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whore-ibly-hot · 4 months

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"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children.

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today.

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed.

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me.

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you, your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers.

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige.

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him.

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some.

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable.

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile.

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place.

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea, than a light-hearted scolding.

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here.

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed.

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost.

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk.

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim.

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize.

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you.

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence.

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips.

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider.

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here.

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with.

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat.

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet.

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls.

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast.

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue.

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you.

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins.

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands.

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant.

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely.

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

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alastorss · 3 months

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a/n: hihi @bri22222 !! tumblr for some reason ate your ask in my inbox but here is the cat demon!reader taking care of sick alastor request you sent <3 i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You had taken it upon yourself to become Alastor's own personal nurse when he got sick, despite his outspoken displeasure in being babied.

He was an Overlord, for god's sake, and one of the most feared at that. There was a certain irritation in him when you would show up to his room (which didn't even have a bed in it until he fell ill and you decided to push one in yourself, much to his dismay).

You'd sport all kinds of goods; warm jambalaya, his own mother's recipe, that he would deny even though he was itching to eat it. Some cough drops that tasted horribly of sickly sweet honey and lemon. Fresh boxes of tissues since he was going through them faster than you could imagine.

The worst of them all was when you would show up at the foot of his bed with little rodents, eyes wide and expectant for praise that would never come. Then you'd settle in his bed, curled up in his lap like you owned the place, and fall asleep.

While the warmth was nice, which he would never admit, and he liked the feeling of his hand smoothing down the hair between your set of drooping feline ears, he's not sure how much more of this he can take.

"You know," he starts one day when you sit at the edge of his bed, straightening out the duvet as you do. "I do wish you would stop fretting over me."

"You're sick," you deadpan. "And you took care of me when I was sick. At least let me return the favour."

He grimaces, remembering how miserable you looked when you caught a nasty flu a few months ago. Who knew cats were so pitiful when sick?

"Really, dear, it's fine! I was just helping a friend."

You frown, unconvinced. "And I'm just helping you back! Come on, you can barely go downstairs to get food by yourself."

"I'm perfectly fine!" He mutters between his grit teeth, smiling bordering on baring his fangs at you. Unfortunately, he doesn't do a very good job at intimidating you. Not after you've already seen his soft side of clinging to you like you're his personal heater.

Of course, his cursed demon body decides to betray him at that exact moment and he falls into a coughing fit, sputtering as he rakes in sharp breaths of air.

You're quick to climb over the bed to him, straddling his lap and forcing him to drink from his glass of water. He glares at you but drinks without refusal.

Alastor is the Radio Demon. Owner of souls. Entertainer extraordinaire. Yet here he is, taken down by a pathetic fever and being coddled by his favourite feline.

He carefully pinches your tail to get you to pull away from him, yelping in the process. "I'm fine," he hisses. "I don't need your help. I don't need to be taken care of!"

Your ears flatten against your head at his tone and you scramble off of his lap, cowering like a wounded animal.

For a moment he feels a flash of remorse, or whatever feeling has replaced what would be guilt in that black heart of his. He even considers opening his mouth to say something more reassuring. But then you scurry out of the room and slam the door behind you. His ears ring from the echo of it, then deathly silence follows.

Alastor reaches over to drink from his water glass on his own, only to realize it was knocked over in the commotion.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

He counts the days that pass, subconsciously or not, and feels his smile shrinking by each daylight.

Sure, he was quick to temper, but he had never lashed out at you before. It's an awful feeling that sinks into his stomach, making him dread what's to come when he fully recovers.

Worst of all, he was wrong. He does need your help.

It was peaceful at first and he enjoyed the silence that came without your company. However, he hadn't realized how accustomed he had grown to your ambient presence.

How had he never realized you were so loud when you made your entrances, or that you purred ever so slightly when he scratched just behind your ears? And was he really so weak that he was thinking of apologizing? He can't stand the idea that he may have frightened or hurt you.

It used to be so easy for him to sit with his own thoughts. Nowadays it's hard without getting to hear about your day or getting to fluster you with his incessant teasing.

He's cold, too. He would gladly let you fetch him a hundred rodents if it meant getting to hold onto you in his sick state.

On the fifth day, he decides he's had enough. The demon doesn't even bother knocking, instead opting to materialize from the shadows and jumpscare you from behind.

"I'm..." he seethes through his teeth, eyes thin and twitching.

You tilt your head at him curiously, prickled hairs flattening back down as confusion replaces your adrenaline. "You... what?"

"I'm sorry," he finally manages to get out, though it comes strained and awkward. Still, he swallows his pride and avoids your eyes while he continues. "I was wrong."

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, intrigued by the sight of such a powerful Overlord trying to do something as uncharacteristic as apologize. In the end, you can't contain your laughter.

He glowers at you as you topple over in your bed in a fit of giggles, wiping away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you sap. Come here!" You sit up and open your arms wide, a big, cheeky (and smug) grin spreading across your face.

Grumbling, Alastor shuffles into your bed and collapses into you, effectively crushing you under him. You don't seem to care, arms tugging him closer and tail brushing over his body.

"You missed me that much?"

"One more word out of you and I am leaving."

"Aww, so that's a yes?"

The Radio Demon only sighs, heavy eyes drifting shut in your warmth.

"Don't get it twisted, dearest. I will not be thanking you for putting rats in my sheets every morning."

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria (send an ask to be added!)

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ilys00ga · 1 month

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𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲.

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 1k

➞ synopsis: "yoongi and reader making a meal together for yoongi's parents" with a little bit of a domestic twist.

➞ genre: established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, just fluffy fluff fluff, they cook together, dad!yoongi, nothing goes wrong, dad!yoongi, just pure happiness, they also call it tooth-rotting fluff lol, did I mention: DAD!YOONGI ???, they have a babygirl uwu <33

➞ A/N: first off, thank u anon for sending me this super cute prompt, I loved it and had sm fun writing it!! second, EID MUBARAK TO MY FELLOW MUSLIMS OUT THEREEE <3 this is my lil gift for yall on this eid. it wasn't supposed to be this long tbh, and I haven't written anything for over a month, so, sorry if this is kind of messy and all over the place??? im trying to get my sht together again. but I really liked the prompt and!!! had to write it!!!! kkk enjoy bbys <3

ps. any form of feedback is reallyyyy appreciated. I live for compliments :) !

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It was one warm spring morning.

Yoongi was back from a long series of concerts just a couple of days ago. Grateful to be finally home with the two people that mean the absolute world to him. Your cat was purring on his chest as the two of you laid on the bed, enjoying the quiet of Saturday that had just begun, when his mother called to announce that, later that evening, she and his father would be coming over.

One thing led to another, and there you stood with your husband in the kitchen. One was chopping ingredients up by the stove, the other handling a mixer. Your two years old baby girl, Nara, was sitting in her high chair somewhere away from the oven and any other harmful thing. What used to be your favorite playlists playing ever so softly in the background as you fixed yourselves your favorite meals, together, was replaced with the mindless blabbering of your sweet baby girl instead, playing with the wooden spoon you had given her to play with some minutes before.

“Is this good?” Yoongi dipped the tip of his finger into the mixture he’s been working on, and carefully brought it up to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction as soon as the flavors hit your taste buds, a little bit taken aback at how he nailed your mother’s secret recipe only in the first try, “Great. You’re getting so good at this, Yoonie. I think you should take over kitchen duties very soon.”

He snorted, “If that means I’ll never have to do the laundry ever again, then sure.”

Feigning annoyance, you hissed at him, “You’re so lazy.”

“No one likes doing laundry, honey. Not even you.”

"You're so annoying."

Your daily bickering banters were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing from the other room. He left to take the call, leaving you with your noisy little baby. The chef hat she had on her head–Yoongi's idea, by the way, along with the tiny apron she wore as well–was almost too big on her. It made her look a thousand times more adorable that you immediately started grinning and cooing when she looked up at you.

"And what about you chef? Are you having fun?"

She balled her fists up and raised them in the air, wiggling in her seat to let you know that she wanted to be picked up. Being the ever so whipped mom that you were, you scooped her up in your arms right away, and peppered kisses all over her chubby face. Her giggles seeped through your skin and locked into your bones, aching with a sickeningly utmost adoration.

“Mom said they’re almost here.” Said Yoongi upon entering the kitchen, putting his phone atop the table and smiling as soon as his eyes fell on the two of you—his girls.

“Are you being a good chef assistant, baby?” He cooed, kissing her cheek, then leaning in to leave a peck on your lips.

“She’s been blabbering her life off the whole time you were gone." you hummed.

“Mom is going to have a good time conversing with her this evening.”

“We’re almost done cooking now.” You reminded him, “Honey, check on the oven please.”

“Right.”

A wave of heat hit his face as soon as he opened the oven, but he smiled once he checked on the muffins, “they are done.”

When he took the tray out and swiftly put it on the counter, Nara erupted in a fit of loud blabber, flailing the arm that clutched on the wooden spoon in the air and almost smacking your face in the process.

It had your husband giggling, of course. He couldn’t help but join in and engage with her blather, how could he not when he got such an adorable chatterbox for a child? “Huh, Nini? The muffins are done! Yeah!”

He took her into his arms, allowing you to go check on the stewpot that was still boiling on the stove, before bringing her to have a look at the tray of the mouth watering muffins, and cheered, “look!”

Your heart, yet again, swooned, almost oozing out of your ribs with how tight your chest grew to be at the sound of your baby’s joyful squeals. She was all excited as her daddy showed her around the process of cooking the dinner for her grandparents.

Nara was having the time of her life. For some reason, she's always loved being in the kitchen. Yoongi once made a comment about her becoming a successful chef, which then turned into a long, heartwarming talk about your daughter and her future. The gentle smile Yoongi had on his face throughout that was one to die for, especially when he sulked about not wanting your babygirl to grow up. His pout was so intense, you ended up engulfing him in a bone crushing hug for almost half an hour.

It was moments like this one that you wished were pictures so you could cut them up and hide them. Somewhere deep inside your heart. Forever. That's how you often found yourself observing and admiring every single interaction your husband made with your baby, and that’s how you ended up listening attentively as he continued to talk so passionately and earnestly with her, while simultaneously attempting to work with his free arm to the best of his abilities.

She, at one point, got so ecstatic that she accidentally thrusted her arm forward and hit him in the face with that spoon. But he only turned to look at you with an affectionate smile.

Struggling through a fit of giggles, you slipped the wooden object from her grasp and gave her a big kiss; making sure to squish her doughy cheeks—a trait that she definitely got from her father, “No more hitting mama and papa for you!”

The little girl’s squeaks only got louder as she reached out with her arms towards you, addressing you with more words of her very own and special language.

“Family hug?” you asked, glancing at a grinning Yoongi.

“Family hug!” He wrapped his free arm around you, bringing your body closer so that Nara could get a hold of you as well, then added, “but let’s make it a short one or else my parents are going to come to a burnt dinner.”

#yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #bts yoongi #bts scenarios #yoongi gif #min yoongi #yoongi icons #suga fluff #suga fic #bts suga #suga #bts fic #bts gifs #bts army

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leaderwonim · 4 months

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SEASONS

⤻ pairing. popular!sunghoon x shy!reader (ft nishimura riki and hanni from nwjns)

⤻ genre. fluff, hints of angst, brother’s best friend to lovers trope (reader is heeseung’s sister) forbidden love kinda

⤻ synopsis. park sunghoon, the notorious playboy who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend, was off limits. heeseung had made it clear to you during your freshman year of high school, and the rule still hasn’t changed even when entering your senior year. but what lee heeseung doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?

author’s note: wrote this out of boredom after listening to seasons by wave to earth 🥹 i love that song with all my heart. riki is so unserious lmao i love him. COMMENTS & REBLOGS are always appreciated 🤞

“he’s off limits,” heeseung says as he swings by your desk, watching as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, a post of sunghoon’s passing by. “i saw you stalk him, you know.”

“i wasn’t stalking him.” you say, shooing your older brother away. “geez, have you gotten crazier since you’ve left for stanford?”

“first of all, i’m not crazy.” he flicks your forehead, deciding to be the annoying older brother he was and rummage through your things. “and i’d like to see you get into stanford yn, i really would. instead of being boy crazy with your psychotic friends.”

you roll your eyes at this, placing your phone down to look at your brother. “my friends are not psychotic. plus, your stupid rule about sunghoon started in freshman year of high school, can’t you let it go?”

“never.” heeseung steps off your bed. “i know him, yn. you don’t, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

you blow the threat from your brother. if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living with lee heeseung your entire life was that ignoring him was easier than trying to pick a fight with him. he was stubborn as a bull.

heeseung and sunghoon became friends in the fifth grade after your family had moved, and he ignored your presence up until junior year of high school, where he ruffled your hair when you congratulated him on his graduation.

“thanks little lee,” he says, and it’s all park sunghoon has spoke to you, which hurt knowing that you’ve practically tried everything since middle school for him to acknowledge your existence.

“YN!” your mother calls from the kitchen. “oh gosh, i forgot to pack heeseung his lunch! can you drive to the university?”

your cheeks puff out, which makes riki who was currently on your phone screen, laugh.

“yah, listen to your mother lee yn,” riki snickers. “i’ll come with. i need to get out of my house anyway.”

you roll your eyes at his self invitation, hanging up as you quickly run down to grab heeseung’s lunch from your mom and your keys.

yn on top☝️

be ready in 5 nishimura, im omw

nishishi

ok.

yn on top ☝️

dry ass

“get in loser!” you call out. nishimura riki pulls his black shades down, eyebrows furrowed.

“the hell you call me?” he jokes, opening your passenger car door.

he starts to buckle his seatbelt as you drive, taking a sip from your stanley. “so why are you so excited? wait—i know why. you get to see park sunghoon in action!”

“yah!” you slap his shoulder with your free hand, turning the music a bit louder so you couldn’t hear him.

“oh don’t turn up the music because you can’t handle the truth. you just wanna see your brother’s hot best friend.”

“can you blame a girl?” you say, lips out in a pout. “maybe now that i’m 18, they’ll take me seriously.”

“nobody takes you seriously, y/n.”

“nishimura riki, you have 5 minutes to get out my car.”

turns out, nishimura riki did not get outside of your car. for a boy who was on the varsity track and swim team of your high school, he refused to walk the 3 miles that was left to go to the university.

“you almost forgot his lunch idiot,” riki laughs, handing heeseung’s lunch to you. “imagine you approach sunghoon thinking you’re all cool and then he asks why you’re here and you don’t even have your brothers lunch to defend you.”

“do you always wish death upon me?” you give him the stink eye, pulling him by his hands.

“little lee, did not expect to see you here.”

you knew that voice from anywhere, and you were almost afraid to turn around to face the owner of it.

“yah little lee, i’m talking to you.” it was park sunghoon in all his glory, his hair sitting all nice and pretty as he waits for your response.

“oh! uh—where’s heeseung?”

“ouch,” sunghoon places a hand over his chest. “i greet you and the first thing you ask is where’s your brother.”

riki cackles loudly, so loud that you want to slam his mouth shut and pretend you don’t know him.

“hi park sunghoon,” he greets, extending his hand.

although sunghoon finds the tall boy a bit of a cutie by his baby face, the way he was holding onto your hand made him already seem like a threat, so sunghoon’s expression is pursed into a poker face.

“heeseung is down at the corridor,” sunghoon says, turning back to you. “do you want me to give him that?”

you nod shyly, handing the lunch to sunghoon who smiles. “aish, the kid got into stanford and he’s still making his mom make his lunch?”

you could feel riki’s hand loosen from yours, his attention caught on two students who were currently dancing on the other side of campus.

