reason might it be? I laid in our shared bed, feeling myself drift away to sleep when suddenly, Zayne wrapped his arms around my waist. 

“Mhm, thank you” I replied, snuggling up to him while caressing his soft dark strands of hair that fell on his face, smiling. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite grasp as Zayne kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help but stay awake for a few minutes, looking at the city lights by the window and back at Zayne’s sleeping form beside me.

Woken up by the sound of something crashing from the kitchen, I got out of bed with a small yawn, walking down the corridor of our lovely home to see Zayne had a mess of pancake batter all over his “kiss the cook” apron while sighing in annoyance before turning towards me.

“There’s shards of glass on the floor..please, be careful” I nod, grabbing a broom from the closet room and coming back to see Zayne was picking up the broken pieces from the floor. I suddenly stepped in one while trying to hand him the broom which made him look at me with worry, I try not to cry as he can clearly see the tears pricking my eyes.

“I’m fine I swear..” Without a second thought, he quickly lifted me onto the kitchen counter, carefully yet skillfully removing the glass from my foot as Zayne chuckled.

“Having you like this, reminds me of our honeymoon. Remember when-” I stopped Zayne by placing a hand over his mouth, trying to not remember that day where he fucked me into oblivion in our hotel’s kitchen island, right before breakfeast too.

“Why must you always make me remember? It’s like you’re hinting at wanting kitchen sex right now..” A chuckle left his lips as Zayne’s body inched closer, his hands grabbing my waist gently, kissing my neck while whispering sweet words that had me falling into his desire.

“Because, shouldn’t being a husband imply taking care of his wife’s desires as their own? Is it too bad that I want to be greedy with you for a few moments?”His hands began to trail under my nightgown and towards my chest as he began to rub my nipples, making me whine while kissing him.

“Alright, fine. Just seeing you in this apron alone made me feel things, did you do it on purpose?” I asked half jokingly as Zayne kissed my shoulder before taking off my nightgown, leaving me naked on the counter while grinning ear to ear.

“Perhaps, although now I see what you’ve been meaning to hide all this time; you’re trying to rile me up, and it’s working” He then kissed me, taking his sweet time to stroke my clit, agonizingly slow, teasing me as I whined into his mouth. Zayne didn’t take this lightly and spread my legs apart in a second. 

“And to think this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t break the glass measuring vase today” I added, gazing over at Zayne who kneeled towards my pussy, blowing on it gently before sucking on it. I gasped as his tongue did wonders, had I really forgotten of that day, or was I too fucked out of my brains to remember? Possibly the latter. He suddenly grabbed my thighs, massaging them in a way that made my cunt drip with more arousal than before. Of course, I was impatient, so I grabbed Zayne’s hair, pulling him upwards as he got the message.

“Maybe it was fate or clumsiness on my behalf, at least we’re making something out of this.” He spoke, yet I was too focused on how quickly he was to take off his pants, making me wonder why the hell was he wearing work pants so early in the morning. Nonetheless, all my thoughts vanished out the window as soon as I saw his cock. It wasn’t less than average or more, slightly curved and girthy, the type that never wants to let go once he’s had a taste..that..is the man I married, and the man he will always be. The small but noticeable vein on the side made me drool as he stroked himself a few times before prodding at my entrance. 

“Please, don’t make me wait longer, my love” 

“I thought, you weren’t the type to beg for something, it seems there’s a first for everything after all” Pushing my hips to meet his cock, Zayne grabbed them harshly, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to put me in my place as he smiled. The moment he thrusted inside, I threw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure Zayne was giving me at the moment. My hand found Zayne’s shoulder as he continued to pound at my dripping pussy. He let out a sharp groan as he finally reached my g-spot, making me let out a breathy moan while speeding up.

“Is this what you- hah wanted all along? For me to breed you? Make you carry our child? Answer me.” Zayne’s voice dropped to that soft and warm yet firm tone I always loved. Without any doubt, I answered almost eagerly.

“Y-yes..! Oh fuck~!” I sobbed due to the stimulation he gave me, in a hazy rush, Zayne grabbed my thighs, thrusting sharply yet deeply, enough to make me crave more.

“You’d be such a good mom, look at you, all needy and willing for me. I can’t wait to expand our family with you” He said, panting afterwards as he unexpectedly came inside rather quickly than normal. Pulling his cock away from my puffy cunt almost regretting his decision not long before seeing his cum leak down with a faint smile on his face.

“Stay here, I’ll go grab a towel.'' I nod, smiling at his gentleness as he comes back to clean me up. Zayne’s lips met mine as a ‘thank you’ from my behalf for being so kind and sweet as always. We eventually got dressed once again as I looked at my husband through the mirror of our bedroom, walking downstairs as I stared at the kitchen momentarily.

“So..what are we going to do about breakfast?” I asked, causing him to laugh while he grabbed both the house and car keys as we exited the front door.

“I know of a brunch place that just opened up nearby, perhaps we could give it a try today”

Some weeks later, I started feeling sick and began vomiting sometimes during the morning. I had a feeling it was because I was pregnant, however, my husband wanted to run some tests for me in the clinic near the hospital he worked at, “just to be sure” his words not mine. At the end of the day, I returned home waiting for the results to come back as I heard the front door open. Zayne tried little to hide the smile on his face as he handed me the envelope from the clinic

“I don’t need to read the letter at this point with the way you’re smiling at me” I teased, opening it up to show that I was indeed 3 weeks pregnant with his child. Zayne hugged me briefly before kissing my lips ever so softly.

“I promise to be the best father for our child, thank you for allowing me to have the blessing to start a family the day we got married, I love you.” He spoke, tear-eyed as I hugged him back, crying happily onto his chest.

“I love you too..I’ll never regret marrying the man that treats me like a queen and makes sure I have everything I need.” 

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace fluff #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne smut #zayne

[sonarspace]

more than friends, suguru geto

a/n: happy late 420...not proofread cause its 1am so bare with me if there are any mistakes 💔 content: getting high (kinda?), smut (oral, fem recieving. sex. missionary? mating press? idk what else 😭). wc: 3.6k

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

you haven't seen him in two years. you had decided to go abroad to study for masters and stay there until you graduated. but your new home didn't feel like home because it didn't have him there. you've missed your friends especially suguru. he made everything feel better. you could get through anything as long as he was by your side.

between working and classes and the time difference you tried your best to stay in contact with him. he'd pick up your call any time of the day. hearing your voice was enough to make his day better. even a text from you would suffice. but when he didn't even get those, he'd be in a pissy mood. even more so when satoru would tease him "girlfriend didn't text you today, huh."

"shut up satoru. she's not my girlfriend." he fights back. oh how he wishes you were. so when you gave him the news that you were coming back he was elated. beyond elated actually. he immediately responds back asking for your flight details so he could pick you up. but you denied.

"i'll come over instead," you tell him on the phone flopping down on the couch with a smile you couldn't wipe off. you were thrilled at the prospect of being in his company once more. "i don't want our first meeting after two years to be in my airport clothes," you giggle. and he hums in thought. "okay, sweet cheeks. i'll see you then," and you could hear the joy in his voice as he hangs up the phone.

as your on your way to the airport you recieve a text from suguru.

⁞ suguru: change of plans, satoru's throwing a party, so we'll meet there. or do you wanna meet before and go over to his place?

⁞ you: why's satoru throwing a party?

↳ ⁞ suguru: because he's satoru.

↳ ⁞ you: makes sense.

