#its fine to not like a certain look and to own that but to be so insistent that your opinion of what looks good or pretty on someone

[crazyinluvfix]

DON’T NEED SAVING - a klaus mikaelson oneshot

summary: when klaus brings his girlfriend to meet his family for the first time they don’t exactly welcome her with open arms. namely, rebekah. but as soon as she takes a dagger to her pride she gets ANGRY, and it makes klaus love her even more.

WARNINGS: swearing, depictions of anger / fighting, physical violence ( not domestic )

request: @ranisingsnew

3.7k words

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Klaus swore he would never let his power be dampened by something as frivolous as love - that he’d never be with a woman for more than a fling. He was too good for it. Too strong. Especially to fall for a human.

That was until he met Y/n.

One of his worldly escapades had led him to a place with architecture so beautiful, life so pure, and a certain spark so bold it could capture even him in its wonder.

All of this held his attention so tightly that he didn't even notice what was right in front of him until he hit it. Literally.

His typically sly, dark blue eyes seemed to flash a shade lighter for just a second when he looked up, growing wide at the sight before him. Something even more exquisite and awestriking than the scenery - something he never thought possible. Her.

She looked at him expectantly with an arched eyebrow as his brain practically short-circuited at the smell of the sweet blood beneath her veins.

“I-” he paused. “Sorry, love. Forgive me, I was in my own world,” his stare piercing, gaining back his usual strength after that brief moment of weakness, his signature smirk at home on his lips.

But his face practically dropped in surprise as her’s stayed just as it was; unmoving, unyielding, unimpressed, with arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him up and down.

Klaus felt unusually insufficient under her cold gaze, one that could rival his. He took a step forward, shaking out his shoulders to regain the intimidating presence he was so known for, folding his arms back at her.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?”

The look she gave was incredulous. “That depends, why are you asking?”

This one was feisty, he liked that, he liked a challenge.

His tongue swiped over his teeth with a slight chuckle before speaking again, the lilt in his voice that he used to woo any woman when he wanted to watch them crumble. “I’m new in town, I was hoping you could show me around,” he moved closer, “I’d love to get to know… the place.” A ring-clad hand reached forward to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But she got there before he could.

Her silence was deafening as she mulled the offer over. It wasn’t often that a woman could resist his charms for so long.

“If you’re so desperate to be in my company then fine. You can tag along but I’m not gonna be your little tour guide.”

The stark contrast between her sweet appearance and her fierce attitude was beyond alluring.

Klaus was willing to take anything he could get, feeling more like a lost puppy than he had in over 1000 years, and he was on her leash.

For days he managed to seek her out, every chance he got.

It was a means to an end, the usual end. At least, that’s what he told himself

But the less she fell victim to his charms, the more he was weirdly captured by hers.

Compulsion didn’t seem to work either - did she really make him so weak that he couldn’t perform such a basic function?

Instead, when she got defensive to his advances, it was like she put a spell on him of her own. She wasn’t a witch, but her mind games felt more powerful than any that he had met.

“What do you say we go and get a little drink, huh?” he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, waiting for her pupils to dilate so he could have her right where he wanted her.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus was abruptly taken aback, blinking rapidly as he let out a confused, breathy chuckle. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything, love,” his eyes never left hers.

“No, that thing with your eyes,” she nodded, dead set on what she saw.

His only instinct was to try again, “You didn’t see anything.”

“There!” she caught it once more, causing him to take a step back; it was safe to say he was completely and utterly perplexed.

“You just did it again! What was that?”

Her eyes seemed to control him instead and he almost stuttered - he never stuttered.

This woman had him - the most powerful man on the planet - wrapped around her tiny little mortal finger.

~

She and Klaus had been dating for a few months now. After weeks of his constant flowers, letters, paintings, and smooth talk she finally gave in. He couldn’t help but think she only accepted his efforts because she had wanted a break from trying to resist them, and this is what she thought at first too; that she’d let him win for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, and then break it off.

But as the months passed, she too fell head over heels for him. Over this short time he had already revealed everything to her about his supernatural world, he trusted her with his life and knew that she wouldn’t say a word. Klaus hadn’t thought his attraction to her could get any stronger, but he was now the most whipped he had ever been. She was more than his usual affair or snack. She was his soulmate, he was sure of it.

But Klaus was a family man through and through, and he felt as if it was finally time for them to meet the love of his immortal life.

~

“I will never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Klaus turned to look at his beautiful girlfriend who sat calmly in the passenger seat of his car - he seemed more nervous than she did.

I simply rolled my eyes and laughed, he was so protective it almost hurt. “I know, Nik. You’ve told me about a thousand times already.”

He just smiled. “I have. But I just wanted to warn you that they’re not always the most friendly bunch - obviously that skipped me.” He tried to end on a quip to ease my mind, something he wouldn’t have thought to do for anyone else.

His family had a very complicated history, and a lot of it revolved around him, so their feelings toward him fluctuated on the daily. It was a fact that he was the strongest; and even though he wasn’t the oldest he was by far the boss of the Mikaelson group. So if any one of them put even one bad word on my name he was more than ready to tear them apart.

I had heard all about the family drama - Klaus was undoubtedly one to gossip - but I knew I could handle anything they threw at me on my own, even if it was from an original vampire.

~

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Klaus turned the key to the ornate wooden doors, swinging them open with his usual dramatics as he took my hand and led me inside.

My jaw immediately dropped. ‘Humble,’ definitely didn’t do it justice.

I had expected it to be nice, but this house was beyond lavish, stunning, massive - not the dark cave many would expect from a bunch of ancient vampires.

Klaus had obviously noticed the look of awe sweep my face because he laughed, that low chuckle he always did that set my heart on fire.

Subtleties in his eyes told me that he was glad I liked it so much. I had heard from many that they found my boyfriend incredibly hard to read, which was actually quite a shock to me because I had pried open the windows to his soul the very moment I met him.

He never freed my hand from his he led us into the main room. “Where are they?” he scanned the area and listened for footsteps upstairs since they did know we were coming.

“Kol! Elijah! Rebekah! Come down!” he shouted throughout the grand house and made me giggle. He really was the leader of the family.

A variety of shouts called back before three figures sped down to the bottom floor.

Two men and one woman. One of the men wore more casual clothes, a jacket over a button-up shirt and some jeans - much like how Klaus typically dressed - while the other wore a full suit at 4 pm on a Tuesday. They both practically scowled at the sight of me, but the blonde girl was the worst. I couldn’t tell if that was how her face fell or if she was purposefully staring daggers through me as if to telepathically wound me with her attitude - she looked like a blast…

Klaus then stepped forward, bringing me with him, a happy grin on his face, “Brothers, Rebekah, this is my wonderful Y/n.” His hand gestured towards me with a softness none of them had seen before, not that they cared.

I noticed how they all seemed to size me up. They were silent, but their mannerisms spoke louder than their words ever could’ve. The vibe that was given off immediately was that I was being judged.

Nevertheless, I chose to be polite, to be the bigger person - you’d think for people who had been alive so long they would’ve had the time to learn manners. “Nice to meet you all,” I offered a warm smile that none of them returned. Tough crowd.

Soon, the awkward introductions were over and we all went to sit in the living room. As we walked over Klaus leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “They’re always a bit cranky around this time,” smirking as he knew that they were vampires and would most definitely hear him. I could not help but let out a small laugh.

Klaus, of course, made sure I sat as close to him as physically possible when we got to the couch, his arm around my shoulder as everyone else sat on the other chairs around the room.

The conversation started light; ‘What do you do for work,’ ‘Where are you from,’ etc.

Meanwhile, the blonde who I now know to be Rebekah had not spoken a word, that was until she shouted out in the middle of my answer to one of Elijah’s questions.

“So, what do you want with him?” she referred to her brother and I could practically feel him roll his eyes behind me.

“Is it his money? Or is it that you want to become like us?” she assumed, the thought making her laugh out loud.

I felt Klaus’ hand tighten around mine and the way his chest rose when he took a deep breath in, “Rebekah.” His tone was strict, warning.

“Shh,” I ran my fingertips over his knuckles, quickly looking back to tell him it was okay before turning back to Rebekah.

“Neither, believe it or not,” my smile was sweet, but also slightly condescending. “I’m with him because we love each other, is that so hard to believe?” I made sure to keep my words friendly, even though I could not help the undertones of my annoyance at her insolence slip through.

“Hm,” she hummed shortly, practically looking down her nose at me from across the room. “It is, actually. Nik has never been one for love, right brothers?” she gestured to the two men for them to back her up, but it seemed like they knew to say nothing.

The scoff that left my lips was very much involuntary, but it seemed to add to her frustration which I admittedly took some pride in. “Hm,” I mimicked her sound, “that’s funny because he seems to love me an awful lot, at first I thought too much,” I giggled and the man in question did too, an effort to keep the tension light while subtly trying to keep her in her place. Which didn’t work.

“Interesting,” she didn’t sound like she cared in the slightest, giving up on making conversation with me and directing her next question to her brother. “It just shocks me, Nik, that you would go for her when you could have any woman in the world. I never thought you’d choose such an… average human.”

Klaus was practically seething, the more she spoke the tenser he got and the closer he approached to his tipping point.

“I mean,” she continued, clearly incredibly amused at both of our reactions, “why don’t you just dump her now and we could all just have a little snack? That’s what your plan is anyway, right? Dinner’s on you tonight.”

My hand stayed firmly on his leg to stop him from getting up, telling him softly that it was okay and that I had got this - I didn’t need saving, not from her.

“Where did you even find this chick?” Rebekah let out a shrill laugh but was quickly taken aback when she saw someone stand up in anger.

And it wasn’t Klaus.

It was an instinct to shoot up, and when Nik brought his hand to mine to get me to sit down I removed it and laughed back at her myself. “You know, you have some serious audacity, Rebekah,” I spat out her name as everyone watched on in suspense, waiting for the incoming catfight.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, a choked sound coming leaving her throat before she returned, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” I chuckled darkly, “I’m serious alright. You have no right to say anything about my relationship just because you obviously can’t get someone of your own. He’s your brother, you’re not his little lap dog. So hop off my dick little vamp girl and go find someone else’s to ride.”

The longer I sat there and listened to her kick-off, the more strength bubbled up inside of me ready to burst. Now that it was out I felt even better, especially when I saw her expression; eyes wide, mouth open, too stunned to get out more than a few intelligible stutters. Shocked that some ‘average human girl’ could fire back so strongly.

Meanwhile, as I spoke Klaus was watching over, but the smirk on his face was nothing but a proud one. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at how amazing this was - she usually carried such a sweet disposition, but the fieriness he was seeing now was definitely something he could get used to. He had always been a sucker for confrontation and riling his family up, and the fact that she could add to that made him love her even more.

“You little-” Rebekah spat furiously, slowly going to stand up herself.

I cut her off. “What? What else could you possibly have to say?” I looked at her expectantly, putting my hands on my hips, but she said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Now I see why Nik put you in a box for a hundred years. It’s been what? Fifteen minutes and you’ve already questioned my love, my loyalty, and shouted out death threats. You may be immortal, Rebekah, but you need to learn that that doesn’t make you a God.”

Every word I came back at her with only strengthened the grin on Klaus’ face - he loved his siblings in his own way, but nothing made him happier than seeing his girl stand up for herself and put them in their place. A few times he had to stop himself from getting up and intervening, but he couldn’t. He would’ve stepped in if he could tell this was taking a toll, but deep down he had always known that I was just like him, we were both just having too much fun.