“be right back!” he exclaims, running off to watch them.

“this jerk,” you whisper underneath your breath, smiling when you make eye contact with sunghoon again.

“he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” sunghoon questions. “who is he?”

he says that in such a bitter taste that makes your stomach flip, wondering why he was suddenly upset.

“nishimura riki, he transferred to hybe high from japan just this year. he’s really sweet but very chaotic.”

“ah,” sunghoon clicks his tongue. “is he your boyfriend?”

your words almost get caught in your throat, obviously shocked by sunghoon’s straightforward question. “what?! no!”

“oh,” he smiles. “that’s good little lee.”

“you should just call me y/n,” you groan. “little lee sounds so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” sunghoon says, flicking his hand. “it’s cute.”

“really?”

“like you.”

before you could even process it, riki’s already running back to the two of you, excitedly telling you about the amazing dance program stanford has to offer.

“let’s go! i have to go home and submit an application to stanford!”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow at the excited tall boy who was currently grabbing you, sending you a small wave and smirk when your eyes plead for him to rescue you.

“see you soon little lee.”

“YAH! ARE YOU AN IDIOT?”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?!”

you were currently scolding the japanese boy for ruining your chances with sunghoon earlier.

“it is not my fault lee yn!” he says, puffing out his chest. “plus, the dancers say there’s a party this weekend at stanford and they’ll sneak us in. we have to go, you can see sunghoon hyung again and i can see them!”

you pursed your mouth into a thin line, riki awaiting anxiously for your answer.

“let’s say i do wanna go, heeseung would never let me go to a college party, especially not with a boy like you!”

riki clasps his hand over his chest and pretends to fall over in pain on your bed. “how could you say that?! i’m a great guy. cmon yn, you can’t let your older brother dictate your entire life, you’re 18 now!”

although riki has said a million of stupid things, he was right about this. you were eighteen, and you didn’t need your older brother ruining your chances of getting a boyfriend.

“okay,” you say, watching as riki’s eyes lit up. “let’s go. who are your dancer friends?”

the weekend had came by quicker than you thought, and you waited until heeseung said his goodbyes to you so you could get dressed and do your makeup.

although you didn’t want to go overboard with the whole thing, you still wanted to impress sunghoon, because after all, there would be a bunch of prettier college girls at the party that were smarter than you in everything.

“wow.” nishimura riki’s mouth drops as he sees your dress and face. “you clean up nice lee yn!”

“thanks ri,” you ruffle his hair, which he swats away in annoyance. “let’s go, heeseung’s already there.”

“great, so are my dancer friends!”

the two of you blended in easily, riki’s height doing both of you a favor as you held hands and made your way through the crowd of dancing and drinking college students.

“little lee?” your face bumps into sunghoon’s chest, and you almost gulp when you look up at his height. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“well that’s my queue to leave!” riki chuckles nervously, throwing you a lazy thumbs up as he runs to the drink cooler.

“never will understand that kid.” sunghoon mutters under his breath. “but seriously y/n, it can be dangerous, why are you here?”

it’s the first time in forever that he’s addressed you by your first name, and you can’t help but feel giddy.

overconfident by the drinks you had pregamed with riki previously, you find yourself leaning closer to park sunghoon. “i came here for you.”

he blinks.

“here..” he states, glancing around the party. “for me?”

the confidence wore off in a second. you were now starting to get embarrassed, cursing yourself for saying such things in front of sunghoon who probably didn’t even like you.

“that’s sweet little lee,” he says, eyes crinkling. “but you could get into a lot of trouble if your brother finds you, you know? he already freaks about you enough, finding you at a party at his college at night will kill him at the spot.”

park sunghoon was right, your brother would absolutely rage if he had found out you snuck out to go to a party. in some ways, he was even more strict than your mom.

“hoonie!” the voice of a girl interrupts the both of you as she makes her way over, placing a sloppy kiss against sunghoon’s cheek. she hasn’t said anything to you and you were already starting to see red.

“oh hi! i didn’t see you there!” she extends her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m hanni, president of the pi beta thi sorority!”

you notice sunghoon’s hands finding themselves around her waist. although he’s probably only doing that to stabilize her, you find yourself too jealous to speak.

“hanni, this is lee y/n, heeseung’s sister.”

“oh!” the girl gasps. “oh my gosh, i’ve heard just so much about you! you’re prettier in real life! what are you doing at a college party?”

now you can’t really keep being mad at her because she seems so genuine when she’s complimenting you.

“oh, my friend riki has dancer friends who invited us.” you say awkwardly, watching as sunghoon whispers something in hanni’s ear.

“well that’s awesome, i hope i’m gonna see you here next year!” hanni then waves her hands, parting away from sunghoon. “i’m gonna go say hi to your brother, toodles!”

you watch as she makes her way towards the outside, most likely to the pool. at least you knew where your brother was so you know how to avoid him.

“hanni is really sweet,” sunghoon says as you turn back to face him. “met her a few months ago.”

“oh really,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “is she your girlfriend?”

sunghoon laughs as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “what? no—of course not. she’s just touchy when she’s drunk. she’s dating one of my frat friends, his name is yang jungwon.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, happy that sunghoon was still single. after all, hanni was a pretty and nice girl, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to pull him.

the two of you stand in silence for a bit, sunghoon staring into your eyes with his dazed eyes. you almost want to pull him in, close the gaps between yours and his lips.

“am i stupid?” he suddenly asks, eyes still in contact with yours.

“no, why would you say that sunghoon?”

“i still like you after all this time. even when i got to college and promised myself i’d find a girlfriend and move on, you’re always still at the back of my mind.”

his confession makes you wonder if you were hallucinating, not believing that the park sunghoon who you’ve been inlove with since childhood was currently telling you he liked you.

“i..” he doesn’t let you say anything else, choosing to lean in and kiss you instead.

it’s all great and feels magical until you’re pulled back harshly, the sound of your brother’s yelling filling your ears.

“LEE Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING AT A COLLEGE PARTY, AT NIGHT? KISSING SUNGHOON OF ALL PEOPLE? WE’RE GOING HOME!”

you want to cry in embarrassment when you realize everyone has turned their eyes to look at you, and sunghoon throws you a look of guilt and pity when he sees heeseung dragging you away.

“stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” you cry as you’re outside the party.

“me, embarrassing you?” heeseung scoffs, looking up into the sky before looking down at you. “do you know how much you’ve disappointed me tonight? first, you dress up in barely any clothes, then you sneak into a party with some japanese male exchange student, and then you KISSED MY BEST FRIEND?” you close your eyes at heeseung’s yelling, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.

“what will i do with you?” he grumbles as he drives the two of you home. “you’re lucky mom is out of town for two days. if i drove you home like this, she would kill you. and is that fucking alcohol i smell on you lee y/n?”

you gulp, knowing full well that you probably reeked of alcohol and sunghoon’s cologne at that moment.

“i told you he was a bad influence.” heeseung says as a red light comes up, turning to you as his hands were still on the steering wheel. “he’s going to break your heart and crush it beneath his feet, and who are you gonna come crying to? me. i’ve seen it so many times before y/n, my own girl friends at college have got with sunghoon and all he’s done is crush their souls and spirits. you think you’re any different because he said a few sweet things and kissed you?”

“stop it.” you say, wiping your tears away. “you’re being mean, heeseung.”

“men like him don’t change, y/n. sure, he’s my best friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend. he’ll drop you the second he feels like you’re inconvenient.”

you let out your first sob at night as your brother pulls into your driveway. although he’s still fuming mad at you for going against all his rules, he pulls you into his chest, letting you cry it out as he rubs your back comfortingly.

“are you okay?” is the first thing nishimura riki says when he sees you at school, frowning at your bloodshot eyes. “i saw you get dragged away by heeseung hyung yesterday night. it was really loud.”

“gee, thanks.” you scowl at him, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“if it makes you feel better, sunghoon wanted to speak to you.”

your head suddenly peeks up at this, and riki almost laughs by how easily he could change your mood.

“really? even after last night?”

“mhm.” riki stabs a fork into his mashed potatoes. “but he didn’t look so happy, so if you end up crying after, i have ice cream at my house.”

you let out a laugh at the boy’s words, silently thanking the world for giving you such an unserious best friend.

and just like riki had said earlier, park sunghoon was waiting in front of your house by the time you got home.

“hey.” he says, hands in pocket.

“hey.”

“about last night,” he seems to be looking everywhere but you. “i’m really sorry about your brother.”

“it’s fine.” you say, shrugging. “he was just being overprotective as usual.”

“yeah.” sunghoon steps closer cautiously. “i meant what i said, you know. about me liking you.”

“sunghoon, i like you too.”

he nods slowly, expression still glum. “that’s the problem though. we cant be together, y/n, you know that, right?”

“why?” you breathe out. “because you want to keep playing girls at your college?”

his eyebrows furrow deeply. “what? no? i’m just—i can’t be with you!” he steps backwards. “i’ll ruin your life, you said it yourself, i play girls at stanford. what’s to say i wont do the same to you?”

“i have known you since you were 10 sunghoon!” you say, throwing up your hands exasperated. “i know you can change for the better. i won’t let you go away this easily, not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

“really?” sunghoon whispers, eyes teary. “you’ve spent your entire life loving me?”

“i have.” you walk up to sunghoon, cupping his face into your hands. “and i’ll love you for my next life if i have to.”

he laughs quietly, head tilting as he admired your face.

“little lee,” he says softly. “you really are a gem, aren’t you?”

park sunghoon being park sunghoon doesn’t let you reply to his words, instead shutting you up with a long kiss on the lips.

“wow.” you say as you pull away, making the older boy giggle. “lee heeseung is so gonna kill the both of us after the life lecture he gave me last night.”

“can’t kill me if i move away to antarctica.” sunghoon smirks, watching as your expression changes in a millisecond.

“YAH PARK SUNGHOON! YOU ARE NOT MOVING ANTARCTICA AFTER JUST CONFESSING TO ME!”

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wndaswife · 5 months

Text

secret santa | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Your stepmother could not be more happy to have you back home for the holidays. To celebrate, she’s planned a very special surprise for you.

Word count: 9143

Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, some angst, strap-ons, blowjobs, spanking, cunnilingus, i don’t know the word for usage of a leash and collar, but there is leash and collar usage in this, so i suppose… mild pet play?, mommy kink, praise kink, dom!wanda maximoff

gif credit to vanessacarlysle

Since mid-November, neither you nor Wanda have had very much time to see each other; exams had started for you, and Wanda was working exceptionally hard within the Church Committee to organize the upcoming Christmas events.

As such, you hadn’t been able to do much but call each other when you could during some evenings and text throughout the day.

It was a pain, because although calling and texting stayed some burning desire to see each other, it also simultaneously added fuel to the fire, knowing that neither of you were really with the other.

So you were extraordinarily excited to spend the next two whole weeks with Wanda, and she was excited to see you too. While you were packing, you had even been on a call with her as she got ready for bed, making sure you packed all that you needed to and that you were ready for your trip home.

There was always something so captivating about watching Wanda get ready for bed, whether it was the brushing of her hair or the way she applied her expensive moisturizer and ran her fingers across her face and down her neck, or watching her do it all in her silk slip that revealed so much of her smooth-as-cream skin — really, all you knew was that you couldn’t wait to see her again.

On the twentieth of December, you came home, and it was your father who came out of the house first and greeted you, asking how you were and taking your bags from the trunk.

Though you told Wanda practically everything that happened while you were away, there were some things she kept to herself — things that stayed between the two of you. Sometimes you forgot that Wanda didn’t tell Vision everything, for you were surprised, here and there, that he asked about things that you’d already told his wife.

He did ask Wanda about you, for he knew you seemed much more inclined to speak with your stepmother about your day-to-day life than you were in speaking with him, which was rather natural.

In these instances, Wanda liked any excuse to talk about you, to gush about how proud she was of you and to share in the excitement of having you back home.

In fact, with the holidays coming around, the mothers at the Church Committee began to speak more frequently about their children coming home for the holidays too, and Wanda loved when they asked about you. She’d been spending hours upon hours a week planning events with the church, and because Westview was rather small, the church had ties to nearly every city event as well as those for the elementary school, so being able to talk about you during those tiresome hours was especially refreshing.

“Wanda’s inside just about to finish baking the banana bread,” Vision said as he began advancing up the stairs. “Some of Wanda’s committee friends are joining us for dinner in an hour. I’m not sure if she told you.”

She didn’t tell you about that.

But no matter; you could deal with a few extra guests, because what mattered now was that you were home and Wanda was in the next room.

When you entered the kitchen, Wanda’s hair was tied back and she had an apron around her waist — a telltale sign that she had been cooking if not already obvious from the smell of dinner coming from the dining room. She had just put the banana bread in the oven, and she straightened and turned to you.

She took her oven mitts off and you immediately approached each other with Wanda’s arms outreached and a warm, happy smile on her lips. You wrapped your arms around her waist and hers came around your torso.

You buried your nose in her hair and she kissed your shoulder and up your neck.

“Y/N…” she muttered into your skin, slowly warming from the cold air outside. One of her hands pushed up the back of your neck and she rubbed the pads of her fingers against the back of your head.

“You smell really good.”

Wanda laughed and she pulled away to hold your face in her hands, rubbing the cold of your cheeks away with her warm thumbs. “It’s because I’ve been cooking for nearly three hours,” she said.

She looked down at you still in your jacket. “What are you still doing in this, hm?” she asked, letting go of you and unzipping your jacket. She slid it down your arms. “That is no way to greet your stepmother — still in your jacket and all.”

You smiled. “I missed you so much, Wanda,” you said. You leaned forward and kissed her lips. There was flour on the bottom lip. You raised your hand and parted from her lips to brush it away gently.

With her arms still around your shoulders, Wanda pulled you closer for a deeper kiss, then parted to pepper kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “I missed you too, angel,” she whispered.

The sounds of Vision’s footsteps echoed down the staircase and Wanda straightened and you parted from each other. She began undoing her apron.

“How was the drive, sweetheart?” she asked, rubbing her thumb against your cheek adoringly, then pulling her hand away to untie her apron.

You and Wanda spoke while you helped clean the kitchen, with her telling you how things led up to her inviting some of her committee friends over for dinner. It felt like it normally did, talking with Wanda over the phone, but this time when you looked over at her, she was really there.

This time, you could really reach over and touch her, sneak a few kisses, hold her, watch her as she was wiping down the counters and setting the table.

Gods, how you missed her.

“You should get changed,” Wanda said, setting down the cloth and undoing her hair. She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her pants and pulled you towards her, turning you so your ass was pressed against the counter and her hips were pressed against yours.

You flushed and craned your neck to the side to see if perhaps your dad was coming down from upstairs without having been heard — he had said he was going to make a few work calls while he could so he was available throughout the evening.

With her fingers against your jaw, Wanda turned your head so you were looking at her again. “You’re going to make me jealous,” she whispered low, “giving your attention to anything but me.” She grinned as she watched your cheeks tint in a warm blush.

“How I’ve missed teasing you, sweetheart.” Wanda wrapped an arm around your hips and trailed her hand down to squeeze your ass. “Tell mommy you miss her teasing,” she pried, sticking out her bottom lip and pleading with her eyes.

“M-Mommy, I missed your teasing,” you replied with a swallow. Having Wanda talk to you this way was nothing like it was over the phone, and certainly not over text either. You were almost ashamed that you’d nearly forgotten how much of an effect she had on you.