⁞ you: don't think we'll be able to meet before the party. plane lands at 8 😿

↳ ⁞ suguru: i'll see you at the party then. have a safe flight, sweet cheeks 😸

as soon as you land, you grab a taxi and make your way to the hotel. you take a quick shower and change into a creamy ivory dress that hugs your body with thick straps adorning your shoulder. you take a look in the mirror before leaving and your cheeks are flushed at the thought of finally seeing him. luckily, satoru's location isn't too far from where you're staying so you grab a coat and walk to his place.

you buzz the doorbell once and then twice before satoru's presence graces you. he shouts your name in excitement and pulls you in for a tight long hug. as you hug him back you can't help but notice the smell of alchol and weed coming from inside.

he pulls back for a moment to admire you "i missed you," he murmurs as he places a sweet kiss on your forehead and hugs you once more. "missed you too satoru," you giggle trying to not get emotional.

"there's someone else who's missed you more than me though," he nudges your shoulder. "where is he?" you ask him. "come on," he shuts the door behind you but his penthouse is dark as you move in. he grabs your hand and pulls you in further. he flicks the light switch and you're met with a crowd yelling "surprise!"

you jump back and let out a laugh in shock. squealing as your closest friends make their way towards you. they all take turns hugging you and you're a blushing mess as he finally emerges from the crowd and comes over to you.

"hey," everything and everyone melts in the background. all you can see is him. his hair is longer as it drapes over his shoulder. his skin is covered in light facial hair. he seems taller. broader even. his eyes do a quick once over your figure.

"hi," you whisper feeling shy under his gaze. "no hug for me?" he teases. you laugh as you pull him in and he moves down to hug your shorter frame. your eyes close involuntarily as you hug him tight. you can feel the muscles he’s grown under his dress shirt. unable to control himself his nose pokes into your neck as he feels the familiarity of your smell wash over him. a mix of honey and cocoa butter. home sweet home, he thinks.

you finally break the hug and you feel everyone's gaze on the two of you. sure the two of you were not dating, but everyone knew you wanted each other. the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. you clear your throat as you look around, feeling a little awkward. it was so much easier when you talked on the phone, you think to yourself.

"want a drink?" he asks bringing you out of your thoughts. "yes, please."

"a margarita," you say together. "i remember," he smiles.

your social battery starts to drain as the night goes on and your friends ask you a ton of questions about your two yesrs abroad. suguru's leaning on a wall as he chats with nanami. his eyes kept finding their way back to you and yours to his. you looked an angel in the midst of everyone. all he could see was how the light on you shines brighter than everyone else.

"help me," you mouth to him when his eyes meet yours. he pushes off the wall and makes his way over to you, "excuse me everybody," he enunciates and breaks the circle of people surrounding you. "i think our guest is tired from her long flight, so i'm going to drop her off," he annouces as he grabs your hand.

you're not sure if its the little bit of alcholic coursing through you but his touch feels electric. a blush creeps up your neck as you he grabs your hand and pulls you through "you're just saying that because you want her all to your self." shoko speaks up. you chuckle as he rolls his eyes as he makes a face at shoko.

"want the last brownie?" satoru offers with a sly grin as you reach the door. "sure, im starving". you say. "aw shucks there's only one left," satoru fake pouts. "i'm good," suguru comments.

you break it in half and offer it to suguru "no, it's okay." he says but you push the half into his hand anyway. satoru gives you a quick hug and whispers "it's an edible". you gasp and pull away. "SATORU GOJO! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT BEFORE I ATE IT." you almost scream with annoyance.

"it's not strong, don't worry." he puts his hand up in defense. "it's an edible," you turn to suguru frustrated. "satoru, what the fuck?" suguru sighs. "you both seem nervous, it'll just help you feel better. plus it doesn't even have the same effect since you both halved it."

an annoyed pout makes it way on your face and suguru punches satoru in the arm in your defence. "you fucked up her mood, dipshit." however that stupid smile doesn't leave satoru's face, "you'll thank me later." he says as he bids you both goodbye.

"you've never had an edible before," suguru asks as you both walk out of the building. "no, how does it feel like?" you huff. "well it depends on the person. it could make you feel happy, hungry, sleepy, peaceful, or even horny. heh. but don't worry. i don't think it'll have the same effect on us cause we didn't take that much." he side eyes you.

you continue walking with a bit of distance between the two of you. it wasn’t like that before you purse your lips in thought. "look," he points. "it's your favorite." your eyes follow where he's pointing and you spot a stall selling yakitori. "wanna get some?" he offers. "yessss, please" you chirp excitedly. you sit on a bench across the stall as suguru grabs you a plate and two water bottles. "to sober up," he says as he places them near you.

you quickly down two sticks and suguru stares at you in quiet amazement. he couldn't believe you were here. sitting next to him and eating yakitori so joyfully. "you look beautiful," the words flow out of his mouth before he can stop himself. you choke on a bite as his words catch you off guard. "woah," he chuckles quietly as you cough multiple times and gain back your composure. "note to self to not compliment you while you're eating or i could end up killing you," he jokes making you laugh. "shut up," you meek out through your fit of laughter.

you turn on your side to face him, "you look really... really..." you're at a loss for words. "wow, thanks for the compliment sweet cheeks," he mocks. "nooo, you just look really really good, can't think of enough words. it's the weed making my brain fuzzy." and he guffaws.

"that's not how it works..."

"does so,"

"no it doesn't"

"how would you know?"

"it's only been thirty minutes... it needs an hour to take effect."

"maybe this one's just more powerful," you argue back with a cute scowl.

"whatever you say dummy," he smiles as he pats your head and stands up to throw the plates.

you walk side by side and with every step he moves in closer. your pinkies tangle with each other and he takes it as his sign to intertwine your hands. his hand grasping yours has a sensation build deep in your stomach. his thumb moves over the back of your hand in a soothing manner and a need for something more alerts in your brain.

"i really missed you," you break the silence as you near your hotel. he turns his face to meet your gaze, "i missed you, too”.

you stop walking and face each other. a smile creeps up his face. "what?" you squint at him. "can i kiss you?" you knew the question was coming but you're still taken aback. "yes,” you snicker.

his lips capture yours as soon the words are out of your mouth. the kiss is soft and sweet like holding a petal in your hand. your plush lips in between his. and it feels just like he thought it would. your hand moves over his shoulders pulling him in closer. he hums into your mouth as he pushes you to a wall. his tongue licks over your lips asking for permission and you part them. his tongue traces over yours trying to memorize the way your first kiss feels, the way you taste of alcohol and street food. so perfectly you.

he pulls back and you're both breathing heavily. a carnal need evident in both your eyes. "come on," you grasp his hand and lead him inside the hotel and to the elevator. his arms snake around your waist and he peppers your neck in kisses. the elevator dings and you quickly move in.

as soon as the elevator door closes his hands are on you pulling you in closer and moving his lips over your neck and collarbones. a kiss on your throat as he brings his lips up to yours. his hand moves up under your jaw, his finger brushing your cheek softly as he kisses you harder now and you whine into his mouth.

the elevator opens on your floor and you push him away stopping his lingering hands from making its way to your panties. you giggle as you walk backwards to your room, the sound echoing off the walls of the hallway. he follows with a smile plastered over his face. his heart swells with love for you just as a flower blooms after a rainy day.

you open the door and slip in and he locks the door behind him. your elbows support your body as you lean back on the bed with your feet crossed and dangling in front him.

he tries to move in close but you stop him with your heel pressing into his chest. your dress moves higher and his breath hitches as he notices your white lace panties. his hand wraps around your leg and fingers lightly scratch your thigh. he undoes the straps of your heels and presses a kiss on your ankle as he puts it down and gets on his knees. he removes the heels off of your second foot.

and peppers your legs with kisses. his eyes on you the entire time. his hands slide further up your legs and under your dress. "suguru," you whisper. "yes, baby," he hums grinning at your neediness when you pull him in closer with your legs.