Rebekah looked utterly defeated, clearly not used to having someone push back at her snarky comments so this was seemingly long overdue. So much so that I even earned a smirk and a look of newfound respect from the brother in formal wear, Elijah.

But that’s when blondie had finally had enough.

Within less than a split second, she sped over and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me to the wall at the back of the room and squeezing so my air supply was restricted, my feet dangling just above the floor.

“You dare speak to me like that, you filthy little…” she hissed, bringing her face close to mine and watching maliciously as my eyes grew wider.

But if I thought she moved fast, Klaus travelled at twice her speed in the blink of an eye, rushing to my rescue. His hands made quick work of prying her off of me and shoving her to the wall instead, reaching down to the back of his shoe where his trousers were baggy enough to conceal - and he pulled out a shiny, silver dagger.

I could do nothing but stand there stock still while the scene played out in front of me, the other brothers shooting up too but doing the same as me.

“Don’t you ever speak to her like that again,” his voice was low, yet scarily loud, but that’s not what seemed to panic Rebekah. No, she was focused on the dagger he held against her sternum, the point brushing against her top.

‘You take a dagger to her pride, I take a dagger to your heart.’ Klaus’ mind whirred with anger.

Just as she opened her mouth to plea for her brother's forgiveness or offer some half-assed apology which she would prove false the moment he let her go, he plunged the dagger into her chest. She let out a high-pitched wince as his eyes still burned into hers with pure loathing.

“Now, say you’re sorry,” he snarled darkly - so this was the Klaus I had heard about. Cruel, righteous, formidable. And the worst part; I wasn’t even scared. I may have gasped at the suddenness of his actions, but I could not help the feeling that arose within me when I saw him choose me over his own flesh and blood without so much as a second thought.

She choked on her own words, “I- I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left his.

His hand moved to twist the knife, releasing another squeak from the victim of his wrath. He spoke firmly and finally, as if this was her last warning, “To her.”

That’s when she finally turned her head to face me, “I’m sorry… Y/n.” It looked like it killed her to force out those words, but it was better than being killed again with the dagger that was hairs away from causing her to be put in a coffin for another century.

As soon as Klaus felt she had been sincere enough he ripped the blade out, his face still serious as he wiped the blood off on the fabric of his jacket. “Go,” he said plainly, not even wasting his energy on looking up from his hands. All three of them listened - I assumed that upon his revelation of the dagger (which none of them knew he had so close), they now were thinking only of themselves, fleeing the scene before they met their fates again.

They all vanished in one quick woosh leaving only me and Klaus who had shifted back into my sickeningly sweet Nik once more upon their departure.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had been clutching my chest this whole time, only taking it off when he moved his gaze to me and that wicked look in his eyes softened instantaneously into one that made me feel right at home, hurrying to me to make sure I was okay.

Without having time to even register everything that just happened I was encased in the arms of my saviour, him resting his head on top of mine while a hand moved up to gently stroke my hair. To anyone else, thinking of him acting in such a caring manner after being so ruthless would’ve been unimaginable. But to me? It was all I’d ever known.

“Shh. You’re okay, love,” he cooed before pulling back slightly and cradling my head in both his hands, bringing his soft lips to plant a tender kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at him like he was the only thing in the world; the way he had looked at me every time since the day we met.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to that part of me, it was something I had hoped you’d never see.” Apologies didn’t come naturally to Klaus… that was, to everyone but me.

Nothing was said, I let my actions speak for themselves as a genuine smile formed on my face and I hopped up onto my tiptoes to kiss him fervently. He seemed rather shocked at the sudden change in tone, but it’s not like he was complaining. Instead, he happily reciprocated my movements, a mischievous, goofy grin left on him in the wake of my lips as I pulled back.

“Don’t apologise,” I shook my head at him in reassurance, “I thought it was sexy,” biting my lip in a teasing manner as I put his racing mind at rest - he truly was such a sweetie behind closed doors. It was honestly a shame the world would never see him the way I did - but then again, that would mean I would have to share him, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

His bright blue eyes lit up as I spoke, in a way as if to ask ‘Really?’

In response to his silent appeal for confirmation, I nodded.

“At least you’ve met them now so you finally know what I mean when I complain about my family,” he used a tone much lighter than before now that he wasn’t shouting or apologising.

A laugh escaped me, causing me to quickly cover my mouth, “I guess you weren’t joking, huh?”

Sighing in reply he shook his head in embarrassment, thinking he should’ve never taken me here in the first place. “Come, let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” His head cocked to the side as he held out an arm for me to cling to, signalling for us both to leave.

My hand graciously slipped forward to meet his request as we walked toward the door, looking up at him one last time. “You’re my hero, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Upon hearing the giggle I let out after my words his smile only widened. “Always and forever, my love.”

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requests in bio x

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#klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the originals #fluff #angst #tvd #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus isn’t as scary as he seems #grumpy x sunshine #(klaus miklaelson is the sunshine)

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Ifrit/Rain, mentions of Ifrit/Dewdrop/Rain

Tags: Public Masturbation, Semi-public blowjobs, possessive behavior, Cuckolding, kink denial on Dew's part but it's fine he's fine it's fine they're all fine.

Summary:

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

Ifrit doesn't remember how the night began and he's certain he won't remember how it ends but that doesn't matter right now. Right now he's got a nice buzz going, a nice grassy spot under a tree to stare at the sky and his hand wrapped around his cock because hey. Why not.

If he concentrates, he can hear the others by the bonfire, still whooping and hollering as they dance and fight and fuck. He could join them but that would mean moving more than just his hand across his dick and he's not really feeling it right now. More interested in feeling himself. Maybe one of the others will stumble across, offer their own hand or mouth or even more but for now, Ifrit's intent on a little self-love.

There's no point in saying he's not vain because he absolutely is. This physical form had been good-looking to start with and when he found out he could modify it? Just by moving around or getting inked up? Siblings were practically lining up at the gate for his, heh, personal attention in the gym as a trainer. He was completely focused and professional during classes. But once that session was up? They knew where to find him.

Wasn't just the human Clergy either. Mist liked it when he wrestled with her, winner take all. Alpha needed the occasional beatdown too and Omega was perfect for when he wanted his ankles by his ears and a fat cock pushing so far into his guts he could taste it.

Just thinking about it made a pretty pearl of cum bead up from his tip. He smears it over the ruddy head with his thumb, rolls his hips as he toys with the slit and thinks about the others.

Dew was so cute to rile up. He could get spitting mad over some teasing and all Ifrit would have to do was look down and see where all the blood went. Only made the little guy madder, but all Ifrit had to do to apologize was kiss it until it was all better and the flush on Dew’s face was from pleasure and not fury.

Been a while since they hooked up, Ifrit thinks. A little bittersweetness lies in the memories, how Dew had found himself wrapped up in a new role and a new pack while Ifrit was left behind but he doesn't hold a grudge. Just wishes they could meet up again, see if he still has a temper or he’s gotten it under control. Ifrit's seen the way that multi-ghoul needles him, nothing short of a masterpiece there. He’d love to team up with him to make Dew cry sometime and his cock throbs in agreement.

Then there's that pretty water ghoul. Rain. Ifrit's been dying to get to know him all kinds of ways. See if he gets as wet as Dew used to, before his transition. He saw the two of them earlier, before the party really got going and okay, they looked good together. Dew looked downright snappy whenever someone tried to lure Rain away and that was just adorable. Like a dragon angrily guarding the first shiny trinket of its horde.

Monogamy isn't really a thing to the ghouls. Why would it be? Still, sometimes they can get possessive over each other. Dew's definitely got the worst case of it Ifrit's ever seen over Rain. He'd curled himself tight around the water ghoul, scenting him something fierce. Ifrit could pick it up from halfway across the field. And okay, it was a little cute. New love, and all that.

He blinks. Right, that's how he came to be here pumping his dick. He got so caught up in the vision of Dew and Rain and their entangled limbs, combined with the noises of a few threesomes happening, his mind laid out a beautiful picture of himself sandwiched between the two of them. Maybe he could coach Rain on how best to rile up Dew, get his little cock as red as his face. What to say to make his brow furrow even as he huffs out a too-quick orgasm.

Speaking of…

His balls already tight, Ifrit lets himself go and sighs at the way it aches when he does. He's got better stamina but he's been here a while, whatever he drank is working its dirty little magic on him and the night is still young. Wouldn't want to wear himself out too quickly.

If he listens, he can hear Mist crying in that perfect way she does when someone's licking her cunt and someone else is doing her gills. Belial, she's cute. Maybe he just has a thing for water ghouls, but who wouldn't with all their sensitivities and tendencies to get so wet. Maybe he should get up and join them, attack her gills from the other side and really get her going, get a few fingers stuffed up her cunt, make her squirt like she always does. His hand wraps around himself again and before he knows it, he's got his tongue in Rain's gills instead, frenching him from the inside while he bounces on Ifrit's lap, claws digging into his shoulders. Feeling Rain gasp for air as he creams around Ifrit's cock, Dew’s eyes dark with fury.

“You look like you're having fun.” Comes a soft voice and Ifrit chuckles, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Just thinking about you.” He says honestly, cracking his eye to peer at Rain. He looks good tonight. Always looks good but this is the first time Ifrit's seen him in something other than his uniform, a pair of light blue shorts that skim the tops of his thighs and a sleeveless shirt with thin straps and thinner fabric. Ifrit’s eyes lazily slide up and then firmly look back down, no shame. Dew’s not here to hiss and snarl, Ifrit's going to take advantage. As much as Rain will let him.

“We’ve never been properly introduced.” Rain muses, coming closer. “I know your name though. Seen you around. Seen some footage.”

“Do you like what you see?” Ifrit asks, angling himself so Rain can get an eyeful of his body, toned muscles and cock on full display. Like before. He's not shy about his own vanity. He half expects his confidence to intimidate the quiet water ghoul but Rain…Rain laughs at him. No one's ever laughed at Ifrit before.

He doesn't know if he likes it or not.

“Dew said you were cocky.” He drops to his hands and knees, tail coiling behind him. His eyes narrow as he comes up between Ifrit's thighs and smiles with a little too much fang for comfort. “He wouldn't be happy if he knew I was with you.”

“Then why are you here anyway?” Ifrit asks bluntly, trying to regain a foothold in the strange shift that he's pretty sure just happened.

“Because sometimes it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Rain tells him with a nip to his skin that sends Ifrit reeling. No way this is happening. He can still smell Dew on Rain's clothes, smoke and anger and lust. So much lust.

"Isn't Dewdrop your, uh…" Boyfriend is the first word that comes to mind but it doesn't feel right. Too human, too exclusive. Packmate would be the best option yet it still feels too casual for whatever the hell those two have going on. He and Dew were packmates and they were never so touchy-feely as he is with Rain. He vaguely remembers Dew getting a little weird about Aether when he was first summoned but it still had nothing on how he behaved now. Rain seems to humor it and continue to do his own thing when Dew's not looking but he still doesn't want to get on the little guy's bad side and ruin any possibilities.

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

His fingers tickle dangerously high and Ifrit squirms against the tree.

"Well," Rain continues thoughtfully, casually wrapping his hand around the base of Ifrit's cock, hiding the sudden flare of his tattoos as he begins to stroke him slowly. "My Dewdrop said he didn't want you touching me. So don't touch me. And we'll be alright."

