#looks like visitors were touching the fabric | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

comfortless · 4 months

Text

This Time Around

König + fem! house sprite reader

content/warnings: reader wears dresses, König is soft and lonely, pining, comfort & fluff.

notes: @deltrese put the thought of König inheriting a little dollhouse from his grandmother in my head whilst i was watching Arrietty and… yknow. likely not anyones cup of tea but the idea was too cute to not write out eheh. not proofread, apologies! wc: 8.5k.

She survives on drops of honey, dew trickling from the asters springing up along the brick skirt wrapped around the lower level of the house, sips of canned soup and crumbs of bread when he forgets to clean up after a dinner prepared far too late into the night. He’s far from a messy man; he keeps his house in lovely shape, but he’s weary, more tired than any of the mice undergoing torpor she’s crossed paths with in the attic.

In her own way, she’s grown fond of this giant. Not fond enough to reveal herself in full, but she’s polite enough to sweep his crumbs from the table after he’s gone to bed, spend a day patching up an old shirt of his with a tiny thorn and scraps of thread if she notes a tear in the fabric of some ugly, dark thing he wears. She’s always amazed when he notices her busywork, too. The way he will hold the shirt in front of his face with a boyish grin after taking notice of how skillfully it’s been repaired, the way he calls out, “Danke freunden!” in that soft tone of voice that reminds her of a breeze passing through a windchime.

She knows that he doesn’t truly think that anyone else is here at all; that’s just how humans were— silly things. Something strange happens and they’ll try any way that they can to rationalize it or personify whatever may have caused it. König looked the part of a rational man, but her heart seems to swell when he gives away just how superstitious he truly is.

He’s ritualistic in some ways; covers his mouth when he yawns as though fearing that the Devil himself will come scurrying out of his windpipe, the wind chimes he has hanging up on his front porch, even knocking on the wood of the dining room table as he passes through lost in thought about something. She might be, too, because she always whispers her wishes of good favor to him when she knows he’s heading off on some grand adventure in the world outside.

She likes that she can make sure he feels less alone.

The man never has any visitors, and more often than not, he’s away. She likes to imagine he visits beautiful places, climbs mountains she will never in her lifetime see the peaks of, runs his calloused hands over the sharp edges of leaves and plucks dandelions puffed with seeds to blow wishes into. She pictures him having sweet, doting friends, all smiles when he’s around. Though, she is almost certain that the reality is nothing of the sort.

She’s seen him come home with fresh wounds, blood seeping through gauze haphazardly wrapped around his side. She’s seen the look in his eye when he stares blankly at the lifeless wall for what feels like hours, breathing out long sighs as his fingers curl and loosen in repetition at his sides. Regrettably, she’s fretted over the sight of tears welling in his eyes to the extent that she’s almost dared to come out of hiding, to console him just a little.

He’s hurting.

She’s alone too, here. There are others like her, of course. Groups of them cluster in lived-in homes chattering all throughout the night, getting into any mischief their tiny hands can fall upon to prepare. Often times, when a little sprite such as herself chooses a place, the others come flocking, too— making merry, stealing from their humans in ways hardly worthy of a second glance and starting colonies in the rafters, far out of sight.

But no one else will touch this place.

The house is a beautiful thing, meant for a family. There were so many rooms that she had yet to even explore herself. Not a pet in sight to chase after her and swallow her whole. The floors are soft carpet she often beds down in on nights she can feel he won’t be returning, plush and soft and so unused to human traffic. She loves it here, even if her kind do not. She might even understand why, too. It’s so melancholic, haunted by this miserable giant with heavy footfalls and tears perpetually unshed, held back by the grace of quivering hands in a body with too many scars.

She’s tried to count them before, once, whilst he was changing in his room. She wasn’t trying to steal a glimpse of his body, no, she only wanted to see what stories he was hiding, written on flesh. Perched on a bookshelf, she watched the giant as he pulled his shirt over his head, some tight, black cloth that didn’t look cozy at all. He had a cut running from his navel to his chest, a few penny sized keloids along his ribcage. The giant’s body was pale, as though he had never at all caught the eye of the sun, the only thing making him look still-alive and healthy were the layers of muscle across the chest, bunching down to his abdomen.