Wanda seemed delighted, but not only because of your submission, but because it’d been so long since you’d been home with her. Even in visiting you at your place when she could, it wasn’t the same as having you home. It was the warmth and comfort of having you close at home that was special, and knowing you’d be there for a good while, during the mornings and the evenings.

She kissed the tip of your nose.

“Would you like to choose what I’m going to wear tonight?” she asked.

You nodded, incredibly eager.

Wanda’s smile widened and she released you from between her and the counter. She wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close as you walked upstairs together. She rubbed your side with her warm hand while you nuzzled your face against her shoulder. “My little angel missed her mommy this much?”

You turned your whole body around in her arm and hugged her, burying your face in her neck and nodding.

“Oh, honey…” Wanda whispered, rubbing her hand against your back, her other arm secure around your waist. “I know. I missed you too. I’m so happy that you’re home.”

Now that you were in Wanda’s arms, being held close to her while she comforted you, you were reminded just how much you missed being home. The visits weren’t the same as being home with her. Maybe you were overestimating because of how difficult this semester’s exams had been, but regardless, you were so happy to be with her.

“Baby, I have a surprise for you,” she said, kissing the side of your head. You raised your head from her shoulder and looked at her curiously. “I booked a hotel for us to stay in for the next two days. I need to get a bit more Christmas shopping done, and I wanted to spend some time with just you.” She explained how she had worded it to Vision.

You beamed. “Really?” you asked. You could only imagine it — spending some of the snowy season with just Wanda, having your own hotel room to come back to after spending the day together, being with her from the moment you woke up to the moment you fell asleep.

Wanda pinched your nose and wiggled your head side to side gently. “Yes, really, sweetheart,” she said and let go of you to peck your lips. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

The way your body was practically vibrating told Wanda that you were on the brink of shouting out excitedly and she quickly told you to keep it down because Vision’s office was just down the hall and that he was still taking calls. She kissed you tenderly. “And I have one more surprise for you once we get there,” she told you. “But you’ll have to be a good girl and wait — no hints.”

As promised, Wanda let you pick out her outfit for the dinner, but because Vision had been so close and was likely going to finish up his calls soon, she didn’t allow you to watch her get changed or vice versa; you changed alone in your bedroom and Wanda in hers.

During dinner, you were reminded of the earlier days before you had started seeing your stepmother — watching her from afar, her charming smiles and her warm laughs, her subtle glances at you and how easy it was for her to slip into and start conversations. That is all to say, however, that for the entirety of dinner, you were watching Wanda from afar, interacting very little with her aside from the casual conversion that the typical stepmother and stepdaughter had.

Conversation with her, when had, was affectionate, certainly, but was nothing close to what you wish you could partake in with her after so long of being without her; you could hardly wait to spend all of the next two days together.

In the evening after dinner and while you were getting ready for bed — Wanda’s committee friends insisted they do all the clean-up — Wanda came up to your bedroom after her friends had gone. There was a quiet knock on your bedroom door, and you opened it to Wanda stepping into your bedroom and giving you a kiss.

She closed the bedroom door behind her.

“I know we didn’t get to spend much time together tonight, honey.” She held your face in her hand, stroking your cheek with her thumb gently. You held her other hand with yours. “But for the rest of the holiday, especially during the next two days, I’ll be all yours.” She kissed your forehead tenderly.

She pressed her forehead against yours, meeting your eyes with a soft smile as she uttered a soft, “Goodnight, Y/N. I’m so happy that you’re back home.”

In the morning, you began to stir from your sleep when your bed dipped beneath you. Then you were enveloped in a warmth, one that reached your body through your blankets.

Wanda had an arm wrapped around your torso and she leaned down to you while sitting on the edge of your bed, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Wake up, my angel,” she uttered softly. “Let’s get to packing, so we can leave early and get lunch together.”

“Mommy…” you muttered against your blankets, still half-asleep and slowly rousing from deep sleep.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at seeing your sleepy face, and she nipped at your earlobe before lifting your blankets and getting under them with you. You initially groaned at the cold until Wanda turned you around and wrapped her arms around you, covering your face and neck in warm, soft kisses.

You whined, “Mommy, I’m sleepy!”

“Aw, you’re sleepy, huh?” she teased. She bit down on her bottom lip and brushed the tip of her nose against yours. Her fingers tugged at the waistline of your pajama pants, pulling you against her hips. “Is my baby sleepy?”

A small smile pulled onto your lips and you tried hiding it in Wanda’s shoulder, but she wouldn’t let you shy away once seeing you all cute and giggly. She let go of your pants and ran her hands up your shirt, her cold palms flat against your warm stomach.

You couldn’t stop your giggles this time and Wanda chuckled. Her fingertips brushed against the underside of your breasts and you began squirming.

Then without warning, Wanda groped your breasts with both hands, kneading then softly with her fingers. She watched close as your face contorted, squeezing your eyes shut and repressing a moan as you tried burying your face in her chest.

“Why don’t you lay back, honey, since you’re so tired?” Wanda suggested innocently, then released one of your breasts to push you down onto your back with her hand on your shoulder. She lifted your shirt up without hesitation and exposed your breasts to the cold air.

She immediately dove down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, using her hand to tug at the other. Her tongue circled your erect bud, flicking over it lightly as she sucked and eventually parted, giving your nipple a gentle tug between her teeth as she did. Then she moved to the other and did the same.

“Mommy…” you moaned, trying your best to open your eyes and look down to savour the sight of seeing your stepmother touch you for the first time in a while. You could see her mess of blonde hair between your tits, splayed out a mess against your chest.

Wanda pressed a kiss to both your breasts then pulled your shirt back down before moving up your body and kissing your lips. “Feeling awake now, doll?”

You rubbed your eyes, slightly lighthearted to have been touched in such a way after having just woken up. You nodded. “Yes. Awake,” you answered.

“That’s my good girl. Come. Let’s have breakfast before we pack.”

It was only Christmas Eve and onwards that your dad would have his holiday break, so for the next two days, Wanda was really all yours.

Wanda made you eggs and waffles, and made them just how you liked them too. She knew how tiring and a bit lonely living on your own could be, and she really wanted to pamper you and treat you as all sweet little girls ought to be — and she simply just loved to spoil you.

You felt so taken care of with Wanda.

Mommy helped you back your things, making sure you didn’t forget anything and offering to carry some of your things in her bags in case yours didn’t fit; she was always taking care of you, always making sure you were loved and attended to. Sometimes you felt like there wasn’t a single thing she did that she did without thinking of you.

The drive to New York felt like a dream — and quite literally. Often, when you were away from Wanda, you dreamt about things like watching movies together or making dinner or going on a long car ride with her, such things that were rather casual but meant so much.

In the warm car listening to Christmas tunes while both you and Wanda spoke about an assortment of things, the snow blew wildly past your windows.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Wanda asked, eyes on the road though her right hand came to rub your thigh affectionately.

You looked over to her, garnering your stepmother’s attention for a split second before she looked back to the road. “I’m just happy to be here with you,” you answered.

You watched as a smile spread onto Wanda’s face.

“Oh, Y/N.” She practically gushed; she even seemed like she was blushing. It wasn’t rare for Wanda to blush with you, but you always really liked when she did. “I’m happy to be here with you too.” She squeezed your knee.

The hotel Wanda had booked was rather nice, and seemed expensive, though that could’ve been partly attributed to how beautifully decorated it was for the holidays; there was a large lit up and decorated tree at the center of the lobby, as well as lights and hanging holly and ivy, with prop gifts and other decorations placed around lobby, but also throughout the entirety of the hotel.

“Would you like to go shopping after dinner?” Wanda asked as the two of you set your bags down on the bed in your room.

You slumped down on the bed, a singular Queen in the center of the room, and ran your arms up and down the expanse of it. “Yes — dinner then shopping,” you answered with a nod.

Wanda grinned at seeing you laying down so relaxed and she approached you. Walking between your knees, she pushed your shirt up and pressed a kiss to your belly. Then she pulled it back down and stood above you, looking down at you. She rubbed her hands against your sides.

“Let’s shower first?” she suggested, looking at how sleepy you looked.

You opened your eyes and smiled. “Yes, please,” you answered.

In the shower, Wanda lathered your body in soap with her hands then washed your hair, making sure to rinse you thoroughly in the warm shower water.

When it was your turn, she was enjoyably surprised when you chose to massage her shoulders beneath the water, stepping back against you and letting you touch her. More than simply being massaged, she liked just simply being touched by you, and how sweet and gentle you were with her and her body.

“Y/N, that feels good…” she muttered at one point. Then, “I’ve been so tense the last few weeks. That feels wonderful. Thank you.” You weren’t sure if you were really blushing that hard or if it was the shower’s hot water.

You loved being able to take care of each other; there was something so special about just being able to lather each other in lotion after showering and talking while drying up and getting dressed. With Wanda, it was so easy, and even the most simple things with her made you feel so warm.

You always had a place to go with Wanda — a place you belonged.

After dinner, shopping in New York City just a few days before Christmas was rather chaotic, but you found yourself enjoying it all in spite of how busy it was. The snow and the Christmas lights decorating the city and the stores, the bustling people all eager to spend time with their loved ones while wrapped in their warm jackets and hats, and especially, walking hand-in-hand with Wanda made the experience really special.

Coming back to the hotel, where it was just you and Wanda as it was in the morning and the entirety of the evening, solidified in your mind the idea that it was only you and Wanda that mattered in the whole world. It was only Wanda who needed your focus and attention, and it was only you in the whole world who needed hers.

You’d have to be heading home in the morning after tomorrow, reintroducing the reality that there was more than just Wanda to think about, but for now, you were entirely comfortable in this temporary truth wherein only she and you mattered.

If you were comfortable enough, you could almost make yourself believe that you had Wanda all to yourself for the entire holiday.

“Are you ready for bed, my angel?” Wanda asked as you set down your bags of gifts together.

“Not yet. Are you?”

Wanda shook her head, taking her jacket off and hanging it in the closet along with yours. “I’d like to show you the last surprise I kept for you,” she said, a mischievous grin forming on her face. “Would you like to see?”

Your stepmother loved when you begged, even when she knew she was already going to give in; she just liked when you asked her for things, so desperate for her attention and permission.

“Pleeease,” you pleaded, tugging on her hand and making her giggle.

She immediately gave in, of course. “Okay. Sit on the bed and close your eyes. I’ll have to get it out of my bag.”

You did as you were told, sitting on your bed with your hands folded in between your thighs, your eyes closed. You heard the unzipping of her bag and rustling of her clothes and other things she brought. Then you heard the padding of her feet against the carpet as she approached.

“You look so cute sitting so polite and patient,” she teased, tapping the tip of her finger against your nose, making your face scrunch up. The bed dipped beside you and you felt Wanda’s thigh press against yours. A box was placed in your lap. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

On your lap was a light blue box patterned with little snowmen and reindeer, tied with gold ribbon. Wanda kissed your temple and wrapped an arm around your waist, anticipating your reaction.

Buzzing with anticipation, you opened the box and carefully pulled back the sparkly white tissue paper to reveal a red and white lingerie set, and upon closer inspection, it was Christmas themed.

It was a two piece, with the top appearing to look like a red bow that tied together in the center between your breasts, a little bell hanging from it. It was also rimmed with faux white fur.

The bottom was coloured with the same red, frilled around the top with one ribbon bows on both sides where your hips would be. At each corner, above the ribbon bows, was an identical ribbon-like strap that went from one front edge, up your hips to wrap around your waist to the adjacent edge where the back of your hip was so the two ribbon straps conjoined just below your bellybutton.

On the side of the box, there was a headband with two reindeer antlers with a little bell at the base of each of them.

“Isn’t it cute?” Wanda asked. “Do you like it?”

You put the box over to the side of your hip so as to not drop it so you could quickly turn and wrap your arms around your stepmother’s shoulders. “I love it, mommy!” you cheered. “Thank you, thank you! I can’t wait to wear it for you.”

Wanda laughed and hugged you back. “Oh, I knew you’d love it, angel.” She pecked your cheek repeatedly. “Ever since I bought it, I couldn’t stop thinking of you all wrapped up like a gift, and those adorable reindeer antlers… I must admit, some of the pictures I’ve sent you of myself were when I’d been thinking of you wearing that exact outfit.”

She pulled away to speak low in your ear. “But, of course, mommy couldn’t tell you exactly what made her so wet when I sent you them. I had to keep it a surprise.”

“Do I get to wear it now, mommy?” you asked, pulling away and placing your hands on her thighs so you could lean close and plead. “Can I wear it for you now?”

“Baby, if I have to wait even another hour before seeing you with that on, I might just go absolutely mad. Please do put it on now.”

You started carefully taking the things out of the box while Wanda also took some of her own things out of her bag. She told you to get dressed and wait for her while she got changed in the washroom.

Mommy knew you so well; you loved how the lingerie looked on you, and you thought it looked really cute. Your favourite part was the bells and the ribbons. You really looked like a gift all wrapped up.

You wondered what else mommy planned.

You sat at the center of the bed like mommy asked, waiting patiently for her to come out from the washroom.

After a moment, Wanda stepped out in a lacy maroon lingerie set of her own. She had a black harness and a red strap already attached to it hanging from her hand.

Your whole body felt like it began to heat up at the sight of her body and her lingerie and how pretty and soft her skin looked, how beautiful mommy’s curves were, how nice and soft her hair looked, and the strap in her hand that was picked especially for you.

“Oh, Y/N, look at you!” she said in awe as she looked you up and down, setting the harness on the bed and tugging a bit on your lingerie. “The sweetest Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten. You look adorable all dolled up for mommy.” She leaned down with a grin and kissed your lips.

“Mommy, you look so pretty.” You admired her in awe as she straightened and looked down at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re gonna make me blush, sweetness,” she gushed, taking your chin into her hands and brushing the pad of her thumb against your bottom lip.

She stepped into the harness then turned so you’d be able to have access to where it had to be fastened. “Won’t you fasten it together for me?”

You nodded immediately then got onto your knees and leaned down to fasten her harness. Wanda watched as your back arched and your ass moved up slightly in the air. She felt her clit throb seeing you in your adorable little outfit all focused on helping mommy.

“That’s a good girl,” she said once you finished. Wanda climbed onto the bed and took a seat beside you. She wrapped an arm around your hips and pulled you close.

“Why don’t you make me happy and take mommy’s cock in your mouth?” she proposed, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I want to see my pretty girl’s mouth full of mommy’s cock.”

Excitedly, you moved onto your knees and positioned yourself closer to her hips as Wanda rubbed your back soothingly.

“Let me take this off of you for just a little,” she said, carefully removing your reindeer ear headband. Its bells jingled slightly as she set it down on the side table. She leaned forward and kissed the top of your head before sitting back against the headboard.

On your knees and leaning down to suck Wanda off with her hand resting on your lower back, you licked up Wanda’s cock, making eye contact with her as she looked down at you affectionately. You broke eye contact to spit down on her tip, before using your hand to gently jerk her off and lather it in your saliva.

With the way your stepmother kept warmly rubbing your back only encouraged you further, and you became rather impatient, excited to take her cock into your mouth. You looked up at her briefly, to which Wanda was still looking down at you attentively with her warm gaze, and you finally wrapped your lips around her cock and carefully bobbed your head down.

“That’s right, honey,” she urged gently, her hand moving up your back to rest against the back of your neck. “Deeper, if you can. I’d like to hear my cock in your pretty throat.”

You uttered something unintelligible as you kept Wanda’s cock in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, each time you went down slowly taking more and more of her into your mouth.