Ifrit feels far from alright at this moment in time, but then Rain's bowing to dab his soft tongue to the underside and he can't find it in him to argue. The first gentle lap hits him harder than a punch, the second, somehow even worse. Rain entertains himself with Ifrit's cock like he's got all the time in the world; sliding the foreskin to and fro over the ridge, mouthing at the tip and going even lower to fit both of Ifrit's balls in his mouth. Going back up and rubbing his cheek against the head to smear the beads of pre cum all across his face.

"These are pretty," he remarks, so casual as if he was admiring a garden or a display of jewelry. Ifrit doesn't even know what he's talking about at first until Rain starts tracing the outline of his tattoos with his tongue. He got them done months ago, glyphs written and designed to further pleasure a partner. Maybe one or two thrown in so no matter how he thrusts, he always hits the best spots.

"Enchanted?" He asks, looking at Ifrit with his dark eyes, pressing a kiss to the shaft. Ifrit nods stupidly, fingers curling in the grass to keep from grabbing Rain's head and pushing him down again, make that pretty mouth drool with how Ifrit would fuck it.

"Thought so." Rain says with satisfaction. "I like the way it tingles when I touch them. Must feel good to get fucked by a cock like this."

"I've had no complaints." Ifrit gasps as Rain lays his tongue flat to slap his cock against it. He's such an active participant in his past flings that it feels off-putting to just sit here and let himself be…be toyed with. He doesn't even think Rain's blinked once since settling between his thighs and it's unnerving.

"When Dew calms down a bit," Rain starts, moving Ifrit's cock this way and that to admire all of his tattoos as they glow. "With this whole possessive thing. Maybe I'll ride it."

"Fuh-" Ifrit hisses as a large blurt of precum oozes out of his slit. Rain drinks it down then goes even further, opening his jaw for Ifrit to easily slide in without grazing any fangs. "Fucking, oh, oh that's good."

He's so pent up from touching himself earlier, thinking he wouldn't have to worry about stamina. Now he's got Rain making the sweetest, choked noises as he fucks his face on Ifrit's dick, nice and sloppy, getting his saliva all over Ifrit's balls while he gags on it. Ifrit's tearing up handfuls of grass as Rain brutalizes his own throat, moaning and trying to stifle his moans at the same time, lest Dewdrop catch them in the act and get royally pissed off.

Rain would probably just kiss him with a mouth of Ifrit's cum, his brain offers up and it's over.

He cums with a pained noise, faster than he'd like to but again he’d been working himself up decently beforehand and if he knew Rain was going to go to town on him, he would have saved his stamina. He tries to warn Rain with a stuttered exclamation as his body locks up. Rain just pulls away to tug at his cock and Ifrit starts praying Rain will put it back in his mouth and swallow but he keeps pumping his hand at first. Aims so the first spray lands thick over his eyelashes, the second glossing his full lips, smearing the head around before kissing it and pushing down to take Ifrit in, letting him finish directly down his tight throat.

“Fuck!” Ifrit shouts, hitting his head on the tree when he throws it back, trying to fuck Rain's mouth for the last few flexes of his cock. Rain keeps still, lets his jaw hang open as Ifrit pushes his cum back in as it drools out, relishing the slide of Rain’s tongue on his skin even as he slips into oversensitivity and the friction is too much. Rain lets him go with a final kiss and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Ifrit's cum is dabbed off Rain’s eyelashes with his ring finger, also licked clean. There's something almost feline about him as he does it, looking so beautiful in the fractured moonlight coming down from between the branches.

"Can I," Ifrit starts. "Do you…anything?" He sounds stupid to himself and can't even imagine what he sounds like to Rain, staring down at him with a passive, unreadable expression.

"I already got mine." He says carelessly, flopping back and spreading his thighs to show off the wet fabric of his tight little shorts clinging to his cunt. Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes riveted on the way he drags his fingers softly over it. He can see the way they bump over the shape of his swollen clit and Ifrit moans right along with Rain when he rubs the tip of it.

"Swiss and Aether." He tells Ifrit, a subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. He raises a leg and uses the motion to flip himself over, lifting his tail to reveal another damp spot just underneath that's slowly drooled out enough cum to combine with the first one.

"Mountain."

Ifrit practically convulses with the longing stab of arousal the sight gives him, wheezing as Rain wiggles his shorts down to give him a better look at his well-used holes, swaying his hips and letting them gape for the briefest of moments, before shimmying his clothes back on and doing something elegant and twisted that results in him standing up, hand on his hip. Looking down at Ifrit with an amused little smile.

“Dew always forgives me if I confess everything. Helps to give him a demonstration too…So he knows what he missed out on.” It's said in such a blaisè tone for all the heavy implications in the words, Ifrit can't quite believe what he just heard. Just stares open mouthed at Rain with his soft cock wilting against his thigh and his ears ringing. Rain covers his laugh and leans close. Lets Ifrit get a nice view of his tits down his top as he takes two fingers, the two he'd touched himself with, and pets Ifrit's tongue. Before he knows what he's doing, he closes his lips around them and sucks, shivering at the faint taste of salt and sex.

“You're cute.” Rain says. “I hope I get to play with you again.”

He tries to say something but what exactly he wants to say he doesn't know. It just comes out as a stupid little uh-huh around Rain’s fingers as he withdraws them. He chases them but then Rain’s giving him a little head shake, wiping them on Ifrit's cheek and he falls back, defeated and stunned. Rain giving him that mischievous little smile the whole time.

“See you ‘round.” He says, tapping those same two fingers against his eyebrows, giving Ifrit a lazy salute. The fingers go from his temple to his mouth, where Rain spreads them and licks lasciviously in between with a wicked little wink before turning and walking off, leaving Ifrit to stare at the way his hips swing in well fucked and insouciant little half circles. How he's not limping is beyond anyone's guess.

“Damn…” he wheezes, head hitting the trunk. “Just… damn.”

What a night.

#Ifrit x rain #rain x dewdrop #ifrit x rain x dewdrop #nsft #cw cucking #damn i actually finished it really quick. that means there's something wrong with it.

[shadowsingerofnight]

So um, to be honest I don’t know what this is. It was on a whim, written in one go so don’t take it too seriously lol

It was inspired by this post right here, by @dawntoducks

Hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of the door slamming shut brought Elain back to reality.

Standing in the middle of the sitting-room, she glanced to the window, to the city beyond. Velaris was in full bloom, children running and laughing just outside. She could even spot some kites flying this and that way, guided by tiny, giggling kids.

She had always thought kites to belong in fairytales, somehow never considered actually playing with one. She marvelled at them.

She kept watching- stalling, as one little girl accidentally bumped into the big magnolia tree outside the gate and let go of the slim thread she was holding. A cry sounded, the girl immediately getting up and jumping towards the sky. Desperately trying to reach high, high, higher- like the hurt didn’t matter, like she just wanted to get back what she had lost. But it was too late.

Elain blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart began racing, the rhythm akin a horse’s gallop. Frantic, but with purpose.

It was always like that, her soul recognising a song she sometimes could faintly hear herself. A poem that had existed within her since the dawn of time, somehow.

“Are you okay?”

Somewhere among the blooming trees…

Elain had never heard a voice like that. Not when she was human, not after. Non since she had heard his for the first time. A voice so stark and yet warm. So deep and yet melodious.

She could feel it, tingling on her skin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, still not looking at him.

Outside, on a magic wind, the girl’s kite flew right back in her arms. Elain smiled faintly.

“I… felt something,” he replied. “Like you were calling for me.”

She was? Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised her. Elain still didn’t quite understand how this whole thing worked. But could he actually feel when she was thinking about him?

It was quite a lot.

“That’s why I thought you were in danger.” He went on, “I assumed it was the only way you could call for help.” His tone was low, steady. Like he didn’t want to scare her away.

Because I know it wouldn’t be me you’d call if you could help it.

She hated that he didn’t understand. She hated that she could not bring herself to tell him the truth, how his smile was the first thing she saw in the morning. That his laugh sounded in her ears with every step she took. That his hands were what she imagined when she… Red stained her cheeks.

She hadn’t yet looked at him, but she could just see his head dip to the side as if wondering what she was thinking about. Or rather, was she really thinking about what he suspected?

At the top of the tallest mountain…

“Elain,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Elain furrowed her brows, but her chin remained dipped.

He sighed unevenly and then spat, voice higher, “I’m sorry the Cauldron made me your mate. I’m sorry I’m so abhorrent you can’t even look at me. Just tell me you’re fine and I’ll go.” His arms slackened at his sides. Defeated.

Elain’s head snapped towards him then. Her eyes met one of russet and one of gold, like the brightest of suns on a fall day. She saw the tears first, the same ones she could feel marking her own cheeks.

In the depths of all the seas…

“You-,” she sniffed. “You stupid, stupid prick.”

She saw his eyes widen the instant she closed the distance between them and pointed an accusatory finger to his chest.

“You know nothing!” She yelled. Actually yelled.

Elain wiped some of the tears away, but they kept coming like an overflowing river. Feelings buried so deep came afloat.

“Don’t you understand I can’t look at you?” She demanded more than asked.

“How can you not see I’m burning?” Her index finger kept poking his chest of its own volition while his face had paled alarmingly. He was looking down at her, tears glistening in the light.

On a journey so certain…

“You think I don’t feel anything”? Elain sniffed again. “Well, you’re so terribly wrong! I feel so much every time I look at you, I don’t know what to do.” Words were flowing and she didn’t even have to think them.

“You live with me every second of every day. You render me useless every time I think of you because all I want is to touch you and kiss you and hold you and never let go.”

He caught her wrist and flattened her hand above his heart. It was beating so fast.

“I want you, Lucien.” She could feel him tremble underneath her palm, just when he closed his eyes as to savour her words. “I just don’t want to burn you.”

Lucien smiled, so sweet and wicked at the same time, eyes so full of hope she cursed herself for not telling him sooner. “Didn’t you hear?” He whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “I’m the Lord of Flames.”

I search for light and I find you.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sarah j maas #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elucien #elucien fic

[wolven91]

Drifting - Part 9

Casper’s sleep was deep and curative. Morning throughout the several weeks he had spent training with Qik and the geckins had been moments of him snapping awake, aware and scared. 

His breath would catch and the young man would be *certain* that there was *something* inches away from him, merely reaching out to his vulnerable form. 

This would repeat throughout the night, breaking up his sleep schedule until he really felt as if he was only getting the bare minimum most days despite falling into his bed almost as soon as he had gotten home. 

This morning however, his eyes opened slowly. 

Without the spike of fear that he was in danger, Casper was unsure if he was dreaming or not. He took stock of his surroundings and slowly tried to understand what was different today. He could see the mattress up close, the near perfect weave of the material being soft against his face and under his fingertips. 

Blinking, he noticed his hand, which twitched in realisation that it was connect to thim. 

At his twitch however, the large brown furred hand that was placed over it gently curled its own fingers around his, pressing between the spaces of his own digits. He lay there for a time, merely looking and watching without thought or opinion. 

It was nice… The tiny action, so small that an observer would be hard pressed to say it had happened at all, filled his chest with something warm. Like a wooly scarf had been wrapped around him, wrapped around his heart. 

There was a moment however, when he wondered where this hand had come from, so asleep his mind still was. 

The arm the larger hand was connected to, disappeared out of his sight and somewhere behind him. When he tried to move however, that was when he discovered the weight on top of him. 

It wasn’t ‘heavy’, that was the wrong word. 