"don't tease," you sneer at him. he chuckles in return, "did the guys back there not keep you satisfied?"

"did the girls here not keep you satisfied, suguru?" you tilt your head and the way you purr his name has blood rushing to his dick. he shakes his head, "no one comes close to you". he holds your eyes "no one ever will".

your cheeks heat up from the way he eyes you and you look away. "now now.." he grabs your chin, "give me a kiss and i'll make you feel incredible." you lean in and give him a long kiss. your hands hold his face as you suck his tongue into your mouth and he buckles forward with a whimper. you pull back with a smug smile.

he grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulders getting comfortable between your legs. his mouth colors your thighs in red bite marks. his gaze is unwavering as his mouth moves closer to where you need him. he pokes out his tongue and closes his eyes, letting out a groan "so wet, sweet cheeks".

he licks a stripe over your panties and hums at the light taste that runs over his tongue. he licks a few more times and then sucks over the spot where you clit is. giving it a peck once he pulls back and slides your panties off your legs quickly. he takes a moment admiring his view, your pussy glistening all because of him. he grows harder at the thought and whines as he brings his mouth to your core once more.

his tongue moves over your outer folds first and then he slowly licks on your inner folds. you hiss when his tongue makes contact with your clit. "she's sensitive huh?" he speaks referring to your pussy.

he licks your clit a few times before he sucks it in his mouth. he eases a finger into your hole at the same time. "she's greedy, look at how she's clenching around my finger," he chuckles under his breath.

your hands tangle in his hair as you mewl and buck your hips into his mouth, "ya gettin close, sweetness?" he asks sweetly moving his finger in and out of you at quick pace. "mhm," you hum in reply - not able to say much. his second hand makes its up way your body, palming your boobs over your dress. and his tongue moves in circle over your nub, bringing you closer to the edge.

"sugu-" you breathe heavily tipping your head back. he keeps sucking on your clit, his tongue teasing it every few minutes. meanwhile his finger rubs against that soft spot in you and loud moans spill out of you as you cum in his mouth.

he pulls back and moves his finger out of your cunt and into your mouth. your lips wrap around his finger tasting yourself. you hold his wrist in place as you bob your head slightly. his breath hitches at the scene. he tugs you downwards with his finger in your mouth.

you let go of his finger in your mouth and move into his lap. he grabs your face and kisses you him messily. all teeth and tongue. you pull back from the kiss spit connecting your lips. you undo the buttons of his shirt and his lips move over your neck. he wraps a hand around your throat tipping it up as he leaves kisses all over and licks a strip up to your ear lobe. a chill runs over you and you let out a whimper at his actions. he bites your ear lobe and then soothes it with his tongue.

his hands move under your ass squeezing at the flesh as he picks you up and drops you in the middle of the bed. he pulls off his unbuttoned shirt and slowly pulls off his pants and boxers, making a show of it. your mouth waters at his length as it spring up and hits his abdomen.

you reach out a hand and he grabs it pushing it by your head as he settles above you. you pull off the starps of your dress and he tugs it down your body until your nude frame comes into view. his mouth drops at the sight. "gorgeous fuckin body, gorgeous face, gorgeous girl. my girl?" he tilts his head slightly as if questioning you.

you titter "yes suguru, your girl." you confirm and the smile he gives as your heart melting. it reaches his eyes twinkling and lighting up his entire face. you spread your legs so he can settle between them. he pushes your hair back and pecks your lips once and then your cheeks, nose — showering your face in kisses making you smile until you break out in a laugh.

you maintain eye contact as your hand wraps around his dick and he gulps hard as your thumb rubs over his slit gathering his pre cum. your ringed fingers moving up and down his length, applying just the right amount of pressure without him having to guide you. so perfect for him, he thinks. "slow down," he whines. "gonna make me cum, if you keep going".

you guide it to your aching hole. "no condom. are you sure?" he asks sincerly. "i'm clean and on the pill" you hum. "im clean too," he beams. he pecks you once more before he pushes in slowly.

you both hold your breath until he pushes in half way. "can you take more?" he checks in with you. "yeah just give me a minute," you ask trying to adjust to his girth. "take your time, sweet stuff," he kisses your cheek.

"go ahead," you tell him after a few minutes and he pushes in completely, both of you whining in tandem. "fuck," his voice drops an octave.

he starts moving slowly. his tip pushes right against your g-spot. your walls snug around him. he drops his head into your neck. breathing heavily. your arms wrap around his back scratching lightly at the way he was making you feel. he picks up the pace after a while, moving all the way out with just his tip in and you moan at the loss of being full by him.

"suguru," you cry. "shh," he quickly shuts down your protests, rubbing your cheek as he pushes in harder nudging his cockhaed against your g spot making your eyes roll back. he pulls your legs up to his shoulder and the angle has you feel him deeper. he starts moving faster "feel so good, baby. can't believe, been missing out on this for so long." he whines, kissing your calf.

he starts thrusting at a toe curling pace. alternating between slow and hard, fast and soft — driving you insane. he rubs his thumb over your clit, making you reach your high. the sounds of your wet cunt and his hard thrusts are loud and can probably be heard by anyone passing your room. if this was anyone else, you would've probably not made a single sound but with suguru... you can't help but be loud.

"what a messy cunt you've got sweetness. just sucking me in so eagerly." he pushes your legs up to your chest fucking you faster. "tch tch" he tuts patting your cheek, when you shut your eyes from the simulation. "eyes on me". you nod. "how does it feel baby?" he asks.

"incredible," you whimper. he holds eye contact as he brings your legs down to wrap around him and he moves closer to you. breathing in synch. chest to chest. skin to skin.

if you tried hard enough you could feel his heart beating to the syllable of your name. "i've missed you so much," he whispers. his lips captures yours and you whine into his mouth. his tongue dances with yours. his thumb on your clit moves at an unwavering pace bringing you closer to the edge. you bite his lower lip as the band in your stomach snaps and you cum with a moan of his name. he follows suit chanting your name like a mantra.

he looks into your eyes once you both come down from your highs and all you could see was the love you had for each other reflected back. you stay like that for a while, a smile on both your faces. despite the fact that you had been apart for two years, your ability to understand each other remained unchanged as you gaze into each other's eye having an entire conversation without speaking. the distance and time only made your relationship stronger.

"so, weed makes you horny huh?" he breaks the silence. and you both bust out laughing.

a/n: i honestly dont know how i feel about this one but i hope you like it :). reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated!

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

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[struniolos]

guitar lessons.

chapter two: meddle about.

(you can read chapter one here!)

synopsis: you decided to take guitar lessons from your boyfriend nate’s best friend, chris, while he’s away at college. but one night, things go too far. loosely based off the song sex by the 1975.

warnings: smut! minors do not interact.

“what did you yesterday baby?” nate’s voice hums through the phone, as you cuddle up into your bedsheets.

you rambled to him about everything, how you’d gone to buy a gingerbread house to make with your friends, how you bought a new coat, everything other than what was gnawing at you. chris. you tried your best to act as you usually did, but made an effort to bounce the questions back to him so you didn’t have to talk about yourself.

“so, when are you coming to visit me?” you said, biting your lips.

“i’ve got to study for finals next week, so i’m probably not for another two weeks.” nate told you, making your heart sink.

the less you saw him, the more you felt yourself drifting away from him. it was a gut wrenchingly awful feeling, guilt bubbling beneath the surface of your body. in everything you did, you felt it.

you sighed into the speaker. “i miss you.”