A pretty sight, undoubtedly for women similar in stature to him, but to her she sees only his fluttering pulse in the vein along his neck, the shaking of hands too large, and those horribly sad eyes that shatter her heart with only a glimpse.

She had nearly been caught then, with her palm splayed out over her chest in open awe and sympathy for this poor, cursed beast. His gaze had snapped over to the appeal of small movement on the shelf only to find nothing at all; she had tucked herself behind a copy of a Ungeduld des Herzens.

That was two months ago.

He had left the following morning, a black duffel bag thrown over his shoulder as he meticulously walked through the home shutting off lights and closing doors. Except… he left two lights on this time; the kitchen and his bedroom were cast in a white glow. She thought, assuredly that the artificial suns in their glass casings will burn out by the time that he returns. She also realized how strange it is that he would do such a thing at all. The man was prone to his habits, and it welled her up with dread to think that perhaps the book hadn’t entirely concealed her shape, that he had seen her peeking out between old pages covered in thin layers of dust.

She occupied her time scrounging around for anything that may have suggested his cerulean eyes had fallen upon her, When a human catches sight, it’s best to leave as though a house sprite had never been there at all; she certainly didn’t care for uprooting from this cozy, quiet life in the presence of a man that she harbored a fluttering, sympathetic heart for.

To her relief, she found nothing of note.

— — —

It was rare for him to be gone this long. She’s lost track of the days after a quaint seventy-three. A decent meal is harder to come by when he isn’t accidentally feeding her; the cabinets and pantry are shut, and there’s absolutely no hope of her small hands prying open the big portal leading to a perpetual winter that humans referred to as a refrigerator. Dew drops, wild strawberries and blackberries get tiresome after a while, and sneaking outside is dangerous, anyway. The birds don’t think her anything more than a bug, something simple to descend upon and scoop into a hungry beak.

She gathers up a thin piece of thread and, after tossing it into the air an innumerable amount of times only to have it land in a heap at her feet, she finally manages to hook it onto one of the knobs of a cabinet where she knows he keeps brightly colored packages of store bought cookies.

Those were for rougher days, always in date because god knows the man probably had never had a day that wasn’t somewhat harrowing. She’s seen him drink jåger and munch cookies while watching the television late into the night more times than she can count.

She pulls the thread tight and takes steps backwards to fling the cabinet door wide open. It takes a lot of effort from her small size, but she prides herself on managing even without a cluster of other sprites to help her along. Her stomach rumbles when the package comes into view and she readily climbs into the cabinet, up a few cans and boxes to reach the second shelf.

The package is opened with careful precision. She’s diligent at emulating the rips and tears she’s seen on similar ones to make it look like an accident occurred on some storage room shelf. Her heart swells in utter delight as the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon wafts up her nostrils, her mouth watering by the time she pulls one of the baked goods free from its confinement as she seats herself on the thin wooden board of the shelf with the treat in her lap.

It’s when her lips part and she lowers her head to take a bite that her ears prick to the sound of the front door opening. She missed the sounds of the turning lock, likely whilst fussing with the plastic and now… now it’s simply too late for her to haul off her spoils, shimmy down back to the linoleum floor, manage to unthread her makeshift cabinet-door-opener and shut it, leave it as though it had never been touched.

She’s never made a grave error like this. There have been close calls, certainly, but never one that set her off with the alarm of certainty that she would be discovered.

The lock clicks back into place, and there’s the sound of heavy boots being dropped to the floor before soft footfalls could be heard against the plush carpet.

… Headed straight in her direction.

Don’t come in the kitchen. Do not come in in the kitchen!

She finds herself in a tossup between petrified by her own fear and utterly entranced by the idea of being caught. Finally, after years of watching her giant from shadows and covered perches. The idea that he might crush her like a bug or capture her to marvel at like a pet crosses her mind, certainly, but a part of her wants to believe that her fondness for him wouldn’t be entirely unreciprocated.

From her perch, she can see the dark camos, the looming shadow as he trudges into the room only to stop, immediately, when he notices the little door flung wide open. He’s wearing that hood he wears often when he returns, a scrap of bleached fabric with eye holes torn out. She’s taken to stitching it more times than she can count, breathing in the scent of sweat, of strange lingering smoke as she works to fix the threading along the eyeholes. It’s difficult to make out his expression like this, but his blue eyes dart from the open cupboard to the rest of the room before landing back there.