“Oh, that’s it, sweetheart,” Wanda cooed as your lips finally reached the base of her cock, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth. She listened as you steadied your breaths as you took her cock down your throat. Her hand came to the back of your head, her fingers gently weaving through your hair.

To please her even more, you began moving your head again, and this time, taking her whole cock into your mouth each time you bobbed your head down.

Wanda audibly moaned when you began softly gagging around her strap, your eyes shutting as tears began forming with the way her cock was entering your throat repeatedly. She never forced your head down, her hand only gently guiding you and massaging the back of your head and playing with your hair, but your desire to please her was so great that you were thoroughly enjoying having your throat fucked by her cock.

Though she wasn’t one for aggressive sex nor was she one for throatfucking, the throbbing of Wanda’s clit as she watched you gag and drool around her cock was too great a pleasure to refrain from jerking her hips up just a little — just to feel a little of the base of the strap rub against her cunt. She shut her eyes when she felt the slightest bit of friction against her clit and Wanda laid her head back against the headboard.

“Okay, that’s all, baby,” Wanda said, now feeling rather eager to move on and fuck you with how desperate she was feeling now. She leaned forward and cupped your face with her hands, wiping your saliva from around your lips and from your chin. Then she kissed you tenderly, stroking your cheeks with her thumbs. “You did such a good job, my good girl. I love seeing my beautiful angel trying her very best to make mommy happy.”

“Are you happy, mama?” you asked, laying your hands flat on the bed and looking at her curiously.

“I’m very happy, Y/N,” Wanda answered with a soft smile. “I’m so happy to be here with you.” She turned you around and repositioned the both of you so you were on all fours. “Stay here for a moment.”

Wanda moved over to the side and stepped off of the bed. You heard her rustling around through her bag and then her getting back onto the bed, sitting beside you. You sat back on your heels and looked at what was in her hands. “Honey, I might have lied — I have one more surprise for you.”

In her hands was a pretty red collar with a bell at its center, along with a black leather leash to match. You immediately felt your cheeks flush and your thighs press together; you had never been collared by Wanda before, and the image of her tugging you by a leash excited you immensely.

“Does this look alright to you, sweetheart?” Wanda asked gently, moving to you closer and stroking the back of your hand with her fingers. “I know we’ve never done anything like it before, but I thought it might be cute — treating you like my sweet puppy with a collar and leash. But if it’s too much for you, we don’t have to use it. It’s purely experimental, and I bought it only out of curiosity, so don’t be afraid to tell me no, okay?”

“I want to try it, mama,” you told her honestly, holding the leash in your hands and feeling the soft leather with your fingers. “But not very tight on my neck.”

Wanda kissed your forehead. “Alright. I’ll put it on now, and tell me how you like it.” She undid the collar and wrapped it around your neck. She kept checking in with you as she tightened it, making sure it was just right for how you wanted it. Then she tugged on it with the leash, also making sure it wasn’t too harsh on your neck.

When it was on comfortably, it made you giggle a little because the little bell jingled every time you moved.

That made Wanda laugh too; she thought you looked so cute. Then she put your reindeer antler headband back on and kissed your forehead.

Wanda was on her knees behind you, and you returned to your position on all fours. With the leash circled around her knuckles, she tugged on it and your neck was pulled back slightly. “How does that feel, honey?” she asked. She tugged again, a bit harder this time, so you knew exactly how rough it could feel in the case that you might want to change your mind.

You squeezed your thighs together and repressed a moan.

God, how could you describe how it felt to have Wanda pull you by a leash? You couldn’t think of anything sexier than being on all fours in a cute outfit she chose for you, fucking you with her cock and tugging you by a leash while you were wearing a collar she also chose specially for you. “That feels good, mama,” you replied, hanging your head and whimpering.

“Does it now?” Intrigued by your response, Wanda tugged harder, watching closely for your reaction as she pulled you all the way up so your back was pressed against her body. Her hand came to your neck and you whimpered. “That feels good, hm?” she asked with a smirk, her lips ghosting over your collar and up to your ear.

You squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed. “Th-That does feel good, mama…” you replied.

“Remember, you can tell me to stop whenever you need, pumpkin. It’s been some time since we’ve had sex, and we’ve never used a collar and leash before,” Wanda reminded you gently. She used her free hand to stroke your hip with her thumb. “Like always, it’s okay to need to take a break to feel the need to stop — even if we’d been having sex regularly, and even if you do enjoy the leash.”

You nodded. “I know, Wanda,” you answered. “Thank you. I know I’m always safe with you.”

Wanda smiled. She craned her head forward over your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “That’s right, angel. Always,” she said. Her hand moved up your back and gently pushed you forward until you were back on all fours. She pushed her hips against your ass and you could feel her strap press against your clothed cunt.

With her leash still wrapped around her knuckles, she placed both hands on your hips and began slowly thrusting her cock against your clothed pussy. The collar and the leash’s tautness wouldn’t let you loll your head forward, and so you were forced to whimper out unabashedly as Wanda’s cock prodded at your clit.

“You look so adorable, honey.” Wanda rubbed her palm in circles against your ass. She delivered a soft spank to your ass and giggled when your body jerked in response.

Driven by the thrill of seeing her pretty doll all sensitive, Wanda tugged on your leash and spanked you again. She tugged on your leash again in a quick jerking motion to make the bell on your collar jingle.

Wanda pulled her hips back a little and took her cock into her hands, prodding directly at your clothed hole and twitching her hips forward to apply pressure. “You’d come if all I did was keep going like this, wouldn’t you?” she inquired with a terrifying amount of curiosity.

“I… M-Maybe…” you stuttered. It was true — you were really that sensitive to your stepmother.

You supposed, paired with the clothed fucking, that she’d only have to utter a few dirty words and deliver a few spanks in order for her to bring you to orgasm.

With that knowledge of her power over you, there was no telling what kinds of teasing mommy would feel like putting you through.

“Maybe?” Wanda repeated, clearly still preoccupied with watching the way her strap pressed against your cunt. She slowly slid its tip down and applied pressure to your clit. “Shall we see how fast it takes?”

Your stomach dropped and you immediately protested. “No, mama! Please, I want… inside. I want you, mommy,” you pleaded.

Wanda didn’t respond for a bit of time. She put her hands on your hips and slowly began thrusting her cock against your cunt, watching as it slit down your clothed slit and brushed against your throbbing clit each time her hips moved forward and she pulled your ass back.

You hung your head as you moaned out softly, but also because you felt some defeat for what seemed like Wanda being determined to get you off with your clothes still on.

Your leash was tugged back and your head was forced to position itself upright.

“Where’s my little girl’s enthusiasm now, hm?” Wanda tipped her head to the side to get a look at your expression. “You’ve always been such a sore loser, baby.”

At the sight of your protruding bottom lip, Wanda added, “Oh, don’t pout now, angel.” She rubbed your ass soothingly. “You want mommy to fuck you? Is that what you want?” She leaned forward, her cock slotting itself right in the slit of your cunt and against your clit, and tugged your leash back so she could look at you better.

“That’s what I want, mama,” you answered obediently. Your stepmother loved when you begged for her. “Please, mommy. Please fuck me.”

With a pleased smile, Wanda used the hand with your leash around her knuckles and pulled your head back by your hair. She leaned forward further and pressed a kiss to your neck and then your shoulder. “I’ll fuck you good,” she obliged, her voice low and vaguely threatening. “Don’t you worry, princess.”

While she rubbed your lower back with her warm palm, Wanda slowly pulled your underwear off. You heard her coo in amusement, “Honey, you’re the first Christmas gift I’ve opened all season.” She pulled it down your thighs and you felt your cunt part from its sticky confines. “And I have to say, I’m rather pleased.”

You felt her move backwards and her hands were placed on both sides of your ass. She ran her tongue through your cunt and audibly moaned, her fingers moving down to your hips and pulling you against her face.

The warmth of her tongue and the coolness of her face against your swollen, desperate pussy felt incredible. You let out a long moan and grasped at the bedsheets. Her tongue explored your soft cunt lips, tracing through your labia and moving gently over your throbbing clit. She dipped into your opening and groaned at the flavor of where you tasted the sweetest.

Greedily, her lips wrapped around you and sucked, her tongue flattening to taste as much of you as she could. When your moans became breathless and more restrained, Wanda pulled away against her own urges of gluttony, but not before lapping up around your inner thighs and around your cunt.

“I missed tasting you,” Wanda told you and completely removed your underwear from around your knees and tossed it aside onto the bed.

“Mommy…” you uttered quietly, feeling your cheeks flush.

Wanda reached back, where she had placed down a bottle of lube that she’d brought with the harness. She lathered enough onto her cock and laid it down where your panties were. Then she tightened her grip on your leash again. “Are you ready, baby?”

You nodded, nearly about to cry from how pent up you were feeling. “I’m ready.”

With a hand around your cock and the other around your hip to keep you steady, Wanda slipped her tip past your opening then steadily pushed herself inside of you. She watched as your cunt wrapped around her cock, your body jerking forward slightly as you adjusted to her size.

“How often do you masturbate, my love?”

Struggling to reply as you braced the entrance of Wanda’s cock, you uttered, “Only the times when I send you pictures and videos of myself, mama.”

“Only then? You never touch yourself without letting me know?”

“Never.”

“That’s good,” Wanda cooed and rubbed your lower back. From the last time you sent a video of yourself, that meant that the last time you’d touched yourself was about a week and a half ago. She would deep in mind how sensitive you were.

A sigh was released from her as her hips finally met your ass. Her hand rounded your hips and she pressed her fingers against your lower stomach. “Do you feel that, angel?” she asked. “Mommy’s all in now. You did such a good job.”

Tightening her hold on your leash by wrapping it once more around her knuckles, Wanda put both hands on your hips and began pulling you back onto her hips. The tautness of the leash made it so you maintained the arch in your back, and so all your moans and adorable little noises were released out loud so Wanda could hear them.

“Ah, fuck,” she mumbled. “You’re so adorable, my angel.”

Watching your ass as she pulled you against her hips drove Wanda slightly mad with desire, and she began to thrust her hips forward, your bodies meeting with a greater amount of force. Then Wanda placed a hand on your upper back and pushed you down so you were on your elbows. Her thrusts quickened and Wanda delivered a spank to your ass, making you yelp.

“Tell mommy how much you love getting your cunt fucked by her cock,” she demanded, tugging on your leash and grinning as she listened to how difficult it was for you to speak with how harshly she was thrusting against your ass.

“Mama, I- ” Your words were cut short when Wanda tugged you by your leash so your face was away from the pillow in front of you and you could speak properly. “I love when mommy fucks me with her cock,” you drolled out between moans. “I’m… mommy’s needy cockslut.”

Your wording awakened something within your stepmother and her fingernails dug into your hips. She slid out of you and turned you around. She repositioned the both of you so she was laying down, one elbow holding herself up. With your leash around her knuckles, she tugged you forward as if you were a dog so you had to crawl up her legs and up her body.

It made your whole body thrum with a warm heat as you watched how Wanda looked at you, with unabashed hungry desire — and all for you. She placed her hands on your hips and had you sit on her cock, your thighs straddling her hips and your hands on your knees. She smiled at your strained little face as you took her thick cock into you again.

“I would like to see you without this now.” Wanda reached up and you leaned forward to allow her to reach your torso. She undid your bra and wrapped her arms around your waist, bringing you forward to allow her to wrap her lips around one of your nipples.

Her warm hands moved up the smooth curve of your back as she kissed your breasts and then up to your neck. She straightened you back up and sat herself up so she could reach back and unclip her own bra.

A hand came to the back of your head and she led you towards her breasts, and you wrapped your lips around one of her nipples. A soft, relieved sigh escaped from your stepmother’s lips and she laid down flat against the bed.

As you suckled from Wanda, she placed her hands on your hips and began moving you up and down along her cock, guiding you into riding her. Your warm exhales warmed her breasts and hardened her nipples and she brought you closer. “Always so gentle with mommy,” she said and kissed the top of your head.

Gently, she straightened you up again and made you part from her breasts. “I want to see you ride, Y/N,” she told you and placed her hands on your hips. “Come on, baby. Make mommy happy. Let me see my little girl come.” She let go of your leash and let you ride her freely, at times pulling you down onto her hips harshly when she wanted to see you yelp — which she quite frequently did.

“That’s right,” she encouraged. Her eyes shut in pleasure as the rolling of your hips ground the base of Wanda’s strap against her clit. When shopping for which toys to use with you, Wanda had been curious about a different kind of harness that was positioned a bit lower than what was typical, so it allowed for more stimulation against the wearer’s clit. She was rather pleased with how well it was working for her.

Her hands worked at keeping your hips rolling forward, and even you seemed to be reaching closer and closer to orgasm, resulting in your speed quickening and with greater force as you came back down and met her hips.

“M-Mama…” you moaned out. “I’m gonna come.”

“It’s alright, baby,” she permitted. “Come for mommy. Let me see my good girl. Come here.” She moved her hands up your sides and wrapped her arms around your waist as she pulled you down and rolled on top of you. Her hand cupped the side of your face and she thrusted into you as you laid on your back, your thighs tightening around her.

Wanda’s forehead laid against yours as she moaned, her hips thrusting in a slightly upwards movement as well as forward so she was able to rub herself against the base of her strap. You watched with your eyes half-open as mommy seemed to inch closer to her own orgasm.

Your arms wrapped around her waist and Wanda grasped as the side of your ass, pulling you up against her desperately as she sought the pleasure of fucking you at the same time as grinding her sensitive clit against her strap. Her hips quickened and your moans meshed together in time with the slapping of skin below your sweaty bodies.

Naturally, with how sensitive she had built you up to be from the moment she began, you came first. Wanda raised her head to watch as you came for her, and she stroked your cheekbone with her thumb supportively, whispering out gently, “That’s right, honey. Come for mommy. Let it all out. I’m here.”

Wanda came second, just in time before her thrusting would have become overstimulating for you. She buried her face in your neck and you wrapped your arms around her warm body. Her shampoo smelled so good, and the way she moaned against your skin sent her warm breath down your clavicle and brushed her soft lips against your neck.

You loved when mommy came like this — all close to you so you could hug her and make her feel cared for just like she always did for you.

“Mommy, are you okay?” you asked when Wanda came down from her climax and was gently panting against your neck. You felt her nod and she tightened her arm’s hold around your waist.

“I’m feeling perfectly fine, my angel.” She pressed kisses to your jawline and up to the lobe of your ear as she slipped from your body and brought you against her body. “I feel happy.”

With her other hand, she undid her harness and lifted her hip from the bed so she could slip it off of her body and place it where the rest of your lingerie and the bottle of lube were laying. Then, she took your headband off and your collar too.

When the two of you had been cuddling together laying together, warm under the bed’s blankets and talking about how much you’d been enjoying your time together so far, you lifted yourself onto your elbow. “Wanda, I brought a gift for you,” you said, proudly and with a smile. “I want you to open it early, while it’s just the two of us.”

Wanda smiled at you and ran her hand up and down your side. “Do you? Shall I close my eyes while you get it?”

You nodded and Wanda smirked at how adorable you looked when you were excited. Then she closed her eyes and sat up a bit against the pillow and the headboard, the blankets wrapped around her body comfortably.

She listened as you stepped off of the bed and went through your bag. She heard the crinkling of some wrapping paper as you took the gift from your back and lept back into bed, making Wanda laugh as you hurriedly tucked yourself back under the sheets with her — but she kept her eyes closed like she promised.

“Okay, open your eyes now,” you said and laid the gift down in her lap.