The pressure on top of him was reassuring. It belonged there. He felt secure in its ‘solidness’, its security. The pressure was mostly across his back and shoulders. But he felt thick, silky furry limbs intertwined with his own. Finally, that was when he noticed the whiskers that were protruding into his sight from above. The hairs were fine and very thin, so he had missed them during his still sleepy state. That was the moment he felt her head, resting on his from above, using his own head as a pillow, tucked beneath her chin.

Casper could feel that one of her long ears, that normally trailed down the back of her head and rested over her shoulders, had now fallen across his face. It’s fur even more delicate than the rest of what covered body and the exposed flesh of the inside of her ear was soft and warm, almost hot to his skin.

Her breath was steady, even and deep. With each inhale, he felt a broad chest slowly inflate across his back, gently pushing him into the mattress, before the mouth that laid over his ear, exhaled softly, the warm wind washing over his face beneath the blanket. 

She was still fast asleep. Casper, still half asleep, relaxed. There was no threat, there was no danger. He was safe in Qik’s arms. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, his own lungs taking in the warm air that smelt like her. Of wet forests and damp moss. His movement was enough to move her however. 

She didn’t wake or stir, but instead her legs tightened, curling his body into her, while her that held his hand drew closer to the pair of the sleeping bodies. In this moment, neither mind could have said where either body began or where the other ended. 

Casper closed his eyes, and in the early hours of the morning, fell back asleep. 

He rested.

His body and mind recovered in a way that hadn’t been possible, since he had slept in a human made bed on a human owned planet, billions of miles away from where he was now. Qik, on the other hand, slept like a baby. She couldn’t sleep without a pillow to hold and had found her alternate option had been a perfect replacement. 

Several hours later, when the system’s star had climbed high into the sky of the planet, the pair remained, entwined together.

Until a communicator gave a unique trill that made Qik’s ears twitch.

The pair of them ‘awoke’ in the traditional sense at the sound of the device, but only Qik disconnected, twisting her torso in a way that would have Casper straining and groaning to copy. Her hand apparently retrieved the device from the side table that crouched at the side of the oversized bed and reviewed the screen, above Casper’s head and out of sight. 

“Mm.. Fair enough.” Qik murmured, more to herself than to Casper. 

“What’s up?” The human asked, laying still, not sure how to address the fact that his teacher for the better part of two months was currently spooning him, and had done so for the whole night. 

“Got a message from my company. They’re on their way back to pick me up.” She explained dismissively, twitching her arm and the device locking sound immediately played. “We should get up, get some breakfast.” She then advised, changing the subject.

“I’m not hungry to be honest.” Casper replied, still remaining there and being truthful. He felt fine. Better than fine in fact, better than he had in a long time. The lopel didn’t reply straight away, and instead she released him so she could begin a bone cracking stretch that had her entire body quaking at the apex. She let out a high pitched squeak and sighed. 

“Well that’s too bad. You’re eating or I will think up a punishment.” She pointed out callously before rolling away and stranding up from the bed in a single smooth movement. She hadn’t even hesitated to reply, meaning that she was either serious, or had expected him to say that. Casper rolled onto his back and into the depression left in the mattress by the lopeljack. He could feel the material slowly rising back into position, despite his whole body weight and considered their differences. 

He watched the lopel as she strutted over to the kitchenette, on the other side of his quarters. She held her arms across herself, stretching as she moved. 

Despite being closer to his size than any of the other races he’d interacted with, the lopel was still a good three or four feet taller. She wasn’t as muscular as say a canid, nor nowhere closer to as big as an ursidain, but her toned and fit body showed evidence of a creature that was healthy and into their fitness. 

What drew his eye was her hips. 

Casper hadn’t interacted with many lopeljacks, in fact his total was one, so he had no frame of reference if the wide hips was normal for one of her kind. Whilst her whole body was toned, she could flex her arm and muscles would bulge from beneath her fur, it was her legs that were a sight to behold. 

They looked like a mix between a cyclist’s, a runner’s and a weight lifter’s. She was in a perfect proportion, but in Casper’s unguarded state, his mind offered the idea that she could quite easily crush a watermelon between her thighs without much effort. 

He blinked suddenly as the melon was replaced with his own head, then stamped down on the thought before it got anywhere. 

His eyes then, almost guilty, paid attention to what the rump with it’s white fluffy tail and the body it was connected to, was doing, rather than ogle it. 

“Aw come on, anything but-” The young man moaned openly, closing his eyes and letting his head sag in the beginnings of a tantrum. 

“Shut it.” She ordered without hesitation. “You are eating it.” Qik cut in, as she poured more of the nutrient slurry into a bowl and began to return. She had two bowls, one in each hand. 

“For god’s sake; *why*!?” The young man demanded, more as a petulant child than a full grown adult, unwilling to take his medicine. Qik merely rose an eyebrow and sat on the bed as Casper folded his legs in.

“Because it’ll make you feel better.” The lopel explained, pressing one of the bowls into his hands. The whitish, pinkish, mush looked just as unappitising as before with a plain spoon sat in it.

“I feel better already! Better than I have in weeks.” Casper explained, looking up, really not having the appetite to go through with this. He didn’t need to eat right now, he just had to convince her. 

Qik, however, was having none of it. Hey tone was dry, despite dripping in sarcasm. 

“Wow… I wonder why? Could it be… You ate a whole portion? Like a normal person and got a shower?” She asked, stumping Casper.

“I…”

“You feel better because you aren’t starving. You did some bare minimum self care. If you don’t keep it up, you’ll feel like shit again.” She explained, nearly ticking each point off with her spare hand. 

“Now. Either you look after yourself, or have someone look after you. I’ve seen enough husk pilots and the galaxy doesn’t need another.” She concluded, spooning some of the mush into her own mouth from her own bowl and swallowing it without complaint. 

“‘Husk pilots’? The hell is a ‘husk pilot’?” Asked the young man, his curiosity peaked once more. If he was going to be a ‘merc’ he’d need to know the terms and this was the first he’d heard of this. 

“Eat that and I’ll explain. Deal?” Offered the lopel, gesturing to his untouched bowl with her spoon. Her eyebrow was still squirked, but now she wore a smirk. 

She had him. He knew it. She knew it.

“I hate you.”

“Mm, you and everybody I’ve ever gone up against. Eat.” She agreed and ordered, completely unphased as she heaped another load of the slop into her mouth. Out of options, he obeyed.

She took a moment before she spoke around another mouthful.

“Okay. So ‘husk pilot’ is just a term for someone who’s a career pilot and nothing else.” She began, looking at the ceiling as she spoke, recalling the information. 

“And I mean ‘and nothing else’. They’re good at what they do, real good, at the cost of everything else, they don’t *do* anything else..” She explained, swiping her spoon through the air, emphasising her words. 

“How do you mean?” Casper asked as he swallowed, lowering the bowl after bringing it up to his face to eat. Qik made a ‘mm’ noise, pointing at him with her spoon before swallowing and continuing. 

“Wipe your chin. So, they’re low drifters and are essentially addicted to piloting because they feel stronger or more powerful inside their rigs.” Casper used his wrist to wipe the drop of the slurry from his chin before pulling a face of agreement and nodding.

“I have to admit, it does feel… different in the rig. I feel… Better.” He admitted, the feeling of being inside a thirty foot hunk of hardware was unlikely anything he’d felt before.

“Mm, I suspect you or at least your people will be more susceptible to it. Any extended or hard campaigns, where you wont get breaks like the one we have now? You’ll be exposed to those effects by necessity.” The lopel said with a grave and serious tone. Nodding sagely as she tilted her bowl, the dregs of her meal pooling at the bottom.

“So what’s the deal?” Casper said, tilting the bowl up to his lips, consuming the last of his breakfast. 

“Ignoring their greater skill, the effect is in their body and minds. The body wastes away, they don’t use their muscles in the day and by the time they’re out of the mechs, maybe after three or four days of continuous fighting? Their bodies atrophy.” Qik explained, with a sad expression on her features. Casper suspected she had known a husk pilot before. The human’s face contorted though as he considered her words. 

“Days? What about food? Waste?” He asked, aware that one of the first things he did after piloting the training mechs was to go sit on the toilet. 

“Military or deployment caskets aren’t the same as our training ones. Same deal, but that mask they put on you? That can be a feeding tube. Likewise, the Nerve-Suits can be upgraded to handle waste and act as stillsuits.” She explained happily, as if discussing the weather. Casper grimaced. 

“Grim.” 

“Yeah, but that’s what the fighting is about. Who blinks first. The longer a pilot can be deployed, the more attrition they can pressure the other side with. Either the pilots complete the task instantly within the same day as being deployed, or they’re in it for the long haul, at least that’s my experience.” Qik tongued the back of her spoon, finishing off her own bowl.

“So… if I became a ‘husk’? What does that mean for me?” Casper asked, still curious. 

“You’d be weak. Very weak. Like ‘wheelchair usage’ weak. You’d need a more specialised food slurry and it would be pumped into you like that first time. You remember your little hospital stint way back when?” She asked with a sharp grin, the young man wasn’t certain if she was still sore about that. 

“Not something I’d want a repeat of.” He admitted truthfully. 

“I doubted as much, I’ve had to have food by nose tube before. I hate it. Anyway, more reason to not push it too far. *And*! Thanks to the wording of our joint contracts, the geckins can’t make you do a long stint.” She explained excitedly, changing the subject rather smoothly.

“We got what’s called ‘blitz’ contracts. Either the operation is do-able in a single op, or it's not a valid operation to fulfil the contract and we get half pay with the contract marked as ‘complete’.”

This caused Casper to pause. The way she spoke was as if the geckins would try something ‘cloak and dagger’ style. 

“Do you really think the geckins would be that underhanded?” Casper asked, defending them somewhat. He’d upset them, sure, by demanding he be free to leave at his pleasure, but hardly enough for them to sign him up to an operation he couldn’t do. Right?

Qik disagreed immediately. 

“Yes. Without doubt or question.” She said sternly, more so than he had heard before.

“Really?” The young man asked, not quite believing her intensity. She took a moment to gently place the now empty bowl on the bed beside her before leaning forwards, capturing his entire attention. 

“Casper… You represent something that is going to give them an edge. Not ‘could’, you ‘will do’. Already; they’ve got a ton of data that’s helping them.” She explained with a knowing tone. The young man wasn’t sure he could pick out when Qik was lying, but she’d yet to do so if he recalled. She had only wanted what was best for him, yet now she was speaking as if she knew more than she was letting on. 

Casper squinted. 

“How do you know?” He asked. The lopel paused before shrugging and giving a lopsided smile. 

“I get bored easily.” She explained cryptically. Casper thought about that for a moment, trying to make it make sense, until all he could say was…

“Huh?”

Qik grinned, picking up her bowl and taking his from his hands and bounded away. Once more, Casper’s eyes were drawn to her rear and was reminded that once more; she was stark naked. It wasn’t the same as if she were human. He couldn’t see any major characteristics, the fur that covered her, made it so to call her ‘naked’ felt… incorrect. 

His train of thoughts were derailed again as she spoke, returning to the bed. 

“I broke into their offices and read their reports.” She explained with a mischievous air and a shrug. “I can’t help it, it’s a habit. My company stopped locking the doors after a while, took the fun out of it and I stopped reading their mail.”

“But what-” Casper started, but then Qik shook her hands, shushing him as she got back on track.

“Oh yeah, look, the geckins aren’t your friends.” She pointed out, throwing herself onto the bed.  