He grunts out a noise of confusion, and she can almost hear his thoughts. He wouldn’t have left it open. The lights had been intentionally left on. That was a sign she had foolishly overlooked.

He takes careful steps toward her, so close now that only the fabric of his tight-fitting trousers filled her view. To her horror, her amazement, his knees bend and he kneels down slowly. This wasn’t the way that things should have went, she should have been more cautious. The hood comes into view all too quickly. Blue eyes widen as they land on her with that big cookie still in her lap.

“Hallo, little one.”

Ohgodohgodohgod.

He’s speaking directly to her. He sees her. He’s not afraid, yet her heart is burning with the icy touch of pure dread.

She clutcheds the pastry tight to her chest, lips pressed into a thin line as she takes a tentative step back into the shadow of the cupboard. So tense, so uncertain. She didn’t want to leave, silently willing him to close his eyes, turn away, forget about the tiny thing he happened upon stealing his food.

Instead, he stares down at her as though he had just found a will to keep living, a reason to stick around despite his bloodied wardrobe and the ever-present loneliness.

“Kleine engel… you are safe, please don’t look at me like that…”

He’s so much kinder than she had ever anticipated, his heart laid bare between the red rings of flesh lining his eyes. Her giant is nothing but gentle, cooing at her in such a quiet voice as though she were a wounded baby bird. Those eyes were filled to the brim with such wonder and hope that she couldn’t turn away now even if he was some rotten carnivorous animal.

“Please don’t look at me.”

The words fall from her lips despite her defenses lowering, shoulders relaxing and her eyes filling with that same look of hope he held.

It’s strange, how someone so massive doesn’t seem to send her scurrying for the hills. He’s huge, but that tenderness in his eyes that makes her feel comforted, reminds her of the gentle lull of streams and the sky filled with puffy clouds like castles in mid-morning.

“Ach… But you are so…”

Tiny, strange, a myriad of words hanging on his tongue, and she feels every one of them with each flutter of her pulse.

“… so pretty. Kleine puppe.”

She drops the cookie at that and it falls to the floor of the shelf with a soft thud that makes her jump in place.

The other sprites have their stories. It’s nice to sit and listen from the comfort of a canopy of grass when another passes through. They speak of the humans that they’ve encountered just as they speak of beasts, keen-eyed cats with sharp claws bared ready to feast upon those like herself. Dangerous things not meant to be associated with. Not one of them has ever mentioned encountering one that looks at them like… this, as though they were something breathtaking, something to be protected.

He huffs out a laugh at her shocked expression, his fingers drumming upon his knees as he watches her.

“I am not a ‘puppe’.”

“A fairy, then?”

She sighs, heavy and exasperated as she sorts out her dress and bends down to retrieve her meal. A pretty thing she had sewn herself from a vintage napkin, blue blossoms and thin lace.

“Are you going… to tell anyone?”

Her giant shakes his head with a laugh, and of course he does— who would he tell?

“I will keep you a secret, puppe.”

“Good, or I’ll curse you!” She warns, trying to puff her chest to seem bigger, more intimidating. She’s too cute to seem anything more than a frightened bunny, and his eyes are swimming in mirth at the sight of her. He’s like a giant child, finding out the fairytales in his books were true all along, only… not the ones about boiling folks like him down to bones to teach a lesson, just the ones where true love and sweet princesses existed.

He asks her a million things in rapid succession then— where she came from, how long she’s been here, what she’s doing, why she never came out before, how she can even exist. They make her head swim and she doesn’t answer a single one. He makes no move to touch her, doesn’t move any more than his nervous fingers and his beautiful eyes. They crease at the outer corners with each wide smile he undoubtedly has beneath that hood and her heart stutters each time like the flapping of little bird wings desperately seeking safe wind to coast in a storm.

She decides that she likes him as she brings herself to sit on the edge of the shelf, nibbling at her cookie whilst he tells her his name, that he works as a soldier— a colonel, sounding prideful despite the fact she has no clue just what that entails. He speaks to her in an energetic whisper, drops his shoulders and lowers himself further as though trying to appear her size, despite the vast disparity between their statures.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” König asks her suddenly, glancing over his shoulder as he looks out towards the den with a pinched brow. It was almost as though he expected a castle fit for her to appear from thin air, white gates and a shimmer of fairy dust surrounding it all.