“i miss you too, baby.” nate told you. “well, i’ve got training in the morning so i should go, but we’ll talk soon. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you said quietly, holding your face in your hands.

as the phone call came to an end, you found yourself curled in a ball under the covers. it was almost 8pm, when you agreed to meet with chris. but your heart was telling you not to go, that this was an awful idea. because it was, you had just told your boyfriend how you loved him moments before meeting up with his best friend. you decided to message chris.

you: i’m not coming, i’m sorry.

he typed back instantly.

chris: why? we can just chill :(

you: it’s too cold. i just want to stay in bed.

you try and weasel your way out of the gate you’ve opened, to step back as if you weren’t the one also engaging in this.

chris: what if i came to pick you up?

you bit your lips, sighing.

you: fine.

about an hour later, you look out your bedroom window to see the familiar black van out the front of your house, it’s headlights illuminating the icy road thats caked in snow at the curb. you grab your hoodie and put on your slippers, sneaking down the staircase to not disturb your parents as they would know damn well it wasn’t nate.

you tiptoed your way out the front door, walking the snowy path towards the van. chris had already reached over to open the door for you, and you felt yourself getting flustered. you jumped into the van, closing the door firmly behind you and looking over at chris, his hair dark and loose, his silver necklace stark against his black crewneck.

“hey.” he smiled, putting the car into drive.

“hey.” you said shyly, biting your cheek. “so, where are we going?”

“you’ll see.” chris shrugged, with one the hand on the wheel and the other propped up against the window.

you felt an unbearable weight on your chest, something urging you to stop. to tell him to turn around and take you home. but there was something about him, something that you couldn’t fight. nate was the safe option, you knew that, but chris- chris was dangerous.

the radio was on quietly, the hum of the engine and icy roads filling your ears. you both didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, in complete silence within each other’s company. you wondered if chris was thinking about nate, or if he was selfishly wanting you all to himself.

eventually, you were parked at a lookout spot at the hilled part of the neighbourhood, looking out to the thousands of houses below only specks of yellow light against the darkness. you were shielded by woods, away from prying eyes.

chris parked the car, pulling the handbreak and leaning back in his chair. he looked over at you, his eyes dark.

“i don’t know what i’m doing, chris.” you said softly, breaking the silence. “i shouldn’t be here.”

“but you came.” he opposed, rubbing his face- his chain bracelet falling down his veined arm. you found yourself eyeing his fingers too, long and slender, the dimmed light carving out his features.

chris was the one to make the first move, shifting his hand to your thigh as he held eye contact with you. “why did you leave yesterday?”

“because it’s wrong and we shouldn’t be…i shouldn’t be doing this.” you said with pleading eyes.

chris continued rubbing your thigh. you don’t stop him. he leaned over to grab your face with his other hand, his finger tracing your warm cheek and lips, his thumb prying your mouth open.

“after you left, did you go home and touch yourself thinking about me?” he murmured, looking at you though hooded eyelids.

you hated how much you loved this, how much you revelled in his forbidden touch. you knew he wanted you to suck on his fingers but you didn’t, simply kissing the pad of his thumb. “no.”

“hmm.” he hummed, grabbing your cheeks with one hand, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he squeezed them together to pout your mouth. “i did.”

you clenched your thighs together, as he kissed you deep. you moaned into his mouth, as his tongue came to lick into yours. it was messy, all teeth and tongue. you never did this with nate, it was always so straightforward. you guessed this was why chris was so enticing- he was everything nate wasn’t.

“come over here.” he whispered, grabbing your hips to help you. he pushed the seat backwards to give you both more space, as you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him.

you rubbed your palms down his shirt, breathing heavily. “what happened to teaching me guitar?

“i’m teaching you something else.” he smirked, kissing you again, this time slower.

you pulled away briefly. “and what would that be?”

“how to feel good.” he flirted, kissing the corner of your mouth, his hands greedy as he squeezed your hips and groped your behind.

“my boyfriend makes me feel just fine.” you told him, trying to elicit a reaction.

but chris didn’t react, instead looking you directly in the eyes as he tilted his head as he dipped a hand below your sweatpants. “if he did, why did you come to me?”

your lips fall apart as he began to rub circles through your panties, your sensitive bundle of nerves pulsating at his touch. your lips found each other, tongues dancing and hot air spilling from your nose as your breathing picked up. he moved your underwear to the side, his fingers collecting your slick.

“i dreamed about this.” chris told you, as he began to push his ring finger inside your velvet walls.

“you did?” you breathed, bracing your hands on his shoulders.

he kissed your cheek sloppily. “mhm, about how good you’d feel.”

you moaned at the feeling of his finger fully seated inside you. fuck, it had been so long. chris pumped his finger in and out of you a few times before adding another, your vision blurring and body heating up.

“c’mon pretty girl.” he urged you, as his fingers curled and beckoned you towards your orgasm.

you moaned raggedly into his mouth, your hips starting to grind up and down. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hand on the small of your back guiding you as he fingered you deep sent you over the edge embarrassingly quickly. you moaned and squirmed in his lap, a complete mess. he coerced your release through small praises and kisses, holding you close to his chest. chris brought his fingers to his mouth to suck clean, locking eyes with you- it was lewd, but ridiculously hot.

“i want to be inside you.” chris confessed, his lips attaching to your neck to suck bruises into your skin.

“chris.” you protested, but he continued to assault your neck, his other hand coming to cup your ass, moulding it against his hand.

“i can take care of you better than him.” he uttered, now squeezing your breasts with both hands, kneading and palming them.

you felt your pussy flutter, your core coming in contact with his hardness. you ground down onto him, the friction euphoric. “show me.”

between kisses and whispers, chris assisted you in ridding yourself of your hoodie, and pulling your sweatpants off. he tossed them into the backseat, as well as tossing his crewneck and tshirt off and shimmying down his own sweatpants, so they sat at his thighs. you continued to grind yourself down on his hardness, both of you moaning and breathing heavily at the feeling.

you couldn’t do this to nate, this would completely change things. this would break you. you knew if you continued, that there was no going back. but it just felt so good.

chris kissed the valleys of your breasts, pulling your bra down so it hung at your hips, as he continued to suckle on each one, toying with the other with his free hand. you moaned heavily, the feeling of his warm mouth and breath on you too much. chris pulled away with a wet pop, leaving your nipples peaked and wet.

“i want you to spit on my cock before i fuck you.” he instructed, and you did as you were told.

you pulled down his boxers to let his weeping cock spring free, letting it slap against his stomach. you licked your lips, as you held it in your hands, the warm weight of it enough to send you over the edge. he was definitely bigger than nate, girthier too- you knew it was going to hurt. you spit on your hand, before coating it all over his cock like lube. chris threw his head back, groaning and bucking his hips up into your hand.

chris stopped you, placing his palm on your chest. he sat himself upright, as you hovered your hips above him. he pushed your soaked panties to the side once more, rubbing the red tip of his cock against your opening. you both indulged in the feeling, pushing your lips together and your breath mingling as one.

“want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” he growled.

“please.” you pleaded, feverishly kissing him.