The wrapped gift was a rectangular shape wrapped in light pink wrapping paper patterned with gingerbread houses and tiny gingerbread men, with a glittering silver bow wrapped around the gift. Beneath it, was a thin cardboard gift tag that wrote: ‘For Wanda.’

Wanda smiled warmly at the sight of it, and she smiled and scooted herself close to you so your bodies were pressed against each other. She rested her head on your shoulder and began opening the gift.

What was beneath the wrapping paper was revealed to be a book, and when Wanda fully opened it to see what it was, she felt herself melt completely. “Y/N…” she whispered quietly, running her eyes down the details of the book’s cover and its perfect preservation.

“It’s a first edition copy,” you told her, carefully opening the cover and pointing to the print date of 1950.

Many months ago, Wanda told you of how she often had to move around with her family, often displaced by the war in Sokovia, and unable to secure permanent housing due to her family’s financial situation. During the many moves, her family was often forced to leave a majority of their things behind, especially once they found a route to America.

One of the things Wanda had lost was her copy of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, her very favorite book during her childhood. At home, she had a small statue on the living room bookshelf of a lion that reminded her of the book, but other than that, she’d never bought herself another copy.

It wouldn’t be the same, she told you, if she bought the book for herself in order to replace the old one, for it had been a gift from her late parents when she was young.

“Y/N, thank you,” she said, setting the book down on her lap and wrapping her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “You really have no idea how much this means to me. This is such a special gift.” She sounded tearful as she spoke against the side of your head.

“I love you, Wanda.”

She pulled away and quickly swiped at her eyes to kiss you. “I love you so much, Y/N,” she spoke against your lips and kissed you again, and again against your cheek and then against your temple and your forehead. “I love you so, so much.”

It’d been so long since Wanda immigrated to America. Her parents had passed years ago and though she often spoke with Pietro, she saw him most commonly during the holidays and sometimes during the summers. As such, sometimes Wanda forgot parts of even her own life — parts of herself.

It wasn’t at all that she forgot about her childhood and her life before America, but more so that as life went on and as she grew and aged, she thought less and less about such things in the past.

She cried after she received the gift while you comforted her, and she told you how much she missed her parents and how she felt guilty for not having thought of them and Sokovia for some time.

“Can you read the book to me, Wanda?” you asked once Wanda had stopped crying, but was still laying her head against your chest. She looked at you and smiled when you met her eyes in affirmation.

For the rest of the night, you laid in bed with Wanda, your head on her shoulder as she read the book to you. She had only ever read it in Sokovian, and she kept mentioning things about the English translation and how it was interesting how things were worded differently between the two languages. She recalled memories of her family and of Sokovia as she went through the chapters — when her parents had read the book to her and how she would be read to while laying in bed with Pietro before bed, and anything else that came to mind as she spoke of her childhood and her family.

You could tell how happy it made her to recall all those things, and also, how happy it made her that she was reading the book to you.

There was something really special about recalling and reawakening such memories with you; it was true that she couldn’t ever revisit the past nor speak with her parents again, but it was something rather special to share all of this with you. She couldn’t get it back, but she could keep it all alive, and that could truly only be done if shared with someone she loved.

With the gentle flakes of snow falling outside the hotel window, illuminated by the warm light of the nightstand by the bed and contrasted by the dark moonlit skies of the evening, Wanda spent that night sharing with you what she shared with no one else — what she would never share with anyone else.

To share such precious memories with you was to make them all eternal. It could only be you, after all.

Wanda had forgotten important parts of herself, only to find them within you. Love has a unique ability to do that — giving you a map of yourself, and a home within another.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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selarina · 5 months

Text

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

#the idea was to make gojo as pathetic as possible #but ya'll asked and i'm delivering #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader angst #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst

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svuguru · 8 days

Note

stepdad toji who caught his stepdaughter playing with herself after he came from work

Tags: stepcest! Antis and minors DNI I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume. Eee I’ll probably post a part 2 to this it’s just rlly late rn 😭

“Ughh, Daddy—“ you gasp, knuckle deep in your cunt as tears form in your eyes and you throw your head back. All day, you couldn’t get your stepdad off of your mind, thinking over and over about him ever since this morning.

You don’t know what happened or what he did, but he just… he’s been invading your mind. While your mother and Toji we’re away at work, you laid yourself down on your bed and began rubbing your clit, which eventually led to you sinking in your own digits, and you just went on from there…

Legs twitching, hips bucking, cries falling from your lips. You must have been to caught up in the feeling because your ears miss the sound of the front door to your home opening, they miss the sounds of footsteps downstairs and walking up and down the hall.

A cry escapes your lips, sinking your teeth into your glossy, lower lips. And while the noises fall upon deaf ears, yours are loud and clear on Toji’s, your stepfather.

“Daddy…!” You whimper unexpectedly loudly, and your fingers just aren’t doing the job, they aren’t enough. Toji’s hand wraps around your doorknob and opens the door, and his suspicions are confirmed—his sweet stepdaughter is getting herself off… what an unexpected, yet adorable, not-so-surprise.

“Something wrong, baby?” Toji asks, that mockingly sweet smile playing on his lips as he watches you stop in your movements, your wrist pausing and your jaw dropping.

Immediately, you remove your fingers from your sopping pussy, sitting straight up and covering your thighs with your skirt.

“Um…” you mumble in embarrassment of the situation. Toji laughs and walks towards you after closing your bedroom door.

“You shy?” He grins, “don’t be, princess, ‘s not embarrassing.” Toji sits on the edge of your bed, his hand creeping towards yours. “You just missed daddy, huh?”

Looking down, you pout and nod. “Uh-huh…”

“Aww, my poor baby…” Toji pouts in mock sympathy. “Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me, “daddy, I miss you! Need your cock in me.”” He says in an over exaggerated tone that’s meant to mock yours.

“Stop being mean!” You whine, reaching for his forearm.

“‘M just teasing, sweet girl,” Toji says. He thinks for a moment as his hand absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand. “You want daddy?” Shyly, you nod in response. “Aw, okay, okay, come to daddy.”

It must be the sound of his voice or his comforting words that makes you immediately crawl to him, or he cast a spell upon you.

“Need you in me, daddy!” You huff. Toji, being the caring stepdad he is, reaches up to caress your cheek before his hand falls back down to his lap.

“I know, I know,” he hums, “lay back.” So you do, eager to please and eager for your stepdad to fuck you stupid.

Toji places his hands on your hips and drags your body towards him at the edge of your pink ridden bed.

“Spread open.” And again, you do as he says, lifting up your skirt and spreading your legs. “Sweet baby needs all kinds of prep… you’re way too tiny f’me.”

“Uh-uh, promise ‘m not! I can take it, swear it!” You plead desperately, just ready for your stepdad to stuff you full of his dick and take you raw.

“Mm… no, you’re not, princess,” Toji chuckles. And when you whine yet again, he sighs. “You sure?” You nod. “Baby…. If ‘s too much for you, just tell daddy, ‘Kay? Don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby…”

“Mkay, promise!” And that’s when you see Toji undo the belt of his jeans, followed by his buttons and zipper, along with his briefs. You’re dripping wet, waiting to feel Toji rub his tip against your heat and fill you up with his cock.

It’s only a few strokes before Toji shoves his fat dick inside of your tight cunt, taking you by surprise and eliciting a loud gasp from you.

“Shh, shh, you can take it…” Toji groans, “mama’s gonna be home in a while, so we gotta make this quick, okay? And don’t be too loud, don’t want your mom getting mad at me.” And of course you don’t want your wonderful stepdad getting trouble, so you hum and nod I understanding and agreement.

There’s only a few moments of Toji staying still before he starts gently rocking his hips, a grunt falling from his scarred lips.

“Shit, you’re so—fucking tight…” You’re already clenching around Toji’s cock, his veins sliding against your warm walls from inside. He’s slowly sinking in his length, inch by inch to get you used to his overwhelming size.

“Too big, too big!” You cry. “‘S too much, daddy…!” Toji finds it humorous how just moments ago you were swearing that you could take it, that he wouldn’t be too big, and now you’re whimpering about how it’s too much and too big.

“Hush, baby, I know… You swore you could take it though, no? So just lay back and let daddy do his thing…. Promise you’ll feel super good.” Toji raises his hand and holds up his pinky as a way to pinky promise you. “Just stay still, princess.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji smut #Toji fushiguro x reader smut #Toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro Toji x reader #fushiguro Toji x reader smut #jujutsu Kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut

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mntozakii · 6 months

Text

sugar — lee haechan

pairing: haechan x female reader

tags: stepcest, age gap (6 years), unprotected sex, haechan is a little bit insane but it's fine ☹️

note: been having haechan brainrot so plz enjoy this

minors do not interact and all characters are in legal age

[unedited]

before your first encounter with the boy, his father has warned you that his son can be very mischievous. it turned out to be wrong because the haechan that you met was silent, you didn't have to know that he was actually angry. he believed that a pretty girl like you shouldn't be around men like his father, he knew that his workaholics father will neglect you in the future.

much to your delight, haechan warmed up and became closer to you since his father is always on a business trip. haechan just absolutely adore the way his father's young trophy wife showed up to his soccer games, coding competition, and took care of him like a good mommy. in return, he gave you a lot of affection and love. your sweet boy haechan who never disrespect you, listened to you more than his father, and indulged into your silly little hobbies. he didn't mind to follow around the store like a kicked puppy as you spend his father's black card.

haechan who can't be mean with you. at first, he wanted to make your life miserable but you were so kind and lovely to him. you think of him so fondly that it never crossed on your mind that he's taking advantage of you.

haechan who whines about his sore back so you will massage him and he finds it amusing that you laugh whenever he moans, if only you knew that haechan creamed his pants.

haechan who loves to share his food and feels his pupils dilate whenever your mouth opens nicely as he feeds you.

haechan who offers to do the laundry so he can steal your panties, he secretly touches himself with the flimsy silk.

to be honest, you weren't bothered with haechan's behaviour since you've seen how the boy acted around his relatives and friends. you assumed that it was only natural for him to be so attached with you, after all you're his new mother.

haechan has to thank his parents for making baby as his nickname because now he gets to hear you call him baby everyday.

"baby, don't forget to eat your breakfast"

"haechan baby, can you help me with the grocery?"

"good job baby, you're so smart"

four years went by and your sweet sunshine is no longer a pretty boy, he stood taller than you and looked intimidating than ever. however, he was still the same cheeky boy you've know. haechan attended law school, following his father's path. to be frank, it wasn't his first option but you had beg so prettily for him to listen to his father.

even though haechan was hundred miles away from you, he will still occasionally visit you. besides, he texted you everyday and updated you with everything. you knew the names of the professors that he hated, his pretentious classmates, and his roomate jeno.

"i want to see your face" haechan sent a selfie of him on bed with his messy brown hair.

"i'm on a date" you sent a selfie with his father which he replied with an eye roll emoji. you probably laugh at his choice of emoji but he genuinely felt pissed off. all he wanted was to see your face and he got a picture of the old man kissing your cheek.

"i miss having meals with you" haechan sent a picture of his pathetic dinner that consisted of ramen, few packs of sandwiches, and milk.

"my baby, please eat a proper meal" you sighed as you looked at his simple dinner, you'll remind your husband to pay extra attention to his allowance.

when haechan had few days off from school, he decided to suprise you by taking a flight home. upon his arrival, he was flustered to hear choked cries coming from your room. he knows that his father was home so he opted to peek from behind the door, his face turned into a soft frown when he saw your naked body on his father's lap.

"honey, please, i want to have a child with you" his heart burned with jealousy watching you hold his father's face as you cried, he never get to see your vulnerability before.

"i feel alone, the house seems so empty without haechan. it is a perfect timing for us to raise a child together, right?" his heart broke seeing your attempt to convince his father, haechan felt your frustration by the strong grip on the older man's shirt. he never know that you felt alone while he was away, he felt even worse when the accompany that you now wanted was in a form of a child.

"my sweetheart, i understand how you feel but can you wait for a few more months? once everything is settled at the firm, we will talk about this again" haechan had to physically control himself from letting a scoff, he knew that his father's promise meant nothing. the younger man headed to his room while he waited for his father to return to his office.

as soon as he heard the car left, he went outside to find you. his lips turned into a smirk when he saw you eating a pint of ice-cream, he was quick to attack you with a tight hug. you let out a shriek before hitting his chest when you realised it was haechan.

"haechan, you didn't tell me that you were coming home!" you reciprocated his hug and chuckled when the brunet pecked you on the cheek.

"i wanted to surprise you" he mumbled as he wiped the cream at the corner of your lips, he pulled you to the couch and kept you close to him. he wrapped his hand around your shoulder as he listened to you while the movie play mindlessly in the background.

"baby, have some" haechan smiled when you fed him the ice-cream. he found it very cute when you call him baby because he liked to take advantage of it, it almost felt like you will always forgive him for his mistakes.

haechan loved whenever you wear polo shirt especially if it was paired with a mini skirt. today, you were wearing his favourite white shirt paired with a midi skirt. you looked so beautiful, he can't help but to stare at your thighs through the slit of the skirt.

"why are you so pretty today? i want to play with you" his hand slid inside the skirt before he softly rubbed your inner thigh while maintaining eye contact with you. it wasn't unusual for haechan to be clingy but he should never touch you in that way.

"haechan, what are you doing?" your heart pounded heavily when his hand dangerously headed north.

"baby, your hand—" you tried to push it away but it was no use, his grip only tighten on your body. haechan leaned closer to leave wet kisses on your neck, he missed you so much.

"no— haechan, we cannot do this" your second attempt to shove him away failed since he was so much stronger than you, he didn't even budge at all.

"hmm, why can't we do this?" his mellifluous voice whined before he pulled you to his lap, his hands rested on your side as he eyefucked you.

"my father doesn't want to put a baby into you and i want to do the opposite of that, isn't that good?" his voice made the question sounded so innocent meanwhile in reality, he was talking about making you pregnant with his child. he must've overheard your talk with your husband, you wanted to believe that haechan was just confused with his feelings towards you.

"haechan, your father will get very mad at you" you mumbled as you reached for his hands, holding them tightly so he won't touch you again. haechan admired your effort to put him in his place, it was an adorable attempt. he easily pulled his hands away from you before carrying you to his room, he made sure to lock the door before cornering you to his bed.

"baby, baby, baby" he mocked the way your small voice always call for his name, he took off his shirt and sat on the bed. you can't help but to notice how different he looked now, his body was becoming lean and his features has developed into a handsome man. haechan held your hand as you stood still with guilt written all over your face.

was it your fault for spoiling haechan rotten until he thinks that he can get whatever he wants?

was it your fault for not creating a clear boundaries with your step son?

was it your fault for getting a little aroused with his little antics today?

"mommy, give me a chance to please you" haechan begged with the prettiest doe eyes ever, you are aware that you can say no, leave his room, and pretend that nothing happened but something inside you was thrilled to see more of him.

haechan grew impatient waiting for your reply, he decided to have you on his lap again before a brilliant idea popped out.

"you can tell me to stop and i will" haechan promised before he unbuttoned your shirt, he tried to read your expression but failed to do so. haechan chuckled seeing purple bruises all over your chest, you must had a steamy night yesterday.

"my father is a greedy bastard, isn't he?" he muttered before doing the exact thing that his father did to you last night, except haechan was aiming for your neck.

"baby, not on the neck, he will notice it" you pulled on his hair to take a look at his face, he seemed to be disappointed when he failed to mark you.

his hands gently groped on your tits and nipples, he alternated in between sucking, biting, and pulling on your hard buds. haechan felt his ego skyrocketed when you started to whimper and begged for more.

haechan positioned you to lay down comfortably on his bed before he took off your panties, he kept the skirt on because it looked lovely on you. haechan couldn't believe that he was finally staring at your naked body, he had been fantasizing this for years.