“The floor is soft… sometimes between the sofa cushions, too. You’ve nearly sat on me before.”

“Nein. That will not do.”

He stands to his feet before she can protest and leaves the room. A part of her still teeters on the edge of running off, escaping before they became too familiar, and yet a more impulsive part wills her to wait as she hears the creak of floorboards beneath his feet whilst his footfalls ascend up into the attic.

She pictures the mice scurrying away in fright, just as she should, while she kicks her feet and waits patiently. The taste of cinnamon and sugar remains on her tongue as she places the remnants of the cookie aside and licks her fingers clean of sweet dust.

König returns a few moments later, a large box cradled in his arms.

“Close your eyes, puppe.”

It doesn’t make sense for her to leave herself vulnerable so soon after their impromptu meeting, and she doesn’t want to, but she does as he asks anyhow with a soft smile on her tiny face. Feels her chest pool with a mixture of excitement and fear as she hears him shuffling about the kitchen, the thump of something heavy being placed on the counter encourages her to flinch. She can hear small objects being set down carefully, the water running from the tap for a moment before the sound of something soft meeting wood fills her ears. It all quiets after a moment and she feels a gentle nudge at her side.

Her eyelids flutter open to see König’s finger gently pressed against her waist, his blue eyes beneath the dark hood fill her vision entirely. He’s so close, too close. As if sensing her apprehension, he raises his head back to look down at her instead.

“It is alright. I have a gift for you.”

König nudges her once more before she realizes that he’s inviting her to climb onto his massive hand. Her breath catches as she glances from the calloused flesh to his eyes and back.

Her kin would scold her severely if they were here, tell her she’s gone too far that there’s no way she will ever come back from this if she accepts. She stinks of human already. That’s how she justifies the way she climbs into his palm with her hands folded into the lap of her dress. His other hand curves around her, not touching, but hovering closely enough to keep her in place as he slowly rises to his full height and carries her over to the counter where he immediately allows her to clamber off before dropping his hands to his sides again.

The sight she’s met with dissolves any lingering fear she had harbored against him.

On the counter sits a wooden dollhouse, painted a lovely shade of blue, the roof a quiet shade of gray. It’s a stately thing, speaking of yesteryear’s Victorian styled homes with its vaulted roof, even a small turret beside the upstairs balcony. Expertly crafted and far too beautiful, perhaps even prettier than König’s empty home. Her eyes are welling with tears as she slowly ascends the three sturdy steps to the front door.

“You like?”

She can’t bring herself to respond immediately. She’s too caught up in this, opening the door with a gentle pull as she wanders into the house. It’s furnished in a hurry, some of the furniture misplaced, but… everything is here, as it would be in a normal, human home. A couch that seemed almost tailored for her size sits beside a little rattan shelf, a small table before it, a little hearth, a full kitchen and upstairs she finds a bedroom complete with a canopy bed. The curtains hanging off of it are blue like the outside, like the floral wallpaper adorning the dollhouse. She tests the bed with a gentle hand, marveling at how soft it was, how the sheets bunch beneath her palm.

Then, she approaches the window in admiration of all of the small details, little etchings of plant life carefully scrawled along the wood. The lock even clicks open as she pushes the little sheet of plastic framed by white to rise.

“It’s perfect,” she chirps out to her giant. “It’s so beautiful…”

“Oma gave it to me when I was a boy.” König’s reply sounds bittersweet, but his eyes are shimmering, as though the fact he had made this small woman so happy had been the height of his year, perhaps even an entire decade of his life. She’s seen him quietly weep to himself long into the night, only a breadth away from him as she tucks herself further into couch. He’s seemed gentle, less of a titan and more battered then, but he’s never seemed this sweet. “And now I am giving it to you.”

— — —

Sleeping in a bed is different. It’s quiet and soft with no worries of getting crushed by a heavy boot or threats of having a presence too large finding out about her existence. Those things do absolutely nothing to lull her to comfort as a dull the throbbing in her chest blossoms and continues all throughout the night ceaselessly. She tucks the blanket a little tighter around herself as she tosses and turns on the small mattress.