“They aren’t happy they’re losing you and are going to do their best to keep you around. It’s not their government, so to speak, but more private organisations that want you. Deniable plausibility in my opinion, so they can’t be accused by the GC of anything shady, but these aren’t creatures you can let your guard down around. They’re logical.” She stated with a factual tone.

“That means…” Casper asked, drawing out the word to lead her to continue. The lopel pulled a face at the ceiling then continued.

“Let me put it this way. If they thought putting you on a slab would help them win the war with the ssypno, they’d have you there by the day’s end.”

Casper blinked.

“They’re at war with the ssypno?” He asked incredulously. 

“Hah, that’s actually the most straightforward part of all this.”Qik replied with a smile, turning to rest her head on her hand, laying across Casper’s bed like an artist’s model. 

“I didn’t even know.” He mumbled.

“Open secret. It’s not a ‘war’, it's ‘expansion skirmishes’. Basically some noble, years and years ago, found the geckins and tried to put them under the thumb. Geckins fought back, established themselves as independent, now the ssypno are trying to surround geckin systems with their own and the geckins are giving them a run for the money. For me and you? It's just a constant money stream.” She added with a shrug. 

The pair were silent for a moment before the lopel sat up again and touched a hand to the lump in the covers that was Casper’s foot.

“Look, long story short? Don’t trust anyone but yourself and secondly, your company. Don’t let the geckins trick you or force you into a corner. It won't be pretty. And finally? You’ll need to be ready to fight, sooner rather than later.” She said with a tone that was as dangerous as a loaded gun with the hammer cocked back.

Even Casper didn’t miss the barely hidden warning.

“Wait… Why? Why did you say it like that?”

The lopel raised her communicator. 

“I got the message when we woke up. Fight’s back on. We’re to be deployed.”

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry #Lopeljack #rabbit

[pernadette]

Imagine: You try to apologize to Graves (negative ending)

“Mr. Graves!” you called out as you chased after him down the empty corridor of the base, your heels clicking loudly on the worn cement floor. You had to do this before your courage could pack its bags and flee with a one-way ticket to Hawaii.

Phillip Graves hesitated, half inside his assigned room already. He glanced around quickly and cautiously, checking for witnesses, before finally settling on you as you stopped just shy of his door. “Yes, what can I do for you?” he asked with cool politeness that did not meet his eyes one bit. 

Trying your best not to be cowed by the carefully managed anger that simmered beneath his words, you got straight to it. “Do you have a moment? Please, I want to apologize for…earlier.”

Graves' dark blonde brows raised as he considered the obviously unwelcome request. “You have sixty seconds," he said as stepped fully into his room and motioned for you to follow. "Make ‘em count.”

This made you hesitate. You had expected to speak to him out here, where a witness could easily be called out to if the conversation went south. You did not expect to be invited into the ominous privacy of his temporary bedroom. Judging by the almost smug expression on his disarmingly handsome face, it was clear he knew this.  He was testing you.

Fine then. Test away. The sooner this was over, the better. 

Bolder than you felt, you stepped into the room, forced to brush rather intimately past him as he refused to budge from his position. It was only once you were fully inside that he stepped back and closed the door. “Fifty seconds.”

Bastard.

Heart hammering in your chest, you tried to ignore the closed door and instead looked directly up at him as you offered a very rehearsed apology. “Mr. Graves, I apologize for my behavior early. It was inappropriate, and though I am not military, it was insubordinate. Truly, I am sorry. It will not happen again.”

Graves listened as you spoke, sharp blue eyes never leaving your own. “Apology accepted,” he said with a slight grin. He took a step closer, forcing you to take back. This repeated until your back was against the wall. Stepping right into your space, he leaned forward, face close to yours. “However, it is very important that you listen to what I’m about to say, and take it to heart darlin’.”

Without warning he lashed  out and took hold of your jaw tightly, slamming the back of your head into the wall. Ignoring your pained cry, he leaned in until his lips were barely an inch from yours, cold eyes drilling into you. “I don’t give two shits about your ‘civilian status’, don’t you ever speak to me like that in front of my men again. Do you understand me?”

Terrified and certain he would crack your jaw if he held it any longer, you tried to nod your head. “Yes, I understand,” you whimpered out, traitorous tears pooling in your eyes, betraying your fear. You tried to blink them away.

Far from satisfied, he pressed you mercilessly into the wall with his own hard body, grip on your jaw tightening. “Yes what?”

Trembling as he pushed a knee between your legs, you managed to stammer out, “Yes sir, I understand sir.”

He held you there still, body pressed fully into yours, grip tightening further until you were certain he meant to maim you, only to release you after a minute. He patted your aching cheek almost affectionately, thumb brushing your lips gently as he smiled down at you now. “Don’t you ever forget it, sweetheart. You can close the door on your way out.”

#cod #call of duty #call of duty imagines #phillip graves #graves #graves x reader #shadow company #cod mw2 #cod mw3

[waywardsalt]

theres a lot abt post-ph ive never really mentioned. grants theres also a lot i havent figured out

#i only have a handful of arcs and scenes properly figured out i need to get my shit together with this. im def deleting this later #anyways. i dont think ive mentioned anything abt linebeck being more or less immortal #in the sense that like. he cant be killed through combat means. its some weird healing magic shit #specifically started with the intent that it lets me tear him apart repeatedly but its fine bc he heals anyways #with the limits of like. poison and sickness and certain things CAN kill him. but he can like. get disemboweled and its fine #im gonna delete this later im jsut thinking sbt it #i remember while talking to it with a friend he asked ok so how does it work if he gets torn evenly in half #cuz my logic is like. say he gets an arm cut off. the lost arm decays like normal and a new one kinda just slowly grows in bones first #so his question is one ive been thinking sbt since i need to come up with a good answer #anyways linebeck is fucked post ph hes got insane healing shit due to uhhhh reasons (i know the reasons) but hes still made of papier mache #so its like. bellum is more or less indestructible so hes the only actual immortal #while linebeck is just. prone to being a little more reckless. i need to tweak story stuff. hes the worst in combat #so hes very down to like. cutting a hand open to give bellum some of his blood. its fine itll heal in like an hour #the idea is that the healing becomes faster the longer it is since he gets that ability but there is a ceiling #its like a mixture between technically having phantom blood and some other god-ish deity interference i need to zero in on it dw #look i need it so that he can be covered in his own blood and in agony several times without like. him actually fucking dying from it

[aria0fgold]

I've reached a point in my OC making activities that the majority of my OCs are really just Alec and Ray but a lil to the left and I don't know what to do with that cursed information.

#aria rants #cursed or cursed whatever pronunciation it is. its cursed either way #god pls i dont caer bout those two thaaat much *pushes my other ocs to the side that is the most like them* #istg why. why are those two always following me wherever i go (they live in my head) #it isnt that theyre stuck with me. IM stuck with THEM #i was like bored the whole day so i decided to read some manwhas again and develop my new set of ocs #while also just repeatedly telling myself: you all will be fine. it looks like youre just alec and ray reskinned but... BUT #i trust that i can be unhinged enough to completely separate yall from those two fuckers (lovingly but begrudgingly) #and you all can finally be free from a hell of my own making #i say that as i also turn around and look at wtv traits alec and ray has thats subtle enough for me to add to em goddammit #my oc creation process is just me hoping that the stars align well enough for me to think of such an insane scenario #where i can finally dropkick my new ocs at. and they can be their own person separate from a CERTAIN PAIR #that plagues my every waking hour

[envelopandkissme]

.

#i asked my dad if i could give him a kiss #like just on the forehead bc i love him #and he said no #and like he didnt even look at me #and it’s like it’s fine #but also my entire body feels hot and i felt a deep sense of shame enter me immediately #maybe it’s my own fault #but it’s like dude i’m ur daughter #idk i feel like he’s always exasperated with me recently #it makes me wanna die #but it’s also like i need to stop trying #at a certain point its my own fault for constantly showering him in love #when he’s shown me his true colors so many times #and it’s not even just this at all #he’s just such a misogynist and it becomes more blatant everyday idk why i still feel the need to love on him #hhhhhhgggggghhhhhhh #saddies

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

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

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader

「 "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」

— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.

— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!

the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.

in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.

red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,

( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),

and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.

"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.

"nnno. m'not going with you."

"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"

"i already told you... i have a husband..."

your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."

archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?

"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.

definitely not your husband.

idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.

then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.

"night, this husband of yours loves you."

strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?

that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.

and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.

you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"

childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."

you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."

the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.

there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.

childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."

"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"

"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.

panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"

"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."

he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.

"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.

as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.

"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."

ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.

it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.

like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.

it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?

"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.

ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.

"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.

"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"

your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"

"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."

"i don wanna."

"..."

"just... one drop?"

"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."

"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"

ah. "...what's his name?"

"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."

"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.

"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."

just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.

"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."

(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds

tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima

#★ ˎˊ˗ mondaymelon #astronetwrk #x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x you #genshin x reader #childe #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact fluff #alhaitham #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #haitham x reader #x gn reader #genshin oneshots #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfiction #genshin impact imagines #genshin headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #help its been so long how do i tag this again

[lujingheswife]

eyes of silver and gold

soulmate au! everyone has heterochromia, one eye is your natural colour the other is your soulmate’s natural colour. once you meet eye contact, all eyes return to its natural colour.

featuring: neuvillette

word count: 1075

cw: soulmate!au, reader is a liyue adeptus, gn!reader, reader’s eyes are GOLD because GOLD, traveler can be lumine or aether (they/them pronouns), intentional lowercase, not proofread

author’s notes: super duper rushed IM SORRY,,,, this could be written better but yeah 😭😭 i’ll do better next time !!! (i love soulmate aus)

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

neuvillette blinked at the reflection of himself on the mirror for the nth time. it was not the first time he had done so, but every time he observed the eyes of the citizens of fontaine it made him question what made his soulmate so special.

because one thing for sure, he was almost certain his soulmate was not human.

the chief justice knew the eyes of a human when he sees one. their round iris, and the common eye colours of brown or blue could easily tell that they’re merely human.

however, his soulmate’s eye replacing his left one did not look like the eyes of a human. it was an unnatural colour, usually similar to the eye colours of those who wield a vision. what caught his attention though, was the pattern of his soulmate’s eye that stood out amongst the others. like how his eyes are of a dragon’s, and lady furina’s eyes are of dewdrops, his soulmate’s eye, igniting a warm colour, shouted gold.

the first thing he had in mind was the land of gold where the geo element usurper resided. he knew liyue was a land of the adepti, where many immortals who once battled in the archon war still lived in the mountains of amber.

yet for centuries living as the hydro dragon, he had never once encountered his soulmate.

was it because of the distance between them? it was understandable, after all, for an adeptus to remain loyal to their homeland.

he had visited liyue a few times but failed to find this soulmate of his. maybe they were not residing in liyue after all?

neuvillette chose to let fate decide.

he heaved a small sigh as he turned away from the mirror, back to his office desk to continue checking the documents for the next trial.

“monsieur neuvillette!” a loud, squeaky voice which he knew belonged to a certain floating alien chimed through the door. he watched as surprisingly, only paimon, flew her way into his office with an excited expression.

he blinked confusedly at her unusual demeanour. “miss paimon,” he called, “how may i assist you today?”

he allowed her to take her time as she panted heavily. “your—“ she looked up at him and he swore he saw her eyes sparkling a lot brighter than usual. “my?” he asked.