"such a pretty pussy" haechan praised you and chuckled when he noticed your hole clenched at nothing, he didn't know that you were already leaking wet.

"hmm, it's so tight, does he not fuck you at all?" haechan queried as he stuffed your hole with his middle finger, he moaned seeing you tighten around his digit. since he was eager to satisfy you, he added another finger and played with your clit using his other hand.

instead of making you reach your high, haechan kept on edging until you became so frustrated. he will rub your clit in the most delicious circles and stopped whenever you're almost close. the moment when he noticed your legs started to twitch, he will take his hand off your pussy and let you cry for more.

"haechan, don't be mean to me" you had to hold back a sob because you've been denied for so many times and it felt so painful. you tried to touch yourself but he gently smacked your clit as a warning, he wanted to see you come on his cock instead of his fingers. he got on top of you and let your legs rest on his shoulders, he gave a few kisses on your calf before pulling out his dick.

"i prepped you so well, you should be able to take it like a good girl, right?" he rubbed the tip on your entrance and slightly pushed the tip to elicit another moan from you.

one thing that haechan had always dreamt off was kissing you, he had various imagination to kept him on edge whenever he jerked off. he used to imagine fucking you on the mattress that you share with his father, he also fantasized about fucking you in the kitchen too. today, he will do everything that he wanted for so many years.

haechan bit his lip as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm cunt, it felt so fucking good that he wanted to cry. haechan leaned closer to kiss your lips and giggled when he tasted the lip gloss, you had put it on him for fun before but it tasted so much sweeter on your lips.

"baby, what's so funny?" you asked then laughed when he shrugged it off and hid his face on your chest as his hips kept on thrusting into your poor hole.

"this is better than everything i used to dream off" haechan admitted before pulling you into another kiss, you realised that the brown haired boy liked to be messy when kissing. he was so desperate and wanted to swallow you whole if he could, he slowly trailed down to your neck and started to suck and bite on it.

"baby, be gentle with it" you reminded him as you caressed his hair, you admitted that he was doing so well and it scared you. the younger boy decorated your neck with fresh red marks before he intertwined your hands together.

"i'm going to fill you up with my seed, get you pregnant with my child, that'll make you a real mommy" haechan whispered before he continued to fuck you real hard, every each of his thrust hits your cervix and drove you to madness.

"baby, no— haechan, you have to pull out" your hands weakly push him away but it only fueled him to pound your hole mercilessly, he knew that you were close and he wanted to come together. a few more penetration and haechan felt your walls contracted tightly around his veiny cock, he shot ropes of warm semen inside your pussy.

you can't help but to whine at the warm feelings inside you, haechan panted softly as pulled you into a tight hug. he caressed your messy hair and adored the marks he left on your body.

"did i do a good job, mommy?"

#nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #haechan #haechan imagines #haechan smut #haechan x reader

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florencemtrash · 5 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Three

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None that I can think of. Cassian, Azriel, and Y/n go to a romantic library

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“I. Can’t. Believe. It.” Cassian paced the floor in front of his brothers with his hands on his hips.

“I know.” Azriel said miserably.

“I can’t believe it.”

Rhysand smirked, leaning back on Az’s bed with his head propped up beneath his arm. They’d all been in shock leaving the Alcove. Even Helion had been uncharacteristically silent, contemplating what to do now that it looked like his daughter was mates with the Shadowsinger.

Upon return to the Sun Palace they’d found Azriel in his room, head in his hands as his shadows flurried around him in displeasure.

“You fucking ran away from your mate.” Cassian was incredulous, “Over 500 years you’ve been desperate for one, and the moment the bond snaps into place, you fucking run away? What the fuck, Az?”

“As if you or Rhys did any better.” Az growled. Already he could feel the tug of the bond towards you. It was part of the reason he’d run away in the first place. Better to hide and brood over this secret than overwhelm you more than he already had.

“He’s got a point there, Cas.”

“Shut up! Az should know better than to follow in our footsteps.”

“That we can all agree on,” Feyre said, breezing into the room and finding her rightful place on the bed beside her husband. He kissed her on the temple and Azriel felt a wave of jealousy wash over him. He had a mate. A mate who had flinched whenever he came too close. The memory turned the contents of his stomach into ash. Bitter and cruel.

“It’s not that simple. You saw her tonight. She couldn’t stand being near me.”

Rhys’s eyes fluttered down to the female in his arms and Feyre, always in sync with Rhys, glanced up at the same time, a look of regret in her eyes.

“Sorry, Rhys.” Az apologized, but he waved it off.

“It might not have been you. We’ve no idea what kind of history she has. What her experience has been with other fae. With males.”

Az’s eyes darkened, his shadows similarly taking on a more vicious tone. That knife in his gut twisted to the side at the thought of anyone hurting you.

“What Rhys means to say,” Feyre said, catching the flicker of darkness around Azriel’s edges, “Is that until you get to know her better, you can’t come to any conclusions about her actions tonight.” A light turned on in her mind and Rhys nodded his head in agreement, “You and Cass should go see her in the morning. Ask her to take you to the library with the romance books so he can find Nesta something. It should give you more than enough time to talk.”

“I will not be supervised by Cassian.”

“Why not, brother? You and your little Librarian can’t be worse than Nesta and I were.”

Azriel lunged at him, ready to smack him in the back of the head, but Feyre slid between them before he could get too close.

“No. No fighting tonight. You can pummel each other to a pulp when we’re home.”

“Promise?” Cassian winked.

Az rolled his eyes and frowned. “This is a terrible time for a mating bond, Fey. Koschei-”

“Has there ever been a good time for a mating bond?”

Azriel fell silent, unable to refute his High Lady.

“Rhys and I will take care of that business tomorrow with Helion.” She said with a tone of finality, holding Azriel’s face between her hands, “This is a good thing, Az. Enjoy it. Get to know her. Get to know your mate.”

Your mate.

The words floated around in Azriel’s mind as he lay in bed and watched the light start to bleed back into the world. He’d been thinking about you all night. You with your soft hair and sheepish smile. You with your mismatched mugs and cheeks flushed with color. He was grateful that Day Court life started early, because he didn’t think he’d be able to stay in bed much longer.

Breakfast was a quick affair, and no one missed the way the Shadowsinger quickly ate, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he watched Cassian savor every bite of his waffles, berry custard, sausages, and tea. Cassian smiled from across the table and Azriel scowled, silently urging him to hurry up. They were wasting precious time.

The moment the last drop from Cassian’s cup was in his mouth, Azriel was hauling him out of his seat and towards the window. Helion narrowed his eyes at the pair but said nothing as their leathery wings flared out without hesitation and they leapt from the Sun Palace.

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat when you opened the door, fresh-faced and smelling like mint and rose. You blinked in surprise, once again half-hiding your body behind the cherry wood door. After his abrupt departure last night, you’d paced the floor of your kitchen, aggressively cleaning the dishes as you mulled over everything you must have done wrong in order for him to react like that. Perhaps you’d offended him somehow? Things had certainly felt fine before. You’d enjoyed talking to them… especially him.

“My Lords,” You said with a quick dip of your head. Azriel cringed at the title and Cassian, for the sake of his brother, didn’t poke fun, “Um…why are you here? Or-sorry-what can I do for you today?”

Cassian’s grin was broad and mischievous, “We were hoping you could show us the romance library. The one you told us about last night. I don’t think I could leave the Day Court in good conscience without something salacious to bring home to Nesta.”

“Oh I um…” You glanced behind you at your living room. You’d hoped to finish reading two of your books on containment spells today, perhaps start summarizing some of your findings and look for connections.

“I-” He coughed, “We don’t want to burden you with this if you’re busy.” Azriel jumped in.

Please say you’ll come. Please say you’ll come. He all but shouted the words down the bond.

There was something so hopeful about the way he looked at you, as if he was silently begging you to say yes, that you couldn’t refuse him.

“No, no. I didn’t have anything planned. Just… just give me a few minutes.” With that you shut the door in their faces and ran to your bedroom, reemerging exactly three minutes later wearing a pale yellow dress with sensible brown shoes and a matching coat. Aside from your hands - which you hid within your deep pockets - and your face, not a scrap of skin was to be found anywhere.

You hesitated at the doorway. Both Cassian and Azriel stood too close, crowding the marble steps leading down to the pale cobblestone streets. Azriel elbowed Cassian out of the way, all but pushing him down the steps with you following six feet behind.

“Lead the way, little Librarian.” Cassian said when they reached the bottom, swinging his arm out to the side.

Despite the festivities that had taken place the day before, fae were already wide awake and winding through the streets with groceries and fresh baked bread tucked under the arms. The scholars were the easiest to pick out, milling about the coffeeshops and athenaeums with ink stained fingertips and the scent of old paper clinging to their coats.

Since the war with Hybern, the Day Court’s borders had loosened to accept more visiting researchers from other courts. Intermixed with the usual jumble of fae were tawny-winged Peregryns from Dawn, salt-skinned sailors from Summer, even the occasional fluttering of Spring Court nymph wings could be spotted, shimmering iridescent pinks and purples.

A quarter mile away, the weekly market was beginning to stir with life, offering up the best artisanal wares in all of Prythian. Hand-stitched leather bound journals, elegant fountain pens with a never-ending ink supply, satchels that could hold up to two-hundred pounds worth of material and still feel as light as a feather. Azriel would have investigated further if you hadn’t steered the pair down a narrower neighborhood street, a pink-stoned athenaeum waiting at the end.

“This is the 69th sector athenaeum.” You announced. Cassian coughed into his fist, “And before you ask, yes, the location was selected very intentionally.”

The Illyrian’s face turned a bright red, cheeks flaring out as he attempted to stifle his laughter. Azriel closed his eyes, one hand coming up to rub at his temples. You could have sworn you heard him mumble “Mother give me strength” beneath his breath.

“And what do you call this place?” Azriel asked curiously, trying to turn your attention away from a very immature Cassian, “The “69th sector atheneum” doesn’t have a very pleasing ring to it.”

You blushed, “We call it The Loveseat.”

“A very-” Cassian wheezed, “A very appropriate-” Wheeze, “A very appropriate name.”

You shook your head, hiding your smirk as you opened the double doors and stepped inside. The library dedicated to lovers took its theme very seriously, as most athenaeums were apt to do. Lush velvet couches, bouquets of flowers in every shade imaginable, and paintings of love and affection were carefully laid out in between shelves of auburn-stained wood that reached as high as the ceiling. Walkways criss-crossed above their heads forming a spiral pattern that ended at the domed ceiling where someone had painstakingly painted a collection of confessional scenes from Prythian’s most cherished romance novels.

Cassian may have been all teenage jokes before, but he melted at the sight of the ceiling. He thought of Nesta and tugged on the bond, letting her see the athenaeum before him.

“The more explicit works are in the back.” You said, pointing down towards the back staircase which would take any full-grown fae to the lower level. But Cassian had already drifted off, silently following Nesta’s guidance as he scanned the shelves.

“How do you know that?” Azriel asked once Cassian had all but disappeared.

“Hmmm?”

“How do you know the more explicit works are in the back?”

You fell silent, tugging your sleeves over your hands as you chewed the inside of your cheek. The Shadowsinger tipped his head back and laughed. Not a hidden smile, not a barely-there smirk, or near-silent chuckle, but a gentle full-bodied laugh that shook his wings.

You gaped at him, “A female is allowed to have hobbies, is she not?”

He shook his raven-black hair, the faint waves within it rippling and catching the warm light that trickled down from the ceiling, “I never said she wasn’t. And I would never deny anyone their smutty romance books if that’s what made them happy. After all, I am Nesta’s brother-in-law.”

You leaned against a nearby bookcase, absentmindedly running your ink-stained fingers over the spines and getting flashes of knowledge - the death of a brother, a night spent sweaty and spent under the stars, the exhilarating lurch that comes when two lips kiss for the first time. You couldn’t help but insert the Shadowsinger into the picture.

“And what makes you happy, Azriel? What do you like to do for fun?”

There was a pause, as if no one had ever asked him that question before.

“I like to spend time with my family.” He said, slipping into the shelves and ducking down so he could see you through the space between the books. For the first time in a while, you disliked the physical barrier between you and another person.

You shook your head, pretending to read the titles so you wouldn’t look into those hazel eyes, “That’s not a hobby though.”

He shrugged, “The nature of my work keeps me away from most things. I don’t often have time for things I enjoy.”

“But you do have things you enjoy, don’t you? Something to take your mind off the nature of your work.”

Azriel stilled, no longer moving with you and you realized you must have overstepped your bounds.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you-”

“I like music.” He said finally after some contemplation, “I like flying over the musician’s quarter in Velaris so I can hear what they’re playing at the theater. Sometimes I’ll sneak in and hide in the rafters.”

He’d never told anyone that. But you only nodded in agreement, as if sneaking around in your own city and into shows you could afford in a moment’s notice were a normal thing to do.

“That seems very appropriate for a Shadowsinger.”

The strange dance you’d been dueting came to an abrupt end when the shelves stopped, spitting the two of you out into one of the narrow aisles face to face.

Azriel smiled at you, exposing his teeth in a rare smile. Other than the smallest chip in his left canine, they were pristine - as perfectly imperfect as the rest of him.

“Now you tell me. What do you like to do?”

“Well you already know I like smutty romance novels.”

“Naturally.” He said, gesturing to the space they were in.

You looked around the room, breathed in the smell of roses and ink. You shrugged, “I like to read.”

“Naturally.” The Shadowsinger repeated.

“I… I suppose I like to sing.”

He leaned forward, as if it were a secret, “A little songbird then?”

“No, no, I’m not good at it. But there’s a pianist who lives down the street from me so I end up memorizing her songs.”

You wracked your brain for anything more to say. Something that would make you appear more interesting, braver, kinder, special… someone worthy of the attention you were receiving from this male. You had never been the most physically inclined, hence why the elite Bookkeepers - Librarians charged with the physical protection of their respective athenaeums - had passed you over. You weren’t one for baking or crafting or gardening or hosting parties or any of the rest of those things. You didn’t know how to draw, you’d never picked up an instrument, you tried embroidery once and found it boring.

“I think… I think that’s it, really.” You said, sounding defeated.

Azriel hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time you were thinking. Not for a single second, “I don’t believe you.”

“Well you don’t know me so…”

“Maybe not yet. But I would like to, Y/n the Librarian. If you’d let me.”

The feeling that crept up into your throat and lodged itself there took you by surprise. Some mortifying realization that you were becoming emotional in front of the Shadowsinger. You cleared your throat, dipping your head down and diving back into the shelves so he couldn’t see your silvery eyes.

“Tell me more about the kinds of things academics concern themselves with.” Azriel said smoothly, calling back your conversation from the night before as he peered over a dense set of bodice-rippers at you. If he wanted to take your mind off things, he was doing an excellent job.

“Hardcover versus paperback.” Your fingers skimmed over the book bindings. Bodice-rippers indeed.

“And?”

You pursed your lips, thoughts of Nesta and her smutty books coming into mind before you could help yourself.

“Ahhh, you just thought of something. Tell me.”

“I don’t want to.” You mumbled, but the Shadowsinger only arched his brows.

You rolled your eyes in defeat. Not that you’d put up much of a fight. He was the Shadowsinger after all, he could learn what you had for breakfast three weeks ago if he really wanted to.