Mornings are different now, too. When König wakes, he taps at her front door to pull her from her restless dreaming. He has a ritual, expecting her to come out in one of the dresses from the dollhouse’s wardrobe rather than her scrapped clothing with a small mug and a plate in hand. He gives her a drop or two of coffee and food from whatever breakfast he’s pieced together. Sometimes it’s a cookie from the cabinet. She feels like a contented housepet these days as he leans over the counter to speak to her.

It’s painful how attentive König is. His eyes don’t leave her when she speaks and he consistently asks her if she needs anything, if there is anything that he could do to make her feel more comfortable as if he hasn’t already provided her with refuge and companionship, things she hadn’t even realized she had been longing for. As if he hasn’t already made her feel things for a human that no sprite should! Really, the way he loiters about with the stupid grin plastered across his face while she stumbles out of her abode to greet him does nothing to make the flutter in her chest feel warranted. It’s there no matter how much she turns her head away from him and barks out her warnings of curses and other mischief; gnaws at her every time she hears his laugh or he tells her yet another stupid story of things she knows nothing of.

She listens, anyway, utterly mesmerized when he speaks of rescuing hostages or tearing through men like a rampaging bull. He explains to her what guns are, shows her and lets her run her tiny hands over polished metal. She should think him violent and obscene, but the way he looks at her as though she’s all he has stifles any judgements before they can leave her lips.

It quickly froths to a point that she realizes she’s come down with a terrible crush. She worries for him after hearing his tales each time he steps foot out of the house on another deployment, rushes from whichever corner she’s occupied with hurried little steps to greet him. She lets him carry her around on his shoulder sometimes, even leans over his arm when it’s stationed on the counter just to feel him near.

She knows better, which is why she finds herself skittering through tall grass to seek another of her kind. Hoping for a reminder that she’s making too many mistakes. The trip is a short walk for a human, but takes her from morning to sunset to reach her destination, a narrow alder tree full of knotholes with sprigs of dandelion surrounding it.

“You what?!” Bellis exclaims, the very second she’s managed to spill her story and slump against a ruggedly crafted table within the trunk of the tree. Bellis’ voice was like the chirping of little nightingales, and she looks cute when she’s surprised— the other sprite’s brown eyes twinkle in such a way that it makes her think of stars falling into pools of honey.

“Yes… we spoke,” she huffs, curling her arms around her waist, her face feeling hot and her eyes dreamy. Bellis knows the look well enough, the other sprite has it every time she locks eyes with her wife, another sprite far too pretty. It’s affection, one that she graciously spares her friend from commenting on.

“It’s alright, you know… just be safe.”

“Of course…”

She anticipated some long-winded lecture of dangers, to be beaten by words targeting her own selfish wants.

Instead, Bellis only offers comfort and the hope that her feelings are not a lost cause.

“You aren’t the only one who has ended up falling for their human, you know?”

“I thought we were supposed to avoid them, not dream of them.”

Bellis giggles and drapes an arm over her shoulder as she prattles on about sprites and glamours that could make them bigger. She tells her of a couple only a weeks travels away, a male sprite and a human woman, how he feasts upon wild berries and golden herbs under each new moon to keep himself human-sized day and night for the woman that he loves. Bellis reminds her that the other sprites frown upon it out of fear for their own safety, but she also reminds her that she’s damned to live a life far longer than the object of her affection, anyhow, and that if he already knows of her existence then what’s the harm in it?

Those words fill her with fantasies about a happy life, where she can hold her giant properly in an embrace, rather than wrapping her arms around his thumb to satiate the burning affection running rampant through her.

They also damn her to heartbreak when König returns.

He comes home after two short weeks this time, rather than months and she rushes to greet him as always. König bends down on a knee, scoops her up in his palm and brings her over to the sofa where he sets her on the opposite end from where he sits.

“How was your trip?” She asks him sweetly as she plops down onto the pillowy cushion below, fidgeting with the hem of her dress in excitement. She knows what she knows now, and she truly could not wait to tell him, to give life to the newfound feelings in her chest. She wonders what König would say; would he take her on dates? Would he dance across the room with her as she’s seen sprites in the throes of courtship do before? Would he kiss her? The thought makes her feel warm again.