“you think i can fuck you better than your boyfriend?” he dares, licking behind your ear and continuing to rub the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

you shudder, biting your lips to you conceal your answer as your pussy throbs. yes, you think to yourself.

chris grabs your hips, leaving crescent moons in your flesh from his nails as he guides you. you let out an embarrassing desperate moan as you sink yourself down onto him, seated perfectly in his lap. he’s only halfway in, and the stretch is much more than you’re used to. or maybe because it had been so long? was it because he was bigger than nate? your mind buzzed with thoughts. thoughts of your boyfriend. here you where, with his best friends dick inside of you- and it turned you on much more than you’d admit to yourself.

chris kissed you sloppily as he helped you seat yourself completely on him, your pussy swallowing him whole. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. you felt so full, so content. you hadn’t felt this...ever.

without much time to adjust to his size, chris began thrusting his hips up into you, filling you to the hilt. you gasped and grappled onto him, anywhere you could, his hair, his shoulders, the car seat behind him. he was relentless.

“i’ve wanted to do this for months.” he whispered, grabbing a fist full of your hair and using it to pull your head back, giving him full access to your neck and chest.

all you could do was moan in response, as his hips snapped up into you at a reckless pace. he licked up your throat, and dipped his fingers into your mouth. you gagged on them, saliva dripping down your chin. it was filthy and messy and so fucking hot. you had never experienced anything like it.

“do i fuck you better than your boyfriend? huh?” he growled, as you began to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your release.

“mhm” you muffled, his fingers dropping from your mouth.

“what was that?” he taunted, a devilish smile daunting over him.

you almost felt like you were going to split in half with the pace and force he was fucking into you. tears were almost pricking your eyes, everything just felt so good.

“yes, yes chris.” you cried, a blubbering mess as he grabbed your hips tighter to pound into you.

you grabbed his face with both hands, kissing him full of tongue and saliva. everything was becoming blurred, your thoughts of nate a distant memory as you felt your orgasm building in your stomach. your toes began to curl, your face contorting and a high pitched squeal -you didn’t know you were capable of- coming from within you.

“fuck oh my god!” you shuddered, your body beginning to convulse and shake around him, clutching onto his sweaty body tighter.

you felt your release come quicker than you’d have liked, with chris’ thrusts becoming more languid as he helped you ride out your high. his hair was stuck to his forehead, his cheeks and chest flushed red. his eyebrows knit together and lips parted as he followed close behind you, shooting his hot juices into you. you let your forehead fall to his shoulder, breathing heavily and your body shuddering.

you both sat for a while, catching your breath, with chris still deep inside you. you raised your head, looking at him with saddened eyes, pushing his hair from his face.

chris pouted at you, scrunching his nose. “what?”

“i cant believe we did that. that…that shouldn’t have happened.” you tell him softly, as the weight of the situation finally sunk in.

you had cheated on nate.

“he won’t know.” chris assured you, rubbing slow circles on your bare back.

you shook your head. “but what if he finds out.“

“he won’t.” chris said firmly, looking at you with a seriousness you weren’t used to. “same time tomorrow?”

you rubbed your forehead, looking at the man before you. he was gorgeous, all fucked out and blissful, lips kissed and hair mussed. how could you say no?

“okay.”

taglist;

@creamoncreamoncream @certainfestivalnerdshepherd @sofiasnookiee @goandcomebsck @chrisluvbot @arizonaicedtealoverrr @lustfulslxt @s1urnioloslvr @meme2003 @starsturniolo

#sorry this took so long #it’s been a hell of a week #anyway i’m not very happy w this but thought i’d post it anyway #lmk if u guys want another part! #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo x you #guitar lessons

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

YEARNING || Intro

Some meetings are nothing but fleeting coincidence- others are what we call fate.

Tags/Warnings: Dragonblood!Prince!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Some fluff if you squint?, Jungkook is emotionally constipated oops

Length: 4.8k Words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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It’s been a long time since you’ve been put in your cell, and yet, you don’t provide the castle guards with any answers they might seek.

The straw pinches and picks at your skin, but it’s warm and soft whenever you sleep. The food you receive is barely enough to fill you, but it keeps you alive, and gives you something to do during the day. The only sunlight you get is from a small, barred up opening far up on the back wall of your cell- one of many, placed in rows, but always with a wall in between each cage to separate the prisoners. Isolate them.

Today, it’s raining.

Two guards enter the hall underground you’re in, opening your cell. “looks like you’ll get a shower.” One chuckles, before he puts the shackles around your wrists, tugging you out by the chain that connects them to one another. This is also not new. Sometimes, they’ll put you out in the snow, or the wind, or today- the rain.

But you’ve got nothing to say.

The light stings your eyes as you can hardly see, stumbling more than walking after the guard who chains your hands to a large, wooden construct meant to hold onto the chain from your shackles. “Maybe it’ll wash the grime off.” The guard jokes to the one next to him, before he leaves your already shivering body behind.

As your eyes adjust to the brightness, you look up- finally able to see the flying dragons above clearly, their wings keeping them circling in the skies, colors mixing.

This is why you’re here.

Dragons are seen as dangerous, wild and violent creatures that humanity needs to be protected from. Therefore, dragon eggs and nests need to be reported, and any sightings too- so when you failed to do so, and even offered a once injured beast shelter, you’ve made yourself an enemy to the kingdom.

Especially because you refuse to reveal where it went after you’ve nursed it back to health.

And you will continue to stay quiet, because you know that dragons aren’t the vile beings they’re made out to be. No- the real beasts are the humans here, who enslave their own people just for choosing to help an injured creature that’s not of the same kind.

This isn’t fair.

And if that is what life is all about- you don’t want it.

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They throw a young man into the cell right next to yours, where you’re still laying on the floor, still recovering from the rain and cold from yesterday.

He can’t be just a normal human being- the jewelry he still wears on his face and ears distinctive, just like the ink beneath his skin. He’s probably one of the dragonblood people.

He watches you for a good while, before he actually speaks, quietly so. “what did you do?” He asks, and your eyes look at him from where you’re laying on the floor near the hay.

“…I hid a dragon from the kingdom.” You answer just as quietly, eyes closing again.

“Why?” the young man asks.

“Because it.. was hurt.” You simply offer the truth.

“Did they survive?” He questions further, and you nod, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Can you hear them?” the man asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m not one of them.” You answer. “I’m just.. human.” You tell him, and he falls quiet again.

Having nothing more to say.

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Today, they’ve taken you both out again. Him in the cage, you chained up near him, hands bound by shackles attached to a wooden post.

It’s nighttime, and they’ve not yet taken you back inside like usual.

“You cannot hear them..” Comes a voice from the side, the young man turned towards you, the fire of a nearby torch reflecting off of his dark eyes. You nod- he’s most likely been imprisoned for a reason regarding dragons as well. “and yet you helped them?”

You shrug, which is barely noticeable amongst your shaking body. “..it felt unfair t-to leave it and l-let it be captured.” You admit to him. “E-everything was fine.” You say, and he just watches you, only a few larger dragons now left in the skies above. “but- b-but then I fought with my brother. And so he wrote a letter t-to the court.” You giggle, remembering the poor writing of his. Frankly, you couldn’t write at all- but still. For someone who thinks so highly of himself such as your brother, he sure lacks in every task and talent.

“What did you fight about?” the young man wonders.

“H-he had told me I had t-to leave the house we inherited from our p-parents, because he’d found a potential woman for himself.” You say. “A-and I told him to at least let me stay in the c-cabin close by.” You explain, voice stammering due to the cold. “He said I couldn’t. So we fought. Because.. I had nowhere else to go.” You admit. “I was scared.”

The young man is silent at that.

“can you hear them?” You ask, eyes closed as you hear his own chains move around with him as he adjusts his sitting position.

“I can.” He tells you, and you smile.

“Do you think they know?” You wonder, an open question he interprets as you asking if they know of your past actions for them. “maybe t-that’s why they’re above..” you figure, and it’s quiet for a moment.