“I… I once got into a heated argument with a certain erotica writer about the physical impossibility of a human having sex with a dragon-born fae…”

He blinked, tipped his head back, and laughed. One of those full-bellied ones again. You swiveled around, grateful to find that the only other fae on this floor were currently lip-locked on a sofa ten shelves down. They were far too preoccupied to make a noise complaint.

“It’s not funny!” You hissed, “There are certain anatomical considerations that can’t be ignored. You can’t-” Your futile attempts at explaining yourself were only met with louder laughter. It was infectious and suddenly that was all you two seemed to be capable of. Both of you doubled over with laughter on opposite sides of the bookshelf in a building that suddenly seemed too cramped, too small to fit the joy within.

“Please-” Azriel chuckled, “Please tell me how long this lasted.”

“I can’t breathe-” You gasped for breath, “Oh gods. Three months?”

“Three months?”

“There are nuances we got into. And they use a pseudonym so we were sending letters.”

“Letters?”

Luckily, or rather unluckily for you, you were saved from further explanation, because there was someone waiting at the end of the shelves with two thin fists propped up on curvy hips.

You bit down on your tongue as she sashayed forward, forcing you backward like she knew you would. Azriel immediately stepped to the side as you careened back out into the aisle, your laughter long forgotten. A new crowd was beginning to spread throughout the athenaeum - shy couples on first outings, sheepish young ones searching for the most heart-wrenching stories they could find, older fae looking for a little spark in their comparably milder lives.

But Azriel’s full attention was on you and the displeasure written in your tight lips as the short-haired pixie came out in full view.

“Y/n.” She said, a sugary sweetness in the way she said your name, like rotten fruit.

“Marsha.” You replied curtly, instinctively stepping back and closer to Azriel as the female moved forward to hug you. She rolled her eyes at the rejection, immediately taking notice of Azriel’s dark and towering form. Her small, round lips opened in a surprised oh before sinking into a low bow, chest jutting forward in an attempt to make full use of her small bosom. She wore the signature pale blue robes of another athenaeum - The Blue Drink.

“My Lord Shadowsinger.” More sickly sweet words.

For the first time in Azriel’s life, he didn’t correct her use of his title, already deciding from your reaction that this was not a female he wanted to associate with.

“It is good to see you out and about, Y/n, and in such distinguished company. Hardly anyone sees you anymore, my dear. I can’t imagine what you must be doing with all that time.”

You swallowed, “The High Lord has me on special business. But you already know that, Marsha.”

“Bah. Special business.” She threw a hand in the air, swatting away your confidence, “Busy work.”

“It’s not- '' You bit your tongue. Marsha was one of the few fae who knew you were Helion’s bastard daughter. A complex story that involved her close friendship with Helion's ex-lover who’d felt betrayed when he chose you and your mother over him. Since then she’d convinced herself that all you did was drain from the royal coffers and take advantage of her High Lord’s generosity like some parasite, “It’s not busy work.”

“Then why do you never share it with us? No papers written. No books published.” Even her frown was sickly sweet, “It seems a waste, doesn’t it?”

You remembered what she’d said to you, back when you were an apprentice. What a waste of a Clairvoyant. Your mother didn’t fall into bed like a common whore for you to choose The Alcove and hide your power.

She tsked her tongue, once again shooting Azriel a deceptively sweet smile, “Well I suppose you have other things taking up your time. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see.”

Your face paled, half in embarrassment and half in anger. By all means she shouldn’t have known anything, but as it was with all Librarians, she had a stubborn streak for digging in graves that should remain buried. You could respect her loyalty to her friend. The rest you could not.

Your mother didn’t fall into bed like a common whore for you to choose The Alcove and hide your power.

“I’m happy for the pair of you.”

Bullshit.

You finally opened your mouth to correct her, but Azriel spoke first, one hand ghosting ever so close to the square of your back, but never making contact, “Thank you. We were just leaving.” Azriel said curtly, jaw clenched. With just a few polite, yet dangerous words from the Shadowsinger, Marsha clamped her mouth shut and said no more.

Azriel tipped his head towards the way you’d originally come, letting you take the lead. You shot him a look of gratitude to which he returned the subtlest of smiles. A kind of smile that said, we can talk later, if you’d like.

You didn’t speak a word to one another until you were outside. Fae mingled about, their conversations doing nothing to drown out your thoughts as you walked over to the small garden. The greenery was half-sunken in the ground beneath the two main stairs that wound together in the shape of a heart. If it were anatomically correct you’d be sitting in the tricuspid valve.

Azriel sat down on the bench beside you, despite the discomfort it must have caused his wings. His shadows darted out, pooling out of his skin and beginning to cover your hands and arms in a strange hug. Azriel’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, some lingering shame of yours leaking through the bond without you even realizing it.

“We should let Cassian know where we are.” You said quietly, hands folded in your lap. Your shoulders bent inward like the curling of paper when it begins to catch fire.

“He’s a grown Illyrian. He’ll find us eventually.”

And even if he didn’t, I would be happy to sit here forever.

Azriel had been furious inside the athenaeum, the already red room turning redder as he saw the light flicker out of your eyes at Marsha’s comment. Perhaps it was another sign of the mating bond that he’d so wanted to slap that prideful smile off her face. It would be beneath him, but satisfying nevertheless.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently.

You huffed, discreetly blotting out the moisture that had collected in the corners of your eyes, “I am alright. I’m sorry about what happened inside. It wasn’t anything important.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

Gods, he was being kind. Kinder than he needed to be. What were you doing charading two legendary Illyrian warriors through the streets of Day? Stirring up old emotions in public spaces and making a scene in front of him.

“No, I do. It wasn’t right of me to react that way. I should’ve hidden it better.”

“You barely reacted at all.”

Something about his insistence made you feel worse, not better. The emotions you’d been trying to tamp down since the party, and probably far longer than that, were bubbling to the surface.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, Y/n. Tell me the truth.”

The truth…

The truth was that you were a mess. You continuously shrank away from Helion’s attempts to foster a relationship with you, the discomfort you felt leaving your apartment for anything other than work was becoming an unignorable problem, and the mere thought of anyone touching you made your stomach clench. Even the Shadowsinger, whose touch you craved right now, felt like a beast behind a door that should never be opened. It might destroy you if you did.

Koschei.

What’s buried beneath the lake?

“There you both are!” Cassian called out, his neck craning around a stack of books that were piled from his waist to his forehead. His cheeks were touched with color, eyes bright with mischief like a boy seeing a naked lady for the first time. No doubt a consequence of the visions Nesta had been shooting down the bond as he’d scanned the shelves and flipped through the pages.

Azriel hated the way you sprang up from the seat and smoothed your dress, like you wanted to be anywhere else but with him. He’d pushed too far. Come on too strong. Damn it.

On the return trip to the Alcove, you and Cassian spoke casually about the books he’d selected. Or rather, Cassian rambled and you listened, occasionally chiming in if you were familiar with one of Nesta’s favorite authors and offering suggestions.

Azriel walked a few paces behind, watching you as you instinctively tightened your back whenever Cassain or anyone else drifted too close, twisting and turning in a manner that seemed effortless, but which Azriel could see was constantly on your mind. There wasn’t a single step you took that was mindless and calm.

Azriel clenched his fists so tightly he felt his nails digging crescent-shaped marks in his palms. He wanted to hold you close, beg you to tell him what was wrong, what he could do to help. But if there was anyone who could understand the fear of being touched, of touching others, it was him.

So when they reached The Alcove, all he did was wave to you from the bottom of the steps as you turned and said goodbye. He committed the scene to memory - your smile, the flush of your cheeks, the swish of your skirt as the door closed shut with a gentle thud.

Cassian whistled low, kicking his brother in the shin with a wobble of books, “You’re whipped, Az. Absolutely whipped.”

And he was right. He was absolutely right.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

*sighs* I just want Azriel to be happy...

As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

On a completely unrelated note: I watched Howl's Moving Castle last night and I think it altered my brain chemistry.

"There you are, sweetheart, sorry I’m late. I was looking everywhere for you”

AHHHHHH just AKJDBFHAB ESKLCFNHSDN

Love,

Florence B.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x mate reader #azriel acotar #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar

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haeryna · 4 months

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i would give up heaven if i had to ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ✶.ೃ࿔*.

← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →

summary: sugar melts saccharide sweet on his tongue, and yet the taste in his mouth is so very bitter. the look in suguru's eyes tells him more than any words could. they'd messed up; badly.

tw: angst but melancholic? mentions of illness, mentions of abandonment, reader has a healthy relationship with their parents, author uses switches between "gojo/geto" and "satoru/suguru" to denote emotions. food as a metaphor for love. not proofread. author is extremely tired

notes: title taken from enhyphen's "sweet venom (english version)." a shorter chapter to kind of fill in the gaps. banner from @/cafekitsune

It's been a week since Gojo and Geto showed up at your doorstep and ever since then, you've been filled with a pervasive sense of anxiety. After the whole six hours they spent pleading outside your door (you shudder just thinking about it), they had been uncharacteristically silent. It had gotten to the point where you felt almost a bit insane, peeking your head out the door to check outside if anyone was waiting for you, before you left for work.

It didn't matter if it had been five years, or five days. You knew them better than you'd even known yourself. The freckle on Suguru's collarbone. The barely noticeable scar on Satoru's arm. How Suguru preferred tea, black, and always expensive, while Satoru's guilty pleasure was instant coffee with ungodly amounts of syrups and sugars added to it. You knew them, and therefore you knew that the silence was suspicious. Even as children, whenever you'd get into fights, they would be even clingier than usual, as if they were desperate to reaffirm that you were still there.

So why was it so quiet?

The scream of the tea kettle startles you out of your thoughts and you flinch, hastily moving to remove it from the stove. Why should you care? The audacity they'd had, coming to your doorstep on a whim, before claiming they had no choice. Your thoughts are more bitter than the medicine you mix into your parents' tea. Satoru had been undoubtably hysterical once his parents had found out. You couldn't blame him for that. But Suguru had been the one to call all the shots, buying two plane tickets instead of three.

What if they couldn't afford a third one?

You shake your head, as if you could physically shake the thought. It doesn't matter now, you think viciously, as you stack the cups on a tray. Five years was a long time to go without seeing someone for. Fame and wealth changed people, and you were no stranger to the heavy influence they both exerted upon the music industry. Besides, it's not like your address had changed since they'd left. They could've found you whenever they wanted to.

"You never left?"

The cups rattle dangerously as you carry them to your parents' room. Your mother is sitting up in bed, staring longingly out the window. Your father must be outside, soaking up the last few rays of sunshine before the sun started to set. Gently, you set the tray down on the nightstand. "I have your medicine, Mom."

Your mother smiles, but there's a fragile kind of sadness to it. "When were you going to tell us?"

Heavy resignation falls over you as you sigh, shoulders slumping. "I didn't want to worry you and Dad while you were away at the hospital. It wasn't that big of a deal-"

Your mother cuts you off, eyes firm but gentle. "Dear, please. I saw how happy you were when all three of you were together, and how devastated you were when they left. I just..." She hesitates before continuing. "I don't want you to live your life with regrets. Especially because of your father and I. You deserve to be happy too."

"I am happy," you protest fiercely, but she shakes her head. "You had such lofty dreams. And now, your father and I are the ones holding you back. Life is too short to have regrets like yours at such a young age."

"It just hurt so badly," you whisper, as you take a seat at the end of the bed. Your mother reaches over to intertwine her fingers with yours.

"I know, dear. But which is greater; the love for the things they did do, or the pain for all the things they didn't?"

Your mother's words ring through your ears as you blearily stare into your coffee cup. While the insurance helped, there were still bills to pay, and food to put on the table. You'd stayed up all night finishing work for your remote office job, before taking the short bus ride to the cafe you worked at during the day. The world spins briefly. You would kill for a good night's sleep.

The door chimes and grimacing, you down the rest of your coffee, before pasting a cheery smile onto your face.

"Welcome, how may I help..."

Sator- Gojo stares at you from the other end of the counter. Even with the cheap medical mask he's wearing, the blue eyes and white hair are enough to have your coworkers whispering behind you.

"...you," you finish lamely, immediately looking down at cash register. Why was he here? Especially in the town over? More importantly, why hadn't he gone back to Asia yet? Cursing, you study the bills lined up neatly in the till. Gojo says your name, softly, and the whispers behind you intensify.

"That's me!" you chirp, forcing yourself to point at your nametag. The tips were nice here, and you couldn't afford to find a new job. The pitying stares from everyone back in your hometown was already suffocating enough; gaining the attention from Gojo's rabid fangirls would probably push you over the edge. "Is there anything in particular that you like? Our customers really love the caramel crunch latte."

There's a tone to his voice that you can't place when he finally speaks. "Yeah, I'll take one of those. Extra sweet. Do you happen to have any tea here?"

The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. "Unfortunately, we only have one drink that features black tea."

Fuck.

You can feel Gojo's gaze, searing into your face as you stubbornly continue to stare at the counter. "Sure, I'll take one of those."

Numbly, you recite the total to him. As he hands you his credit card, you can see your hand shake as you reach out to grab it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should've forgotten everything about them when they left.

But you couldn't. You never could.

You hand his card back, but a firm hand on your wrist forces the air out of your lungs. Eyes wide, you peer up at Gojo in shock. His eyes are filled with an intensity that you've never seen before. "How much do I have to tip you in order for you to be the one to make our drinks?"

His grip is firm but not bruising, even as you try to tug your hand back. "I can assure you, our baristas-"

"I don't care," he interrupts. "I want you to do it. You're the only one who can do it." The final part of his statement is so soft that you barely catch it. "It's only ever been you."

You have the horrible feeling that the two of you are no longer talking about extra sweet lattes and London Fogs. The whispers are getting so loud now that you yank your hand back and give him a strained smile. "I suppose I can." At this point, you'll do anything to stop talking with him.

As you busy yourself around the cafe, you hate how easy it is to make the two drinks. Extra caramel; Satoru always loved when his coffee was practically infused with it. You grab the filtered water, running it through a filter several more times. Suguru always insisted tea tasted better the more filtered the water was. You heat the water as you crush up small caramel candies. Satoru enjoyed when his drinks had a little something he could chew on. The tea was steeped for five minutes, exactly. You added lavender and vanilla syrup. When Suguru had made you try a London Fog for the first time in ninth grade, you'd teased him for the "oddly pretentious taste." A splash of milk. An extra large heaping of whipped cream.

Wiping your hands on your apron, you can feel the pain in your heart form the salt of your tears. "Lizzie," you call out. "Can you deliver this to the customer? I'm going on my ten minute." Not waiting for a response, you dash into the bathroom, barely slamming the door behind you as you let the first of your tears fall.

"Toru! Toru!"

"What?" he snaps. Undeterred, you rush up to him, bright pink lunchbox clutched in one hand. "Sugu said you forgot your lunch at home, but it's okay! We pooled our allowance together, so Sugu's in line for the cafeteria right now"

A rush of warmth fills his chest. "You shouldn't have," he protests, but you wave it away. "Mama always says that food is meant to be shared, especially with people you love! And it wouldn't feel right eating without you."

The school onigiri had never tasted good, but that day, Satoru had savored every bite.

Satoru stares at the teenager who'd called his name, wringing her apron nervously, before taking the offered cups. "Thank you." Where had you gone?

"Can I get your autograph?" she blurts out, and Satoru winces. His cover had been completely blown. Suguru's not going to be pleased, he thinks wryly. Yet as he dutifully signs his name on the provided paper, his mind wanders to you. Your hands had been shaking. Were you cold? Tired? Or was it his fault? Briefly, he considers sticking around, before quickly dismissing that idea. You clearly wanted to avoid being associated with him, and although the thought makes his stomach twist, he understands it as much as he hates it.