König, on the other hand seems perfectly composed and lost in thought. His hands are fidgeting, but this time, not with themselves. He’s holding a device she doesn’t recognize, tapping at the little screen with the same look in his eyes that she reserves solely for him.

“It was fine.” He mumbles, and for the first time he doesn’t elaborate. She looks forward to his stories. Time away from him is difficult now. It passes slowly without their morning chatter, without his stories, without the films she watches with him late into the night. He’s taught her to use the remote, sure, but it’s not the same without him towering at her side.

“What is that?”

“A phone.”

She listens intently when he explains what this strange object is, even shows her the bright screen and lets her tap her hand against it a few times as she looks at the shifting colors with wide eyes.

“I visited a friend while you were away.”

He rests his phone in his lap and looks down at her then, his interest piqued.

“There are more like you?”

“Yes, lots.” She giggles. She tells him of Bellis who lives in the alder with her wife, of how her dark hair curls and her voice sounds like the chirping of birds. König pays rapt attention as she speaks, belays his curiosity of the prospect of there being many more like his little housemate with a tilt of his head.

“I made a friend while I was away.” He gestures toward his phone with a smirk. “Pretty, like you, but bigger.”

König explains to her what a ‘dating app’ is with a look of pure glee on his face. She’s never seen him so happy, not even when he first met her. It’s not a concept she can wrap her head around, her kind just happen upon one another, sing and dance and feast together until love blooms between them. There’s no need for little, lighted rectangles when it came to courtship.

“She’s coming to visit soon.” He pauses as his phone lights up again, his eyes scanning over the message on screen as a grin spreads over his thin lips. “I will have to hide you.”

Her face scrunches in disdain at that as she rises to her feet to pad a bit closer to the hill of his thigh, spread over into the next seat. She places her palms against the rough fabric of his pants, looking up at him with an expression of sheer bewilderment.

“But I don’t wanna hide anymore — we are friends.”

The man’s smile falters a bit then, as he nods his head in agreement.

“Ja… but she will be more.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I am taking her on a date.”

König seems so happy, and yet she feels as if she’s being bitten by a viper. All of that talk with Bellis was for naught, because the human man that’s won her heart by telling her of his creature comforts, of war and sharing his meals with her has left her to have his heart stolen away by another.

Despite the way it hurts, she doesn’t find herself upset with him. He isn’t like her, and he’s been alone for far too long. She reminds herself that König deserves to be happy, especially after all that he’s done for her.

She only lets herself cry when he brings her back to the dollhouse and she sinks into the sheets of her bed.

The following morning comes and she wakes feeling refreshed before König even begins his tapping. She bathes in the little plastic tub filled with lukewarm water König had graciously fetched for her the night before from the faucet, clothes herself in one of the many doll dresses found in the little wooden wardrobe of her home. Dainty florals like the wallpaper in the little wooden house, only this time pink rather than blue.

When König taps at her door, she’s already prepared with her tiny mug and plate in hand, a smile on her face.

“Guten morgen, puppe.” He greets her with a lazy grin as he opens his palm to take her dainty kitchenware. His yawn is cute when he turns away to begin filling the liner of the well with coffee grounds. She follows after him across the countertop with hurried steps to match his vast strides.

As he prepares their breakfast, they speak endlessly of dreams, sweet syrupy things. He tells her he dreams of flowers sometimes, like the ones on her dress, and she tells him she dreams of exploring the world outside with him.

“I will carry you to the top of a mountain one day, little one.” König says sweetly as they both sip at their coffee. He doesn’t prepare it black as often anymore, often adding sugar and milk simply because he knows that she likes it better that way.

She tells him she doesn’t need to see the tops of mountains, because she already gets a perfect view when he carries her.

— — —

“I’ll be back later.”

König is dressed strangely, she notes as she watches him from the arm of the couch. He’s dressed casually, more so than she had ever seen him, which is a large statement considering the man normally roamed around his abode in nothing more than a pair of black sweatpants. Tonight, however, he’s chosen a black t-shirt with some text scrawled across it that she can’t quite read and tough denim. It’s an odd sight when she’s grown so accustomed to the bare flesh of his scarred torso and gaudy military camos unsuited for cozy, indoor wear.