“They know.” He tells you, and you nod, accepting that answer. He’s most likely just trying to comfort you, and you appreciate that. Your shivering slowly stops, and you know it’s not a good sign.

“I’m glad.” You say to him, tension leaving your body as you open your eyes again- surprised to see him look at you still, but his gaze doesn’t unsettle you like it does the guards. Maybe because to you, he’s an equal. He’s just as much in this situation as you are.

“Hold on a bit longer.” He says, and you’re not sure what he means by that- when suddenly, something crashes down, sky darkening as it fills with dragons, fire filling up the ground for a moment as one of them shields the young man from the guards approaching. He’s saying something, you’re not sure what- as his cage is torn and bent apart, steel unable to hold it’s shape against the claws of the beasts claiming the skies and mountains as theirs.

A dark brown dragon approaches you, bites at the chains of your shackles, before they break and have you released- body falling to the wet ground, where it is picked up by hands to be placed on the back of the beast.

You’re not very aware what happens. You just feel cold- and oddly warm, all at the same time.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

When you wake up, you’re warm- and also, not alone.

There’s multiple little.. animals? All laying on the blankets that cover you- and as you look closer, you realize they’re young dragons. “Oh, you’re awake.” A man says, noticing your opened eyes. “I was worried you might need more time. My name is Seokjin.” He offers, before adjusting a pillow. “You’re.. somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know for now.” He kindly offers, when the door opens.

“Oh, she’s up.” The other man says, politely nodding towards you. “I’ll tell the kitchen that she’ll eat too?” He asks, and Seokjin nods.

“But only some soup for now, the same as the others we took in.” He explains. “and yes, that includes Jungkook. Make sure he doesn’t steal anything from the kitchen.” He says, as the man chuckles and leaves. “That was Taehyung, by the way. He’s mainly responsible for the young hatchlings- but he’s also in charge of handling the new Hiwerns we took in.”

“…Hiwern?” You wonder, and Seokjin nods.

“yes. Hiwerns- are you not one?” he wonders as be helps you sit up. “Jungkook didn’t tell us much about you, so I assumed you were- despite you being rather.. small.” He says, and only now do you notice how tall he is.

“Jungkook?” you ask, unsure. “the.. other prisoner?” You ask, and Seokjin smiles.

“Yes. He was taken after he got caught off guard.. but we all know what the prince is like.” He laughs, making your eyes widen. “Wait.. you.. seem confused.”

“I am.” You say. “I’m not.. I don’t know anything about a.. prince?” You question, when someone walks in-

The man you remember.

“Jin, why do I need to keep eating soup- oh.” He notices, looking at you before his face becomes more gentle. “Hello. It’s good to see you up.”

“She’s a bit confused.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook nods.

“I figured.” He simply sighs. “I’ll talk to you later. I’d like to talk to her alone right now.” He requests, and Seokjin leaves, while Jungkook stays behind to sit on the edge of your bed.

He looks different. Skin clean, and dressed in clearly well made clothes- fit for a prince, like Seokjin had mentioned. “ask away. You must have many questions judging by the way you look.” Jungkook says, and you look to the little dragon hatchling that curls up near your legs, continuing to sleep.

“Hiwern.” You begin. “What.. is that?” You wonder.

“I’m a Hiwern. So is he, and almost everyone else here.” He simply replies. “Hiwerns are.. people who have dragon blood inside of them. We’re like.. descendants of the more traditional dragons, so to say. That’s why we can hear them, and speak their language.” He offers as an explanation. “that’s a very simplified version of it all. But you don’t need to know much more than that.” Jungkook says.

“…and you’re a prince?” You ask a bit more hesitant, and he nods.

“I am. At least, for the Hiwern people.” He shrugs. “for your people I’m nothing more than a monster.” He says, and you shamefully look down.

“What.. what is going to happen to me?” You wonder, and he just smiles as he gets up, hissing a bit probably due to his injuries he sustained while captured.

“You’ll heal. After that, we’ll bring you back to your people.” He reassures you, as he opens the door to let Seokjin back inside-

Leaving you with a dark wish to never heal at all.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

The snow is deep, as you and Jungkook walk through the woods in the mountains together.

You’re humming a song that catches his attention, making him turn to look at you over his shoulder. “how do you know this song?” He questions.

“My mother hummed it often. I just.. picked it up.” You answer a bit hesitant. “I can stop if you want..” you say, but he shakes his head.

“its no problem.” He answers. “your voice is.. soothing to listen to.”

“What is.. the song about?” You ask, awkwardly asking your questions because you don’t want to overstep a line- but this is a unique opportunity to satisfy some curiosity you’ve always had.

“The song of the daughter.” He answers. “it’s.. a tale of the first Hiwern daughter of the mountains.” Jungkook explains. “according to.. tales, there were once four daughters born from a dragon mother. One in the mountains, one near the sea, one in the desert, and one in the woods.” He recites. “and they gave their gift of dragonblood to their children, and so on. That’s how.. we apparently came to be. Sons and daughter’s born and travelled, and we eventually formed our own society.” He shrugs.

“So.. there’s Hiwerns all over the world?” You ask, and he nods.

“But since the royal families have made the act of dragon-speech illegal, we have been hiding.” He explains. “where is.. your family?” Jungkook asks as he walks further down the mountains with you.

“My mother was hung a few years ago, for.. the same thing I was supposed to be hung for.” You say, walking next to him. “but.. they didn’t hang me, because they wanted me to tell them where the dragon went.” You explain. “so they could find the nest.”

Jungkook stays quiet for a while, before he speaks again. “You said you have a brother?” Jungkook asks, and you nod.

“I was living with him after my mother died. Until.. he sent a letter out that exposed what I’d done.” You say.

“He’s a human too, I assume?” Jungkook wonders, and you nod your head.

“though we are only somewhat blood related. We have the same father, but not the same mother.” You tell him. He nods, quietly, before he walks further.

“this is as far as I’ll take you.” He says, before offering the bag to you. “There’s rations in here, and something to help you on your way.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, but he shakes his head.

“take it as.. me repaying the kindness you’ve shown before.” He offers. Under different circumstances, he would’ve let you stay with him- but he can’t simply trust a kind face and gentle hands in times like these.

You’re still human. And humans can’t be trusted.

So you nod your goodbye, quietly, as you walk away from him and towards an uncertain future-

Leaving the prince with a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

Jungkook knows what the dragons are doing just a few days after you left- but that doesn’t mean he quite understands their reasons for doing it.

Sure, you’ve helped a young dragon in the past. And sure, you’ve been very sweet to the hatchlings too for the very short time you’ve been here. But why do all dragons seem to have this.. strange interest in you?

“You seem in thought.” Namjoon asks, as he places his books back into their respective spots in his library.

“I am.” Jungkook’s responds, looking out the window. “There’s.. do the dragons seem to be acting.. strange to you?” He asks, and Namjoon turns around to face him.

“..You’re talking about her.” He says, and Jungkook nods.

“They’re not very clear in their reasoning as to why they seem so interested in her.” Jungkook says. “and it’s most certainly neither prey drive nor distrust.”

“Its curiosity.” Namjoon finishes, as he puts another book between two others to keep them all in order. “Maybe because she’s living out in the open. From what I’ve heard, she’s not gone to any villages yet.”

“No.” the prince denies. “they.. almost watch over her.” He shakes his head, arms crossed. “Feann keeps flying over the area she currently resides in. And Gowren apparently keeps her company at night.” He explains, remembering the things he’s heard from the wild dragons of the area. “But they refuse to tell me their reasons as to why.”