The walk back to the hotel is short. Satoru's mind is a mess. The bags under your eyes rivalled Shoko's. Were you taking care of yourself? You seemed thinner, too. The sick feeling inside him only grows, festering into something ugly. He dutifully ignores it (like he has been the past five years) and takes a sip of the latte you made, freezing.

Every time all four of you had gone over to your house after school, you'd always insisted on making snacks for the three of them. The coffee tastes like sunny afternoons, and bright laughter, of your voice teasing Satoru for the sheer amount of sugar you'd have to put in his drinks. Caramel seeps into his system, and unbidden, he thinks of your eyes, watching him with a hint of apprehension and exhaustion.

When had it gone so wrong?

Suguru is lounging on the couch as he enters. "What took you so long?" Suguru grumbles, reaching for the other cup. It takes Satoru a moment to respond.

"She was working at the cafe."

"Is that so?" Suguru murmurs, taking a sip of his own drink. Immediately, he tenses, eyes stunned. "Did she-"

"Yeah."

"It tastes kind of like-"

"I know."

The two lapse into silence. You'd had so much love to give that it had practically overflowed. Food was just one aspect of it. Some days, you'd even give up parts of your lunch, insisting that Satoru or Suguru take a bite. He thinks of the way you'd hold him, the way you'd leave him encouraging notes in his locker, how you'd save up allowance to buy small things that reminded you of them. How you'd keep extra hair ties on your wrist for Suguru, and how you'd always keep a plastic water bottle in your bag for Shoko. How many times had they taken it for granted, taken you for granted?

"She looked so exhausted, Sugu. She's got these real dark bags under her eyes, like she hadn't slept in a while. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes were so dull, and so lifeless. I..." Satoru closes his eyes. "I think I would give up anything for her. Music, fame, money. I forgot what it was like, being with her. I felt alive, even though she could barely even look at me."

"I think the worst part is that she really thought we wanted to leave her behind," Suguru says, miserably. "It's all my fault, I was in such a hurry to get us out of there that I didn't say goodbye at all."

"You're not the only one to blame." Satoru's voice is sharp. "We both knew where she lived. We could've called her house phone, saved her number to our new phones from her parents."

"Will she ever forgive us?"

The way they'd heard you wailing from behind the door had torn their heart in two. They never wanted to hear you make those noises again, especially with the agonizing knowledge that it had been their fault.

"I don't know," Satoru says, truthfully. "But I can't even think about returning to music until she knows just how much we really love her."

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x suguru x reader #gojo x geto x reader

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luvyeni · 2 months

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❛LITTLE PINK BOOK❜ ( p. jongsong )

p. schoolmate!jay x fem!reader w. 2.7k

warnings? — 𖦹 ( jay finding your book, your little secret pink book ) !

authors note. first full fic in a minute finally back after week, also thank you for 14k , i appreciate it🫶🏾 🤙🏾🤍

You were the spitting image of girl next door — your dad a business man; your mother a stay at home wife, your family went to church every single sunday, greeted all the older church ladies, smiling when the pinched your cheeks, telling you you’d make a honest wife.

You upheld the same image; getting good grades, having no friends — you kept to yourself , never getting in trouble; boring goody-two shoes if you’d asked other students in your class. So when you dropped your little pink book in front of park jongsong— not noticing as you kept walking, he wasn’t even gonna bother picking it up, but he decided to do something good and return it. “hey!” you didn’t hear him, continuing on down the hall.

he hadn’t seen you for the rest of the day, so he ended up taking the book home with him, tossing it on the table, it opened wide. He didn’t expect to find anything, but he was still curious— what did a girl like you; a little church mouse write about?

Sitting on the edge of the desk, opening the book; reading off a random page — he was so shocked by the contents that he had to read the name over, making sure it was actually yours, he flipped through the pages in awe. Pages upon pages of straight porn is what jay would call it — your every dirty fantasy written down, things you did to yourself, things you want to do to other people, it was a lot — even a confession of the lost of the virginity; god he wished it was him who was the to defile you first.

“fuck.” He curse, getting hard at the words, it was so dirty — then he turned the page, and the first thing he saw just made him harder, his name, he adjusted himself , but it didn’t help as he read the page — ‘I do anything he asked me to’. You were saying that about him , you wrote about what you wanted him to do.

His hands traveled down to his pants, just has his door opened — he quickly tossed the book leaning over to cover up his hard on, his mother walking in; just in time. “you’re home?” he nodded , trying to catch his breath. “yes.”

“why do you look so nice?” he questioned. “get dressed for dinner, we’re meeting your dads new business partner for dinner at their home.” He sighed, he hated these things. “really? do I have to come?” his mom nodded. “yes you do, the y/ln’s are good people, we need to get in their good graces.” He froze at the last name. “y/ln?”

“yeah.” His mom hummed. “they have a daughter, sweet girl she does to your school, do you know her?” he shrugged, trying to keep his cool; yeah he knew you — well he thought he did. “big school probably passed her a couple times.” He said. “well she’s gonna be there tonight so dress nice.” He nodded, she walked out , closing the door leaving him alone.

He picked the book up, sitting it down on the table — finding a outfit for the night. “jay be quick we leave 5!” his mom yelled from the steps. “okay!” he stuffed the book in his pocket with a smirk on his face. “you look nice baby.” He thanked his mom. “be on your best behavior son, your father needs this deal.” He couldn’t promise anything, he definitely had other things in mind. “I promise.”

You sat on your bed, going through your homework; your door opening making you look up. “you wearing that?” your mother said, making you look down at your outfit. “well it’s just dinner with daddy’s co worker.” you said, your mother nodding opting to not fight with you. “I guess so, did you finish your homework? They should be here soon?”

“yes, im just finishing up now.” You said. “good, I’ll call you when you they get here.” She left you, closing the door. You began to put your stuff in your bag — noticing something; your little pink book, it was missing. “oh no.” you said, searching through your bag, dumping everything out — gone, it was gone. “shit.” You couldn’t even remember where you last saw it, you always kept it tight with you.

You began pacing, if anyone found out what you wrote in that book you’d be in trouble — who could even have it? Did anyone have is? If so who? All these thoughts raced through your mind, just as your mother called out for you. “dinner!” you sighed, smoothing out your skirt, you couldn’t let your parents see you shaken up, blowing out a breathe before leaving out your room.

You made your way down the steps — your mother and waiting at the bottom. “there she is, come here baby.” Your mom pulled you to her side, kissing your forehead. “mom.” You whined, the couple in front of you laughing. “these are the parks.” You held your hand out shaking both of them. “nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you as well young lady.” The older man said. “such a pretty daughter, much prettier than you described her.” You smiled, nodding your head. “thank you ma’am.” She smiled. “our son jay is in the car, getting the gift he’ll be in soon.”

Jay? As in park jongsong? You knew him all too well, he was the subject of just about everything recently you wrote about in your journal — if he was the one to find it, you’d die.

“ah! There he is.” Mr.park called for the boy as he walked in the room, holding the bottle of wine. “sorry it took so long.” He bowed to your parents, his eyes honing in on you. “I do know you.” Your breath caught in your throat, how did he know you? He hardly paid attention to anybody else but his friends. “h-how?”

“you’re in my history class, you sit in the back quite as little mouse.” He smiled, you didn’t even notice the look in his eyes — full of hunger. “head always in a book.” Your mom slapped your arm. “I told you about that.” You hissed. “im sorry.”

“lets take a seat.” Your father guided everyone to the eating area; jay took a seat across from you— you can feel his eyes on you. You looked up, eyes locking on you— did he know? You squinted your eyes in confusion and he smiled, before turning to your father. “may i use the restroom?”

“sure son, yn could you show him?” you looked up from the empty plate. “m-me?” you said. “yes you.” You dad laughed along with the parks. “oh ye-yeah sure.” You stood up, jay mimicking you. “fo-follow me.” You walked up the steps, he followed behind you, book in his pocket — like a predator stalking his prey.

You walked to the end of the hall where the bathroom was, pushing the door open. “here you go.” You went to walk away, until he spoke up. “you really don’t know who I am?” you stopped , heart racing. “we-well we do go to the same school.” You said. “that’s it?” he said, reaching in his pocket — revealing the pink book, your heart dropping. “really?”

“h-how do you have that?” you stuttered. “oh this, you dropped it.” He said. “see I was gonna leave it, then i decided to give it back.” He said, stepping closer to you, making you take a step back. “but you didn’t answer, so I took it home — and then I got a little curious.” He said; so he did read it. “for such a cute and innocent face, you surely write about a lot of dirty thing in this notebook.”

He was now pressing you against the wall. “I also no, daddys little girl has been lying about being a virgin, seems like somebody already popped that little cherry of yours.” He smirked. “jay— princess and the things you said about me, damn.” He dry laughed. “for someone who’s never said a word to me, you surely want me to do a lot of things to you.” His hand came up to your face, caressing it. “what was it?” he teased. “let me do whatever I want to you.”

He was pressing against you, you could feel his hard on your stomach. “seems like our little church mouse is hiding many secrets.” You couldn’t get a word out, but the way his hands traveled down your body, his hand burning your exposed skin made your body tingle. “we-we have to go back down stairs.”

He smiled, stepping to the side, letting you walk past. “yeah we do, don’t want daddy to think im doing anything to his precious little girl right.?” You tried to gather yourself, panties sticking uncomfortable to your cunt as— he walked past you, whispering in your ear. “this isn’t over baby.”

You made it back to your seat before jay did, sitting down. “he’ll be down soon.” You sat down, your mom finally bringing the food from the kitchen — jay finally returning, sitting down in his seat, his eyes on you, you looked down at your plate, secretly fanning your warm face.

He didn’t make dinner easier either , using his foot to toy with you, starring at you so intensely that you would stumble over your words every time his parents would ask you a question.

“dinner was lovely, Mrs. yln.” Jay said. “thank you jay such a sweet boy.” If only she knew the thoughts he was having about her sweet daughter. “it was lovely dear, but I believe there is business to disgust.” Your dad said. “mr.park?” your dad stood. “my office?”

“Mrs. park while the men discuss business would you like some wine?” your mother asked. “sure why not, you kids can go play amongst yourselves right.” Jay laughed. “we aren’t 5.” His mom glared at him. “but im sure we can find something to do.” He turned to you, you could see his eyes full of lust. “right?”

They dismissed you both, sending you both upstairs, putting enough trust in both of you— they were wrong; the moment the door closed to your bedroom, he was grabbing your arm, pulling you close to him, pressing his forehead against yours. “j-jay.”

“so pretty.” He whispered, holding his hands in your hand. “what do you want?” your mind went blank. “an-anything.” You whimpered. “yeah, let me do whatever I want?” his other hand coming up to his collar, undoing the tie. “yes, please ” He could see the look in your blown out eyes— you wanted this just as bad as he did. “okay little mouse.”

Taking the tie — you looked so confused. “give me your hands.” you held your hand out. “I believe this was in that little fuck book of yours.” Your ears were hot from embarrassment. “what was it? Ah I believe it said you wanted me to tie your hands behind your back and have my way with you.” He smirked, turned you around, tying your hands. “what else did you write?”

“yo-you read it didn’t you?” you whimpered, just wanting him to touch you. “yeah, but I want to hear you say it.” He said. “so, tell me baby, what did you write.” He pressed his cock against your ass. You whimpered, he left little kisses down your neck. “i-i sa-said i wanted you to fuck my face.” He smirked. “yeah you did.”

“get on your knees.” He commanded, you compiled immediately. “oh baby , it's like you’re used to this.” He tease. “almost like you’ve done this before.” Truth be told, you haven’t — you weren’t a virgin anymore, losing your virginity to you secret boyfriend months prior, but that’s it.

“i-i haven’t.” hearing that made his cock twitch. “so you were writing all those dirty things without having done any of them.” He laughed furthering your embarrassment. “don’t worry, baby I got you.” He undid his belt, letting his pants fall to his ankles, along with his underwear, his cock slapping against his stomach, it was much bigger than the ones you seen, wanting to touch but you couldn’t due to the restrictions. “give it a kiss pretty girl.”

He hissed as he felt the shortness of your lips. “fuck, now open up.” You slowly opened your mouth, letting him slide his cock into your wet cavern. “fuck, there we go.” He sighed, slowly pushing himself inside. “just be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth.”

He started off slow, just to ease you into it — speeding up his movements gradually, his tip kissing the back of your throat. “fuck your little throat is sucking me like crazy.” You began to gag around him, unable to grab his thighs, he grabbed your head to steady you. “go-gonna fuck your face.”

Using your throat, throwing his head back. “fuck , gonna cum.” groaned, pushing himself fully down your throat, groaning in pleasure as he came, filling your throat with his warm seed. “oh fuck.” He let your hair go , releasing your head — you coughed, lips swollen and wet. “so nasty.” He tapped his cock on your lips. “looked so fuck out just from sucking cock.”

Thing’s escalated from there, he pulled you up. “what else was is?” you felt him reach under your skirt. “what else did you want me to baby?” your voice was sore, legs wobbly as he pushed you on to the bed, arms still behind your back. “i-i wanted you to fuck me.”

“good girl.” he maneuvered your body into his desired position, your ass up in the air — pulling your panties down, the air hitting your cunt, you whined. “look how wet you are.” He tease your cunt with his fingers. “such a slutty pussy baby, little church mouse wants me to use her.” He slapped your ass, you yelped. “be quite unless you want mommy and daddy to hear how much of a slut you are.”

You felt him shuffling behind you, wiggling your hips. “stay still.” You felt another slap on your ass, you bit down on your plushie, moaning as you felt the warmth of his cock. “daddy would be so disappointed.” He slapped his cock on your cunt, teasing the tip of his cock into your hole. “seeing his daughter tied up — fuck!” he groaned as he fully seethed himself inside you. “j-jay.”

He was much thicker than the guy before, filling you up; moving his hips. “fuck this cunt is so fucking tight.” He squeezed your ass. “fuck!” you squealed, “jay please.” He began to move faster, grabbing your arms as he fucked into you, your shoulders were going to hurt in the morning, but you couldn’t care less with the way he was fucking you. “I should’ve known this innocent church girl was disguise.” He groaned. “that you really were a slut.”

He lifted you up by your wrist, roughly fucking into faster. “something else I read in that book.” He moaned. “you want me to make you squirt.” He cursed, his hand coming around to your clit, rubbing it. “if that’s what you want, then I want you to squirt for me.” He slapped at your cunt. “cum for me.” He whispered into your ear, your eyes rolled to the back of the head, as you came, he released your arms, letting you face plant into your pillows as he continued to plow into you.

“fuck, fuck im gonna cum, where do you want it?” he groaned. “i-inside.” Your voice muffled in the pillow. “please.” He grunted, thrusting a few more times, feeling the warmth of his cum filling you up. “fuck.” He stopped moving, his cock twitching.

He finally undid his tie from your hands, gently laying your lower body down. “good girl.” He said softly. “let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

“jay!” you heard his mom yelling down the steps. “time to go.” He pulled the covers over your body , still holding the book in his hands. “gonna keep this pretty girl.” He smirked. “got a lot of reading to do.” He said , walking out, forgetting his tie — knowing you’d have to walk up and give it back to him, he could see your shy red face as you approach him, nervously giving him the tie back, almost made him horny again. he was determined to do everything you wanted him to do in the book.

He was gonna turn you into his perfect little slut.

©️LUVYENI

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