“soulmate! we found your soulmate!! they’re outside!” paimon exclaimed excitedly.

neuvillette’s world stopped for a millisecond, for he had not known that his soulmate had just traveled kilometres from the southern liyue to the northern fontaine. he did not realize his legs moved on his own, allowing paimon to drag him by the sleeve towards the outside of the opera house.

“monsieur?” he heard paimon called before snapping himself out of his thoughts. he noticed her looking at him in concern, realizing he had stopped his tracks right by the door. “are you okay?” she asked.

is he okay? he wondered the same.

he felt an uncomfortable feeling in his chest, as if someone— or something, was banging the drums inside. he felt the drums getting louder and faster, and he could not feel his legs anymore.

he inhaled sharply. “i’m perfectly fine, miss paimon,” he paused in between, “well, let’s meet my… soulmate, shall we?”

his gaze turned towards the entrance of the door, sensing the melusine looking at him eagerly as she patiently waited for him to get ready. “monsieur neuvillette! are you going out?” she asked.

he nodded. “yes, i am. thank you very much.”

the melusine by the door clapped her hands excitedly as she immediately skipped towards the door knob before opening it for him. “well then, enjoy meeting them, monsieur!”

neuvillette watched the door opens before the light outside instantly came greeting him in an embrace.

and the first thing that entered his vision was a pair of heterochromatic eyes that matches his.

you were there with the traveler, dressed in foreign attire not befitting of fontaine. your vision clinging onto your waist like a proud medal. you were by the entrance, surrounded by melusines who were saying how your eyes match their chief justice. he watched how your confused expression tries to have a conversation with the little melusines while the traveler laughed next to you.

the cute moment did not last when the melusines notice the presence of their chief justice, immediately rushing towards him excitedly wanting to ask him about his soulmate. yet his widened eyes had locked with yours, watching your eye adorned with his blueish-purple colour slowly changing back to gold— the familiar gold that greeted him every morning in front of the mirror.

“monsieur neuvillette! your eyes!” he heard a melusine exclaimed, their hands holding his sleeve as they jumped happily.

he blinked confusedly at the tugs of his sleeves when a melusine appeared with a mirror in their hands. they showed a reflection of himself where his eyes were back to his original form— the mixture of silver, blue and purple.

he averted his attention to his soulmate who seemed to be doing the same. you were looking at your own reflection, realizing your eye has reverted to its original form. he watched your surprised expression until you noticed his attention had diverted towards you.

your flushed expressions felt a little foreign to the iudex of fontaine, but he was certainly relieved at the sight of your comfortable state in a foreign region.

he gave you a sincere smile as he placed a hand over his chest as a form of greeting.

“greetings. i’m neuvilette, chief justice and iudex of fontaine. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

since birth, neuvillette never understood the concept of soulmates until he was given a chance to experience such phenomenon. from when he had awoken to a change in his appearance to encountering the partner that was given to him by fate, it was a surprise that a being like him could have one too.

in fact, his own soulmate was not mortal either. an adeptus originating from the land of gold, you began your exploration in the continent with the fellow traveler when they could not stop persuading you to follow them to meet someone.

a smile was formed on your lips in return as you introduced your name to him, which sounded nice to his ears. “and it’s a pleasure to meet you too, mister neuvillette.”

maybe he could give this concept a try.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#genshin x reader #genshin imagines #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette imagine #i love neuvillette

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #smut #spencer reid prompt #writing challenge #mgg #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom

[jisungshotfirst]

grrrrr twt stans annoy me

#I don't wanna gatekeep ruby but if u assume things about him that he has disagreed with before I deserve to gatekeep #like the info is from pm which I Completely and utterly understand not having access to and it's absolutely fine to not know what he's said #because u dont have to engage in every piece of communication he's shared with fans to be a fan I'm not gonna be like that #but GRRRRR #I'm extra sensitive coz it's about his body and I HATE the culture that firstly bellies can only be shown when they have abs and secondly #if they have abs they HAVE to show it . and that showing it to fans is their only reason for exercising or wanting and mainting abs .... #like do y'all hear urselves .... #ruby works out for Himself and himself alone my guys and he says he doesn't have abs and he doesn't want to show his tummy or wear crop tops #and THATS THAT . !! #he's comfy showing us his arms under certain circumstances and I'm happy for him<3 but No one should take them for granted or feel he has to #and No one should be asking him for more 😠 if he's comfortable with it he'll share it himself on his own terms 😠 #and it's annoying And embarrasing if u ask an idol to show off their body imo in like every circumstance there could be #can everyone pls listen to what chan said in that chans room<3 #maybe it's just me being ace but people are 4738389% more attractive when they're wearing clothes NDJEJE #and HIS FACE IS RIGHT THERE JUST LOOK AT HIS FACE #ITS VERY BEAUTIFUL I LOOK AT IT ALWAYS 10000000/10 WOULD RECOMMEND #honestly the fucking nerve of fans to think that an idol is doing something in their personal life Just to show fans ... like bestie #these are real people #ruby is not working out in preparation to show his tummy on stage for fans like WHAT ON EARTH MAKES U THINK THAT #he's a 22 year old man who's working out for his own sake and for his health yall shut up #anywayyyyy #I love woobin 🥺💕 #and I will eat anyone who's not respecting him

[youryanderedaddy]

Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3

As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.

At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.

You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.

One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.

"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.

You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.

"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.

He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.

"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.

"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.

"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.

"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."

You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.

************************************************************************

The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.

"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.

"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."

Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.

"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.

You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.

"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.

As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.

"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.

And he always gave into you.

So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.

"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?

"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"

The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.

"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.

"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.

As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.

#yandere #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere dragon #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

[hazyhae]

sour tangie | njm

plug!bf!jaemin ft. dreamies

part 2 to strawberry cough, but can be read as a standalone

summary: jaemin’s always calm and collected. he's content and he’s got all he needs - friends, weed, and most importantly, you. he never could have imagined what combining the three could do to his mind, especially when he thinks his friend may have taken a little too much of a liking to you.

wc: 6.3k 18+ mdni

cw: afab!gn!reader, weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, unprotected penetrative sex (multiple positions), jeeeealous jealous/possessive jaemin, baby & angel as petnames, rough/angry sex, misunderstandings, annoying haechan, cursing, angst, oral (receiving), edging, a lot of overstimulation, reader has to stop jaemin at some point, reader and jaemin crying, jaemin is still a loving bf who'd do anyth for you in the end

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smoke fills the living room, and your boyfriend is to your left passing you the blunt for the nth time. the rest of his friends are scattered around the circle.

you aren’t sure how long its been, but by the look of everyone’s red eyes around you it’s probably been a while.

you pass the blunt to mark on your right, and slump into your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“are you okay, baby?” jaemin slurs into the top of your head.

you hum to let him know you’re fine, but your slumped figure catches the attention of a certain friend across the circle. his teasing snaps you out of your daze.

“aw poor __, can’t seem to hang anymore?” he taunts in a whiny voice.

your head rises at the challenge, and across you is haechan sporting his usual grin. he’s been a pain in your side since the second you met him and the rest of the friend circle, but you’ve had no problem reciprocating that.

“shut the fuck up hyuck,” you snap.

he laughs at your sleepy hostility. “oooh someone’s cranky,” he continues to tease.

you start arguing back and forth, and everyone just continues as normal, being used to it by now.

jaemin silently watches the interaction, simply opting to snake an arm around your waist to tug you back into his side. you relax back into him as haechan is being passed the blunt, closing your eyes.

haechan closes his own as he inhales the smoke before glancing back in your direction, meeting eyes with your unamused boyfriend instead.

jaemin raises an eyebrow at his friend, who just chuckles and takes another hit, passing it onto chenle.

jaemin shifts his attention back to you as you start to droop, letting the drowsiness take you. he knows you like the back of his hand, and if he leaves you be, he knows you have no problem dozing off then and there.

the blunt makes its way back into his hand and after taking a long hit, he puts it out instead of passing it to you.

jaemin looks at his friends with a tired smile.

“ok guys, time to wrap it up.”

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jaemin and you had been a solid pair for a while, and you’ve had more than enough time to get comfortable with his tight knit circle.

as the plug of his group, jaemin let his place be the main hang out spot. he had started bringing you around to their place to join their blunt rotations more often and you fit right in.

to his friends, jaemin’s relationship with you is chill and private, always the seasoned couple with no major issues. though there are ups and downs, your relationship with jaemin is that way. you both have an understanding of each other like no other.

jaemin never seems to mind anything much, always being a level-headed, collected partner with a talent for diffusing any situation with his calm yet goofy demeanor.

almost any situation.

at this moment, jaemin is not as collected as usual. his mind wanders back to haechan’s interaction with you the night before.

despite knowing its in haechan’s nature to be teasing, even being close with the other members’ partners, he can’t help but feel off about it all. haechan seems to enjoy teasing you just a bit too much.

what’s even worse - you don’t actually seem to mind it that much. in fact, it seems like you enjoy it as well. the dynamic is just a bit different, and the difference is noticeable enough to affect jaemin slowly but surely.

as much as haechan teases you, you know how to get him right back, and you’ve always had an easy time bantering back and forth with his friend. it’s been more noticeable now with how often your visits coincide with his friends’.

jaemin would never try and control who you talk to, he wants you to be comfortable all the time. he wants you to be close with his friends, and he is so happy that you are, but there’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind about haechan in particular.

he’s secure about your relationship and your love for him, and he reminds himself that as he tries to push your interactions with his friend out of his brain.

he just makes sure to include half of what he usually does for haechan’s regular weed order.

jaemin checks his schedule when he wakes up. he’s off work, but he needs to go to his supplier, running low on a lot of items in his inventory. business has been pretty good lately, and he wants to keep that going.

he grins at the thought of using his extra funds to take you on a trip at the end of the year. he’s been wanting to for a while, and he can already imagine your surprised face when he tells you to block out a week for a vacation to who knows where.

work has been busy for both of you plus his plug duties, so you haven’t spent as much time together as you used to.

he daydreams about less hectic times and you stay on his mind. he thinks about you whole way there, and you don’t leave his mind even when he gets his order from his supplier and sets back home.

he decides to visit the cafe you work at since it’s on the way, hoping to see his favorite person. you are staying over at his the following weekend, but seeing you would definitely get him through the time it’ll take to get there.

he gets there in no time, catching sight of the back of your head. it looks like you might be helping one of the guests at a table, so he goes in intending to surprise you when you are done with them.

what he doesn’t expect is a very familar face sitting at the table you’re helping. a very familiar voice, extremely grating to his ears in this moment.

there sits haechan, talking about something with you animatedly with a slice of cake and a mug in front of him. you are busy adding your own input, but he can’t focus on deciphering it from where he’s at.

he feels a tingling in his head. he can’t quite put a name to how he’s feeling, wrestling between anxiety, irritation, and confusion.

what the hell is he doing there? he sees you when you all hang out, so why does he feel the need to come see you, especially when your literal boyfriend who happens to be his friend isn’t there?

jaemin’s thoughts fester as he starts to approach the table, trying to push down the not-so-happy feelings.

“jaemin?”

another familar voice rings in his ears and he turns around to see renjun followed by their younger friend, jisung, coming from the direction of the cafe’s bathroom.

“did you come to join us? jisung is job hunting and we are trying to keep him company,” renjun explains. immediately his shoulders relax at the revelation from his friend.

jaemin could not be happier to see them. he turns his attention back to you and haechan, who has taken notice of him, pointing him out to you and waving him down.

you turn around to see him, and your face brightens at the sight of your boyfriend.