“protectiveness. Interesting, considering she’s got no Hiwern blood.” Namjoon agrees with the prince’s suspicion. “they should naturally be wary of her- but if you remember, the hatchlings didn’t mind her either.” He offers.

You definitely spoke the truth when claiming that you were human, that much he knows. So why this interest in you?

“Maybe you could send out someone to check up on her.” Namjoon says. “I know this is making you nervous.”

“I probably have to.” Jungkook agrees. “I don’t want them to become too friendly with a human. The younglings might misunderstand, and lose their natural fear of humans.” He worries, and Namjoon nods.

“How about you send out Hoseok? Yoongi might be human, but he would most likely just intimidate her.” He proposes. “and, Hoseok is faster.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook nods. “thank you.” He nods,

Walking out the library to find the man in question right away.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“Oh.” You say, spotting Hoseok walking towards you. You’ve seen him before, fleetingly, but you can remember faces well.

“You’ve come fairly far.” The man tells you, before he nods politely, and sets down a small bag of things. “these are sent by Seokjin.” He informs you, and you accept the bag that’s filled with some foods for you to eat, as well as a blanket.

“I- I’ll be out of the area soon, I promise.” You tell Hoseok. “I’m just.. not that fast.”

“There’s no need to rush, really-“ He starts, when suddenly, a young but large dragon clumsily makes its way down to instead almost.. shield you from the man?

“Huh?” you’re caught off guard, and mostly confused.

“This is.. something else.” Hoseok says, before he says something in a language you don’t understand- and you take it as a message to leave, as you slowly get up from your spot, to bury the remnants of the little fire you made, so you don’t draw too much attention to your existence. “where are you going?” Hoseok asks.

“Away.” You answer. “I’m not sure where to.. but I really don’t want to cause any problems for you or anyone else, really.” You explain yourself. “Prince Jungkook gave me the chance to be set free and start over- it would be ungrateful not to take it.” You tell him, and he nods.

It's not his place to question your actions.

And so he makes his way back, returns to the safety of his home and hidden town hidden by the high up mountains, where Namjoon already informs him that the prince wants to hear what he’s found right away.

“She gives her thanks. For the supplies I’ve given her- though I did not reveal the actual sender, like you told me to.” Hoseok says as he sits down with Jungkook, who’s just finished eating in his room.

“..was she well?” He asks, and the older Hiwern nods.

“She seemed fairly good given her situation.” He offers. “she is leaving the area as we speak.”

“I did not tell you to send her away.” Jungkook growls a bit argumentative, and Hoseok shakes his head.

“I know. It’s her choice she made herself.” He instead answers, though it doesn’t seem to pacify the prince very much. “why? She’s right in saying that it is for the best.”

“Id argue against that. Its for our best- but not hers.” Jungkook mumbles, understanding very well that you can’t just waltz back into the human towns as if nothing happened. You’re still wanted after all- and this time they won’t be so lenient, he’s sure of it.

“How come you’re so concerned, yet you sent her away?” Hoseok asks, curious. “We’ve taken Yoongi in, years ago. So it’s not like what she is could be the problem.” He almost teases.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answers, leaning his chin on his hand. “I don’t.. I’m not sure about her.”

“You’re scared of a human?” the older dragonblood laughs, but the prince just rolls his eyes.

“it’s not fear. But.. uncertainty.” He admits instead. “The dragons are awfully attached. And so is my blood.” He says, referring to his inner dragon. “I’ve been.. dreaming of her.”

“Oh no, I’d rather not know.” Hoseok jokes.

“Trust me, I’d rather have simple desire filled visions than.. whatever it is that’s going on. If it was just sexual dreams I’d at least have a proper explanation as to what I’m supposed to do about it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “But instead, I just.. hear her sing.”

“Sing?” Hoseok wonders, interested.

“Humming, to be precise. The song of the Daughter.” The prince explains. “it keeps echoing in my head, and it’s quite frankly starting to drive me crazy.”

“And you think sending her away will help?” the older man asks without needing an answer. “it’s what you think you need to do, but what you actually need-“ hoseok stands up to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “-is an answer.”

“..You’re right.” The prince runs a hand over his face. “I’ll send out someone to find her, and bring her here. I can’t go on like this.” He says with frustration, before getting up to talk to Namjoon.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

Maybe, sending Yoongi was not quite the brightest idea the prince has had.

Because Yoongi notices quickly, that despite being on horseback, there’s no catching you. He’s spotted you already, has called out to you- but just like a freshly hatched dragon youngling, you seem to have an ingrown fear of anything remotely human. And the distrust is also clear, as you do not seem to care about his explanation of being sent by the Hiwern prince himself.

He can’t blame you. A former slave himself, he knows that his own kind is never to be believed.

There’s no arguing with you, as you play a game of hide and seek it seems like, and in a way, it’s almost an exciting change of pace for the usual slow and steady life in the mountains. “Please stop-!” He calls out again as he spots you once more-

But you’re running. And by the dragons above, you’re fast.

His horse is trying to keep up, even through the trees and bushes, but you’re at an advantage as you jump and duck your way left and right, until you find yourself out in the open, a river flowing past in quick motion. You would’ve had to cross it either way. There’s no way around it.

“Don’t do that!” Yoongi warns, well aware of the slippery stones and strong current most likely becoming a death trap if underestimated- and you seem to do just that, as you make your way through, legs soaking up the cold water. “stop- you’ll get hurt!” He calls out once more, but you just glare at him-

A fire equal to a dragon’s breath in your eyes.

And then, you slip, and fall right into the water, making Yoongi lead his horse as fast as it can run next to the riverbed, to keep an eye on you as best as he can- but the moment you seem to lose consciousness, he knows he’s lost.

“fuck!” Yoongi curses, horse refusing to move m as a dragon dives down from above to help- body blocking the river for a moment to catch yours against it, giving Yoongi an opportunity to drag you out and into the nearby grass.

The silvery dragon watches intensely as Yoongi helps you cough up the water swallowed, while others swarm the skies as if they heard the commotion and came to see for themselves. “can you hear me? What hurts?” Yoongi asks, concerned but also annoyed- and you just shiver for the moment, seemingly accepting whatever fate might fall onto you.

The fellow human sighs, before he moves to his horse to fetch a blanket he packs for emergencies- wrapping it around you, before he helps you onto its back to bring you where Jungkook had requested you to.

He's holding onto you with one arm, your body leaning against his front as you sit in front of him. “…how will I die?” You ask with a hoarse voice.

He chuckles. “hopefully not at all.” He answers. “The prince will already scold me enough for having you fall into the river.”

You sleepily watch the dragons above follow hou both- and decide that you believe him.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“no need.” The man denies. “I can understand. And I would’ve been just as wary if I was you.” He offers.

“Why.. do I have to go back?” You wonder. “did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s nothing bad.” He reassures you, as he’s let through by the guards stationed a good while before the town begins. “you can sleep soon. Hold out a bit longer.” He requests, and you nod, trying hard to do just that.

But just as a concerned looking Hoseok and Seokjin help you down the horse, you can’t stay awake any longer.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“She’s still asleep.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook stands in front of the door to your room, as he’s been told.

“It is almost noon. I need to see her-“ the prince argues, but the older man shakes his head as he takes the hand from the door.

“She needs to rest first.” He urges.

“Rest?” Jungkook questions. “What happened?”

“According to Yoongi, she was scared and did not believe him when he told her he was sent by your request.” Jin explains. “She ran off, and fell into the river close to the south border of the woods. Qen helped- if she didn’t block the river and catch her, we most likely would’ve lost her.” He says.