The giant crouches to lace up his boots with one hand while the other holds his phone. There’s that smile on his face again, but she easily takes notice of the way his hand shakes with it in his grip. He’s nervous, but never so with her.

It’s strange that he’s more comfortable with a little creature in his home than he is with his own kind.

“Oh… your date,” she murmurs, standing up to her full height, despite how small it may be.

“Ja, my date.”

“Can we watch another movie when you get back?”

König nods his head as he approaches the couch, slipping his phone back into his pocket before gently stroking the top of her head as though she were just a small kitten.

She doesn’t like the fact that he doesn’t see her as anything more than a cute pet any longer. Sprites didn’t keep track of their ages as humans do, celebrating the day they were born into the world with silly parties and gifts, but she would hazard to guess she’s at least a century older, maybe more. This wasn’t her first home, only, in the last she had watched that family wither away to an endless rest.

König was different; she wanted him to stay, thrive, live forever here with her. A selfish, silly wish.

When she leans into his touch, she thinks of the couple Bellis spoke of— a sprite and a human woman. It could be the same for she and König, if only he saw her for what she truly was, what she was capable of being.

“Ja, little one. As many as you like.”

She watches as the door closes behind him with her heart in her throat.

König does not keep her waiting long. If she had to hazard any sort of guess, she would assume that the moon hanging in the sky had barely moved by the time he returns. She hadn’t even left the couch, lying on her back staring up at the ceiling when the front door is flung open.

If it were possible for him to somehow look more pitiable, he does in that moment as he kicks off his boots and rests his phone and keys on the table by the door. She knows without a word exchanged that she should not ask him what’s happened. The broad shoulders were slumped, his face somehow paler. In that moment, her giant seemed even smaller than her.

She sits up and presses the buttons on the remote with her entire hand as König had shown her how to do, loading up some Austrian film he had told her was his favorite when he was just a boy. He offers her a lazy smile as he carefully places himself a respectful distance away and leans back into the couch. The movie plays while she occasionally speaks up to ask him what certain words mean, and he patiently teaches her, seeming thankful for the distraction she eagerly provides.

She doesn’t wake in her small house, in her tiny bed, this time, instead pressed against his thigh with his hand draped over her in the world’s heaviest blanket. When she raises her head up to look at him, peacefully resting with his head tilted against the back of the couch, jaw slack and dark lashes fluttering she makes a firm decision.

The golden herbs and berries Bellis had mentioned were on the far side of the forest. A long, dangerous trek, especially for someone who didn’t know the way. Rousing a mouse to treat as a steed could work, but the urgency caused her to fret. She wanted to meet his gaze and not fear stumbling back with each exhale of his breath, to be strong and capable enough to make her giant somehow feel as safe as he made her feel. There was no time to befriend a mouse and train it proper, not if she intended to do this before the new moon came and went.

She slips from beneath König’s limp palm, off of the sofa and out the small gap in the window to set off.

— — —

The early morning is alive with the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves and calls of strange animals a distance away when she makes it outdoors. She shields herself beneath a broad fallen leaf, hunkering down to soil any time anything soars or wanders too close for her liking. Morning dew chills her to her bones, and she has herself convinced that after all of this she will most certainly craft herself a coat, perhaps one made out of a sleeve from one of König’s old shirts. He would allow it, she’s certain. The thought of him even wasting a day away to help her fills her up with another warmth to carry on.

Her little dress is filthy before she even makes it out of the yard.

Tall grass quickly morphs into a forested trail, the trees so vast and tall, filled with the chattering and singing of others. She waves to some of them, turns her nose up at a few that beckon her to join their little communes hidden beneath layers of tree bark and moss. She spots a red fox chasing after another in the midst of play, they chitter and whine as they topple over one another before bounding off into the brush.

When the sun completes a lazy crawl high up into the sky, it’s rays of warmth beaming down on to the back of the leaf, warming her fingers as they curl over it to keep it in place, she knows she should stop and rest. Tucked away in the shade of a small mulberry bush, she shoos away a vibrantly colored caterpillar before cleaning off one of the berries with a handkerchief she finds in the pocket of her dress. A small lunch that simply leaves her wishing for König’s breakfasts instead, always warm and filled with moments of soft laughter.