“hi baby, what a surprise!” you say as you bring him into a hug. he wraps his arms around you, and all anxieties leave him.

renjun and jisung join haechan back at the table, and you let jaemin know to sit with them so you can bring him his own dessert.

as he sits down next to jisung, he keeps his eyes trained on you as you plate the slice. he turns his eyes to haechan, who is scarfing his own slice down.

he lets out a deep sigh, though his friends seem too preoccupied to notice or say anything if they did. sitting with his arms crossed, his brows furrow in deep thought.

honestly, he feels a little embarrassed at his internal overreaction. he closes his eyes for a bit. maybe more than just a litte embarrassed.

there’s nothing wrong with his friends coming to a cafe to study. they’re also giving you business, so there’s nothing to be alarmed about.

as you come back with a lemon tart and an americano, he pushes down any lingering feelings from his misunderstanding. he takes a bite of the treat, and the taste spreads throughout his mouth.

sour.

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jaemin tries not to let his perception of you and haechan’s friendship bother him, but he can’t help the alarm bells that keep going off.

your anticipated weekend sleepover with jaemin comes, and you finally get to spend some quality boyfriend time. the two of you are cuddled on his pull-out couch, jaemin rolling a blunt of a new sativa strain he just got.

he’s always wanting to try new things with you, and his supplier had recommended it as his strain of choice.

you hold the small bag in your hand — sour tangie the label reads. he knows you like your citrus and he’s always down for a break from your usual strawberry flavored strain.

he passes his perfectly rolled joint to you, lighting it for you as he always does. he looks at you adoringly as you take your first long hit, inhaling and holding before blowing away from you.

when you pass it to him and he starts taking his own, your gaze mirrors his from a minute ago. as much as you’ve gotten used to the combination of your boyfriend and weed, there’s something that still stirs in you whenever he smokes with you.

it’s been a while since you’ve gotten to spend solo quality time, which means it’s also been quite some time since you have had any intimacy with him. the sight of him even in just a black t-shirt and gray sweats has you drooling.

there’s something so sexy about watching jaemin ensure the joint is properly ashed, rotating it a few times to make sure its burning evenly before passing it to you. always a gentleman.

after some back and forth, he takes one last hit, putting it out as he holds it in. you immediately straddle your boyfriend, having held back long enough to finish the joint.

smoke leaks from between jaemin’s lips, which are pulled in a dopey smile as he wraps his hands around your waist to bring you closer.

truthfully, you had wanted him to take you home then and there when he came to your work, but you held off knowing you’d have the whole weekend together.

the last bit of smoke leaves him as his lips meet yours, the earthy citrus smell and taste hitting both of your senses as you make up for lost time. you start getting lost in each other, kisses getting deeper and deeper.

bzzzzz.

you feel a buzzing on your thigh, neither of you paying it much attention until you realize it’s coming from jaemin’s pocket.

“jaem, your phone.” you breathe out between kisses.

without separating, he reaches between you to pull it out, tossing it to the side without bothering to even check who it is.

“gotta focus on making my baby feel good,” he murmurs into your mouth, planting his hands on your ass to start moving you back and forth over himself.

your head shifts to the side as he starts kissing your neck. through barely open eyes, you take notice of jaemin’s tossed phone, seeing the screen light up with another call. you open your eyes and make out the name on the screen.

“j-jaemin, baby, why is hyuck calling you?”

hearing his friend’s name coming out of your mouth snaps him from his daze and he pauses momentarily. haechan shouldn’t be on your mind, shouldn’t be on your lips while jaemin is making you feel good. he tries to regain composure in his high state.

“ignore it angel.”

he lays a harsh kiss on your neck.

“focus on me only.”

his hips start to grind into yours with more force.

he does his best to ignore his phone, to ignore the person calling, and the buzzing continues for a few more minutes until finally stopping.

his shoulders subconsciously relax a little, and he helps you take your shirt off as well as his own as he starts to lay you onto your back.

your head accidentally hits your own phone, which was left forgotten on the couch and the two of you giggle as you shove it to the side. he slides your shorts off.

eyes glossing over with his target in mind, jaemin starts laying kisses down your body. haechan should be gone from your thoughts, but for good measure he’s gonna make sure your mind can only think about him in the way he knows best.

he’s almost there, starting to spread your legs, pushing your underwear to the side, mouth opening to meet-

bzzzzz.

the irritating buzzing is back, and jaemin frustratedly rises, looking for his phone to turn it completely off with you whining at his separation.

when he finds his phone, he’s met with his lockscreen of you, confused to see no incoming call. it’s quiet, yet he still hears buzzing. his eyes slowly shift to your phone, shoved not far from where he threw his own phone.

“just turn my phone off too baby,” you plea, trying to close your legs around him to bring him back.

he has a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as his hand moves to your still buzzing phone. he turns it over and holds himself back from hurling your phone at the wall.

a goofy picture of a red-eyed, high haechan appears on your screen, along with his contact name- hyuckie.

jaemin almost sees red, ending the call and turning your phone off with lightning speed. he’s silent.

after the phones are off, he slides your underwear completely off, and resumes his place between your thighs. wrapping his arms around them with a harsh grip, he starts going down on you with a fervor different from usual.

the pleasure hits you right away and you’re clutching at his hair to press him further into you. your mind is empty besides thoughts of jaemin, jaemin, and jaemin.

your boyfriend’s thoughts are anything but empty.

why was haechan calling you? if jaemin didn’t answer, shouldn’t he call the other friends? were the two of you even close enough to call like that? hyuckie?? what the hell is that??

his thoughts race as he slips his tongue in and out of your entrance, nose hitting your clit as his thick arms hold your legs open.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, your peak threatening to hit at any moment. your moans get louder and louder as your hands clutch jaemin’s hair tighter.

“fuck jaem- baby, i’m gonna cum, b-baby” you repeat his name, back arching as you he brings you to a shattering orgasm, but he doesn’t slow down in the slightest, totally lost in your heat and his own thoughts.

he keeps going at your entrance as you try to lightly push at his head, starting to shake from overstimulation.

what makes him think he can call you on a saturday night? trying to ruin our weekend? he’s always there and—

“jaemin, stop!” you shriek, punctuated with a stronger push to his head. he snaps out of his rambling thoughts and immediately moves his eyes up to meet yours, filled with tears.

oh shit.

“was too much, baby..” he panics at your tears and wobbly voice.

“oh no angel, i’m so, so, SO, so sorry i wasn’t thinking,” he wipes his lips and moves to cuddle you, giving you sweet pecks. jaemin whispers apologies into your hair as he kisses your tears away. he massages your thighs, letting your aching legs rest.

“are you okay, angel?” he checks.

“i’m okay jaem, it actually felt really, really good, just was a little too much at the end,” you reassure him.

you aren’t lying in the slightest. you’re not sure what was going on with him, but something about the way he ate you out had you cumming harder than usual. you weren’t expecting it, and that made it overwhelming, but you could get used to this side of jaemin. what brings him out?

“what were you thinking about, baby? not gonna lie, i love everything you do to me but this was a little different. different in a sexy way,” you try to bring a lighthearted tone.

“nothing love, just got lost in how good you tasted,” he avoids the question, and you decide you can just ask again later.

“i’m so sorry again baby. i’ll make it up to you, anything you want me to do. let’s just finish up for tonight, we can go take a bath.” he starts to look for your shirt, but you wrap your legs back around him to stop him from leaving.

there’s no way you’re letting the night end just yet, already turned on again remembering his earlier overstimulation.

“i know how you could make me feel better,” you tell him, making him pause.

“how, baby? i really will do anything you want.” the guilt is evident in his face.

you sit up to lay a sweet kiss on his lips, which he reciprocates, and pull away to whisper in his ear.

“i’d feel so much better if you filled me up.”

his mouth goes dry, and it’s not from the weed.

“no baby it’s all fine, but..” he pauses, with the feeling of himself straining against his pants becoming more and more apparent. you look at him expectantly.

“..are you sure? if it’ll make you feel better then yes, but if it’s all for me then no.”

he’s so torn. he just wants to make sure you’re really okay. he’s never driven you to that point before, always being calm and reassuring even when he’s fucking the life out of you.

you nod as he brushes your hair from your face. you smile at the concerned expression on your sweet lover. “i’m okay jaem, it’s all okay, thank you. i want you,” you reassure him.

jaemin’s heart swells with love and guilt, determined to make it all up to you the best he can. to make sweet love to you all night, like he intended from the beginning.

“i’ll be gentle,” he promises.

as he focuses his mind back onto you, and only you, he sinks into you gently as you adjust to the stretch. with every move he makes, sugary confessions of love and apologies leave his mouth.

as the night progresses and the weed and energy leave your bodies, he can’t help but wonder if haechan’s still trying to call, imagining how it would be to answer it while fucking you to let his friend know he has no chance with you. ever.

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as much as he wanted to, jaemin couldn’t even stay mad at haechan for long. the two of you found out the next day that haechan was black out drunk at a bar your group frequented that night.

he had drunkenly called all of the friend circle, wanting to hear his friends’ voices and to invite you all to join him. jaemin had 7 missed calls, while you had just one.

“__,” haechan’s whiny voice calls you from your voicemail. “jeno didn’t answer my call, jaemin won’t answer me, you won’t answer, why do my friends hate me??” he hiccups in the recording. you hear mark’s muffled voice in the background before the recording ends.

you laugh at the voicemail mesage while jaemin shakes his head, listening from the kitchen as he prepares a simple breakfast for the two of you.

jaemin still feels the pull of guilt from the night before. he almost let his friend’s drunk antics sour one of the first weekends he’s had with you in a while. haechan is harmless and shouldn’t be getting into his head like that.

the two of you spend the rest of your sunday inside, watching your shows and catching up on well needed rest before the start of a new week. he quickly packs some orders for the week and lets you draw little doodles on the paper bags, always lovestruck at how excited you get to do that.

even if he’s kind of at peace with haechan, he still separates his friend’s bag from the ones he gives you to draw on.

you don’t work until the evening on monday, but jaemin has a double shift starting from the morning. he wishes he could call off, spend at least another half day with you in his arms, but he reminds himself of his goal to take you on a trip.

after fucking for the rest of the evening, the two of you shower and head to his bed to sleep early. you’re already exhausted from your earlier session, and the two hits you take from jaemin’s pen knock you out.

jaemin holds you close. he feels content now that he’s gotten to spend time with you, but he knows it would feel even better if he got to without any interruptions.

he tries to not let his mood dampen, but he falls asleep wondering if he should bring it up to his friend.

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when jaemin wakes up the next day, you’re still sleeping soundly next to him. when you don’t work until later in the day, you’ll usually sleep in at jaemin’s, having more than enough clothes and personal items at his place to get ready and go straight to work.

he spends a good minute admiring your sleeping face. you used to get self conscious the first few times you slept over, but for him, there’s not much he loves more than waking up to you.

he lays a gentle kiss on your forehead and gets up as quietly as possible.

he checks his phone, seeing a notification from the friend who’s plagued his mind recently.

1:27am hyuck: bro can i pick up ouid tm pls 1:28am hyuck: or later today same thing

jaemin sighs at the thought of seeing him, but reasons it’s a good thing. he could try to talk to haechan. he doesn’t like how this has not only affected his time with you, but also his thoughts of his own friendship with the guy.