Jungkook stares at the door.

“I’d like to see her, still.” He says, unsure why he feels this urge. He really should let you rest, but he at least wants to look at you, for reasons he’s not sure of.

“But do be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, as he opens the door to the room you’re sleeping in, a hatchling having entered from the window, sleeping soundly on your legs.

Jungkook walks in with stealth, not wanting to disturb your rest.

He stays near the door, not walking any closer, and it helps his ache quite a bit already to just see you sleep there. Like his mind if finally reassured again that you’re close by and taken care of, his chest feels lighter, not as constricted as before.

This is wrong.

The signs all point to one simple answer, and he knows it, as does Namjoon, and most likely Seokjin and Hoseok as well. But a connection like that can’t be, isn’t meant to work and shouldn’t be condoned nor explored by himself. You do not belong in his world, and neither does he belong into yours.

He has to fulfill his own blood’s final task, after all- bring a Hiwern child into this world, to keep his people alive for another generation. Something that only a hiwern Mother can do for him, as dragonblood is only given to the child by the mother, not the father.

He would betray his entire kind if he was to give into whatever this sick and twisted joke of nature is.

And he can’t do that, especially not as a prince. He’s got a duty to fulfill, he’s viewed as a leader and example. Anyone else would most likely be looked past- but not him. All eyes are on him, at all times.

He can’t do this.

So he instead makes his way out the door again, to find Namjoon and cut this bond before it can get any tighter.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“I do not care.” Jungkook argues, pacing from side to side in front of the window of his study, Namjoon sitting down with a troubled expression on his face. “Yoongis situation is not the same as mine. He will bring a Hiwern child into this world, I will not of I let this happen.” The prince argues.

“You don’t even know if she has any emotional connection to you.” Namjoon tries to explain. “If you would just take some time and-“

“And what? Let this bond grow until we both get hurt when we inevitably have to sever it?” The prince scoffs. “I will not be the reason my kind fails to survive.”

“You’re acting as if we’re on the brink of extinction..” Namjoon tells him. “What are you so scared of?” He worries, and Jungkook falls silent, as he looks outside the window.

“Of setting a wrong example.” He mumbles. “Even if the people accept it, what if it sets off a chain reaction I can’t control? Humans aren’t to be trusted, let alone get close to. The fear we teach our children has to stay intact.”

“And it will. Yoongi still can’t get close to any of the younger-“ Namjoon starts, but Jungkook snaps his head around, still upset.

“And yet she seems to be considered as a surrogate mother for the hatchlings. Namjoon, you’ve seen it too- I don’t know what sick joke they’re playing on me right now, but I can’t let this continue.” The prince says. “she will leave, after we separate the bond. And that’s final.”

“I hope you know that you’re asking a lot of me.” Namjoon lowly says, and Jungkook nods, serious.

“and if you can’t do it,” Jungkook says, before turning around again-

“Then I’ll find someone else who will.”

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook x reader

[atlasnessie]

YOU MAKE ME SICK IN EVERY WAY — yet i love you all the same

summary: you two hate arguments .. what are some ways they apologize to you when it’s their fault ..? — dazai, chuuya, atsushi

DAZAI is a mischievous individual. you can’t tell what’s going on inside his head most of the time. you don’t know what his next move could be or what words he could say next. a sly fox, he was.

“you never even bothered to tell me ?”

“it’s in the past, what of it ?”

“‘samu, you’re basically cheating on me ! do you hear yourself ..?!”

dazai groaned and rubbed his temples in annoyance. half drunk and in a haze, he couldn’t bring himself to bother at the moment. this wasn’t the first time dazai had hopped around with other women, and he can’t help but wonder who exposed him this time … perhaps that slug wanted to ruin the relationship he had with you. his thoughts wandered off and your words went over his head, in one ear and then out the other. his face was dusted pink from the alcohol, and that’s when you’ve had enough.

grabbing your coat, keys, and wallet, you walked out of the shared apartment without a word as dazai’s eyes widened at your movement, stumbling and trying to take a hold of your wrist.

“wait, you can’t go ..! listen, ‘m sorry ! bella !!” he watched the door slam shut and collapsed on his messy futon, grumbling.

he visited your workplace the next day, a singular flower in his hand. your favorite, he remembered. walking in, he greeted some staff he was familiar with and walked to where you were, wrapping his arms around your shoulder and twirling the flower by its stem in his fingers in front of your face, acting as if nothing had happened.

“jeez, osamu, a flower wont fix this ..” you spun your chair to face the taller male in front of you, your face unamused as dazai crouched down in front of you, now eye level. he grabbed for your hands, the flower now on your lap. he was cold, perhaps a little nervous.

“i know this doesn’t fix anything. but come home, wont you ‘donna ? i’ll explain everything then.”

temperamental and seemingly always pissed off, you had to play your cards right when arguing with CHUUYA, his pride is on the line. and yet, the arguments are always about something stupid … nothing much to be proud about.

chuuya had just come home, and left with a bang of the door and you groaned in frustration. was it really that hard for him to sit down and eat something after work ? you’ve told him it wasn’t good to skips meals, so why is it now that he’s getting all made about it ..?!

the rev of his motorcycle was heard from outside, the sound of it driving off making you walk towards the table where you had prepped the food on the table, hesitantly wrapping it in a plastic cover. perhaps your boyfriend will come home soon and eat it …

the doors of the penthouse quietly creaked. you didn’t bother to wait for him, instead, you went upstairs to your shared bedroom and was already in bed, though, had trouble falling alseep. the footsteps stopped for a few minutes, ten at least, before making its way to the bedroom door. the light of the hallway creeped into the dark, cold room, and you could hear a voice sigh.

“i know you’re awake.”

no response. chuuya was getting impatient.

“doll, can we talk ?”

“what’s there to talk about …”

chuuya crept near the bedside, facing your back and stretching his hand out to brush your hair, but took it back to his side.

“listen, ‘m sorry i got pissed … i- i should’ve eaten.” you stayed silent. the bed creaked as chuuya sat on the side, frowning. it was quiet for a moment longer before the ginger spoke again.

“i ate the food you made. was good. would’ve been better if i hadn’t been so stupid and left.”

“i wanted to eat with you, chuu …” your words were soft, barely even audible. your boyfriend sighed again and rested beside you, placing a kiss by your temple.

“i know, ‘m sorry, babe. i’ll make it up to you, yeah..?”

arguments with you is the last thing ATSUSHI would ever want to do. though, with overworking and being the target of a few organizations, he can’t help but snap just slightly. everyone has their off days …

“d- darling !! i’m sorry, i really didnt mean any of that ! i’m so sorry !! please forgive me ..!!” you didn’t even have the time to leave the small apartment building as atsushi knelt before you, head buried deep onto the ground and pleading for you not to leave, apologizing over and over as kyouka stood awkwardly in the kitchen, watching the scene as the weretiger withered into apologizes.

“atsushi ..”

“i’ll come home early next time ! we both will !” atsushis head turned to face kyouka, who just simply said: ‘wrap it up. foods gonna get cold’ before walking away.

“i’ll tell kunikida that im gonna be going home early from now on. then we can spend the whole day —“

you sighed, interrupting atsushis words and picking him back up.

“i wont go. i’ll never leave you, ‘sushi. and ‘m not mad about you working, i’m just worried youre overworking ..”

as the weretigers eyes grew glassy and watery, he apologized. again. over and over. again.

in all honesty, you almost har no choice but to stay and comfort your poor boyfriend …

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #atsushi nakajima #dazai x reader #dazai x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #atlas writes !