6:43am jaemin: yea thats ok, just come after 6 yk where the key is if im not back by then

jaemin decides their talk is meant to happen if haechan comes while he’s back. you’ll be at work by then.

he makes some coffee and two omelettes, setting aside a portion for you for when you wake up.

he also leaves haechan’s order in a plain brown paper bag on the table. his friends crashing is a regular occurrence, so they all know where jaemin keeps an emergency apartment key.

after he kisses a drowsy you goodbye and leaves a note on the table by the breakfast he made, he grabs his car keys and heads to work.

his shifts were for the most part uneventful, with the highlight of his day being the kissy selfies you sent him, gushing with thanks for the breakfast.

his workload gets heavy towards the end of his shift, leaving his phone unattended for the last 2 hours. he’s exhausted once work ends in the evening, pulling out his phone once he’s settled back in his car.

his stomach drops at two missed texts.

4:16pm my angel 🤍: baby a pipe bursted so they closed the cafe early today!! gonna wait for you to get home and kiss u so hard <3

5:20pm hyuck: omw got out of work early ill just grab it n go tyyyyy

jaemin immediately starts his car and speeds (as safely as he can) home. it’s been 20 minutes since haechan’s texts, but jaemin hopes by some miracle he can get there before him.

jaemin doesn’t see haechan’s car in the guest parking when he arrives, so his hopes are high until he hears the sound of your laughter through his front door. maybe you’re watching something? he finds the emergency key missing. nope.

he braces himself to stay cool, stay calm and collected. for his relationship and his friendship. he unlocks the door, and the smell of weed immediately hits his nose.

oh hell no.

he walks into his living room to see you and haechan sat on the couch. he’s showing you something on his phone and you have a joint in your hand.

“what the fuck?” leaves jaemin’s mouth before he can catch it. his rough tone startles the two of you.

“oh hi baby, did you see my text? how was work?” you turrn to your boyfriend, smiling with red, glazed eyes. haechan’s eyes are red as well when he gives his greetings.

jaemin pauses, taking in the scene in front of him.

“hyuck go home.” he says with a straight face.

“?? let me hang with you guys for a bit we haven’t even finished this jo-“

a brown paper bag lands in his lap.

“lee donghyuck. get the fuck out of here.”

taking notice of jaemin’s angry expression, haechan decides that tonight is not the night for causing trouble. sure, jaemin can be scary, but he’s never seen him like this in their years of friendship.

haechan shrugs, plucking the joint out of your hand, ignoring your protests, and heads home with his order and the rest of the joint.

jaemin wordlessly goes to his room and you move to follow him, but he stops you.

“just wait for me here, gonna change.” the lack of petnames and his flat tone have you worried, but you stay put. you’re already pretty high, mind floating off, so you immediately sink back into the couch.

he comes back in a black tank top and matching sweats with a pipe in his hands.

“yaay, let’s smoke some more baby,” you wiggle closer to him as he sits down next to you. he still hasn’t said anything, but your mind doesn’t yet register anything super off. maybe he’s super tired? he takes a long hit from the pipe.

he hands you the pipe, lighting it for you as always as you take a deep inhale.

your eyes meet his, and his serious expression startles you. his eyes are piercing and his gaze darkens as he begins to speak.

“take a nice long hit, smoke some more.” you take another at his encouragement.

“gonna fuck it all out of you anyways.”

you sputter at your lover’s words, coughing as the smoke hits your throat harshly. you scan your boyfriend’s face for any sign of a joke. his face is completely neutral, aside from his dark gaze. he hands you a cup of water, helping you drink from it.

“are you mad, jaemin?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“am i mad?” jaemin repeats, slowly starting to feel his own high travel through his body.

he gently grips your chin, thumb pressing on your bottom lip. he peers into your eyes.

“coming home to another man in my apartment, on my couch, smoking my weed, with my baby? does that seem like something to be mad about?” jaemin questions, his eyes never leaving yours.

he slips his thumb into your mouth, feeling your tongue start to taste him.

“do i look mad, angel?”

you nod.

“yeah, i’m fucking mad. gonna make you forget that he even exists.”

his hand goes to the back of your neck, grabbing the hair at the base of your head. his face comes closer.

“gonna fuck every little bit of weed you shared with him out of you,” he spits out, lips meeting yours harshly. you moan at the feeling of his heated lips and firm grip pushing you into him.

jaemin is always collected. though fully capable and very often rough in bed, even in his harshest of days jaemin will still be whispering endless praise. you’d be lying if you denied that this side of jaemin flipped a switch in you that you didn’t know was there.

jaemin can tell, too. he knows all the signs, and he’s seeing them now. he knows how your eyes glaze in a way that’s just slightly different from the way they look when you’re high and the way your legs shift. he knows he’s got you.

“you seem to like the sound of that though, right?” he grabs your waist, firm grip bringing you to straddle him.

“can you feel how mad i am?” he presses you into him, and you can feel how hard his cock is.

“i’m sorry baby, n-never want to make you mad,” you start to explain. jaemin tightens his hold on your waist and presses himself harder into you, grinding against your clothed core.

“how can i make you feel better? i can do whatever,” you ask, worried at his silence.

you want to make things right, but you are also so incredibly turned on right now, heart racing with both anxiety and excitement.

he pushes you up and off of him and your heart drops at the thought of rejection. was he that upset with you?

“show me how much you want me,” he says, pulling at the waistbands of your sweats and undies while shoving his own down.

you scramble to slide off your pants, drooling as his raging member comes into sight. you sink down to get a taste, but he grabs your wrist to tug you back up.

“not like that. need you to ride me, baby.”

you gaze up at him, lips parted in surprise, but nonetheless comply. you are eager to position yourself over him as he guides himself into you.

“oh fuck.” he bites his lip as you envelop him completely. the stretch is a lot for you but with how wet you are he bottoms out in no time.

you start to move, moving back and forth over him. you start to moan at how deep he reaches, but you are a little less coordinated from how high you are and its apparent in your movements. you slow down a bit as another wave of your high hits you, and jaemin loses patience.

“looks like i have to do it myself.”

jaemin lifts you up as he pulls out of you.

“on all fours, right now baby.”

you do as he says, jaemin pulling you tight against him. normal jaemin would tease a bit before entering, but you gasp as he immediately slides back into you, hand pressing down on your lower back to arch you into him.

“oh fuck jaem, so fucking big,” you moan, eyes fluttering to the back of your head.

“you can take it,” he growls as he starts moving his hips. he immediately starts pounding into you, his dick feeling the rippling of your warmth all over.

his hands grip your hips tight enough that you know it’s gonna leave marks, and everything combined with the high is making your head spin.

“jaemin, j-jaem,” you moan, and your cries of his name make him grip onto you even tighter, his balls slapping at your clit as you get closer and closer to your peak.

jaemin takes notice, and as high as he is, pulls out and flips you over. your hole clenches around nothing as you start to complain.

“no baby, why do you get to cum? lemme see that pretty face,” he inserts two fingers into you and rubs circles into your clit. your face scrunches as he brings you right back up to the edge, moaning out at the skillful maneuver of his fingers.

“fuck jaemin, i’m gonna cum-” you start to say, and he rips his fingers away from your cunt. before you can even protest, he immediately slides his dick back into you, pistoning again into you.

the stimulation is too much for you, having orgasms denied only to for another onslaught of pleasure to immediately hit you. he presses his hand into your lower stomach.

“feel that baby? feel how this pussy was made for me and only me?” the feeling of him reaching so deeply into you has you seeing stars.

“could your little hyuckie do this? fuck you good like this? fuck the high right out of you?”

his words register, but you don’t even know if you’re high anymore. you just know you feel an overwhelming sensation all over your body. his thrusts get you closer and closer until a harsh, deep stroke of his dick has you crying out, cumming all over him.

“fuck, baby you’re gripping onto me, i’m the only one this pussy wants, right?” he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, angry hips still going strong. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as tears start to fall.

“jaemin, i o-only want you, no one else could ever make me feel like this, i’m all yours baby,” you’re rambling, but your words give him the release he needs. the feeling of you pulsing around him and your reassurances in his ear are too much, and his hips speed up until cums inside with a strangled groan.

he’s fully moaning, still fucking into you when tears start to form in his eyes too. his eyes shut tight at the sting as he makes himself keep going, entirely lost in the feeling of you even after cumming.

with his release crumbles any anger, leaving jaemin to face himself and face you with everything he’s been feeling.

“i’m sorry, __. i dont want to ever treat you badly baby, i-i want to make you feel happy and free to do whatever you want.” he opens his eyes to meet yours.

“but i’ve never felt like this before, this sour feeling in my gut at the thought of hyuck even thinking about you, the feeling of wanting to keep everyone else away from you.” jaemin chokes out through strained groans and sobs as he feels his own legs start to ache from overstimulation.

your heart aches as you see unshed tears from your boyfriend’s eyes. he’s never showed such desperate emotion before, and it only serves to reinforce the notion that he’s the love of your life. what man has ever cried from the sheer love he has for you?

you pull him to you tighter, nails scraping at his shoulder blades as you try to get out your own confessions of love.

“i love you jaemin, i’m yours, and you’re all mine, i-i’ve never loved anyone as much as you and i never will.”

jaemin’s thrusts slow down as he softens inside of you, unable to continue any longer. your tense legs start to relax, twitching from the amount of pleasure you’ve experienced and the come down of your high.

“you mean it baby? you’re mine forever, right? angel?” jaemin murmurs into your neck. you stroke the back of his neck as he holds you tight.

“yes, jaemin. i’m yours.” you give a final squeeze as your eyes start to close.

“there’s no one in the world for me but you,” he whispers into your neck, and you fall asleep listening to sweet nothings leaving your boyfriend’s mouth.

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you wake up the next day incredibly sore, but cleaned up and in one of jaemin’s hoodies. your boyfriend’s arms are wrapped tight around you.

he’s already looking at you with sleepy eyes, lips pulling into a lazy smile when your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“good morning, angel.” he leans in for a deep kiss.

“hi, jaem, are you feeling better?” you ask, remembering his emotional state the night before. you slither your arms around his bare torso, burying your face into his chest.

“yes, so much better. i’m sorry, i know it was a lot. i was navigating a lot of feelings for the first time and i took it out on you. i was never mad at you, just the people- well person, around you,” he buries his face into the top of your head.

“jaemin, you told me before i never have to apologize for being too much, and the same goes for you. they are just friends and nothing more. i love you, and only you. not hyuck or anyone else. i want us to navigate our feelings together.”

he lets out a relieved sigh and hums. “thank you baby, didn’t realize how much reassurance i needed until this all happened.”

your heart swoons at him sharing his most vulnerable side. “you give me all the reassurance in the world, it wouldn’t hurt for you to ask for a little more.”

jaemin is quiet for a second. he pulls back to meet your eyes.

“then i’ll start now. can you please, please change hyuck’s contact name and picture,” he asks earnestly, sentence ending in a slightly whiny tone.

“yes, yes. anything else?” you laugh at how cute he’s being, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“nope, maybe later. just wanna cuddle with my baby now,” he replies, already feeling more relieved that you love him regardless of his selfish desires and jealousy.

this spoiled side of your always selfless boyfriend gives you even more reason to love him. the two of you drift back to sleep, feeling better than ever about your love, all sour fading into sweet.

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if you made it this far, thank you SO MUCH for reading, i hope you liked it :) idk if it'll live up to strawb cough but i am glad i was able to make a pt 2 as my 2nd ever fic. feedback and shares are very appreciated! thank you again for all the love for my works &lt;3 happy holidays!

-coco

#nct smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #stoner!nct #coco writes