She wonders what he’s spending his time doing now, almost feeling a pang of guilt for leaving him after what had assuredly been a terrible outing with a woman he had admired. Did he miss her? Was he thinking of her, too? Searching through his bookshelf and beneath his couch in an effort to find her? She hoped so.

Her journey ends when night finally comes about. The moon above is a mere sliver, but it’s enough to frame the clusters of goldenrod in a soft, white glow amidst a sea of inky darkness. She cheers in utter delight when she realizes she’s made it, that despite no map or guides her senses were keen enough to carry her on the right path. She carefully gathers a few clippings, dropping them into a neat pile before seeking out the strange berries Bellis had told her about. Her thoughts are flooded by the idea of how she and König will dance, how she will tell him in a voice as loud as his own that she’s fallen head over heels for him and that perhaps, he can even teach her to use one of his many weapons before they clamber onto the couch snug and warm to talk throughout a film.

Those thoughts keep her warm when she beds down in a nest of wild grasses.

The next night fills her with excitement. The sky is darker with the new moon hanging up above, only pinpricks of starlight break through the dark. She pictured herself human sized as she performs her little ritual, feasting on berries and swaying with a sprig of goldenrod in a little dance before she bites down into it to. There are other sprites here, doing the same. Some get bigger to move or for silly things such as being able to shop in human markets or taste meat for the first time. They sing and giggle just as she does, and she sees the face flush with love of the one she knew Bellis had spoken of. It lasts the entire night, and she’s far too excited to sleep or stay out when all is done.

She doesn’t know when she’ll change shape, not having thought to even ask, but the sight of the other sprites had solidified her belief that it would come to pass.

The way back feels far shorter than the way forward. She finds herself back in the yard just as the sky settles into mottled purples and orange and puffy white clouds. The smile on her face makes her cheeks hurt, and her chest and legs ache from exertion, but she treks on until she meets the brick foundation of the house. With and arm raised and a foot dig into the firm clay, she begins to climb up towards the window still left slightly ajar.

Only, she feels a warmth at her side that tosses her back into the grass steps away. It pulls her breath from her lungs and it takes a moment for her to force herself back up into a crouch and her vision to cease its swimming. She’s always found cats to be cute from a distance away, all soft fur and pleasant sounds. The one before her, however seems menacing, its claws are bared and its pupils blown as his mouth hangs open to scent. The orange of its fur is like fire, the yellow of irises like the sun itself.

This thing was going to kill her, she knew it before she even caught sight of the way claws had slashed through the side of her dirty dress leaving shallow gashes in her flesh.

The cat rears back, shifting on its haunches in preparation to pounce as she wails out König’s name in a near-silent prayer that he would come rescue her from this adorable little murderer.

The cat is caught in arms the size of trees mid-leap. It yowls for a moment before a hand gently begins to stroke the fiery fur behind its ears. Her giant coos to the little beast, and the vibration of a soft purr could be heard as she dusts herself off and stands.

“Are you alright, little one?”

His voice is sweet as he carefully sets the cat back into the grass and scoops her up instead. She looks pitiful— dirty, injured and panting as though she’s just escaped Hell itself. König’s expression grows horribly concerned before she can even catch her breath enough to respond.

“I’m okay,” she mumbles as she rests her weary head on the palm that feels more like rough stone than living flesh. “I was only gone for two nights, did you have to get a pet?”

König laughs at that, shaking his head as he takes her back inside the house with metered steps.

“Nein, I did not. He’s the neighbor’s.”

He shuts the door behind him, taking care to ensure the scruffy feline didn’t sneak inside.

“Let’s clean you up, hm?”

The man offers her a human bandage for the scrape along her waist before she wanders into the dollhouse to bathe, dress the wound and change into something less dirty.

After everything, she finds herself utterly exhausted. She tells König good night wishes, but her giant is hellbent on keeping her in his sight. After a close call like that, she doesn’t protest when he tells her they should sleep on the couch again instead. It’s safer, and after two days apart there’s little more that she wants than to be close to him, tucked under his palm eternally safe. König only gets through the start of a story before she’s fallen asleep curled against the side of his thigh. It doesn’t take long for the giant to follow suit, either. His soft snoring is present in her dreaming, a gentle sound accompanying the breeze of wind through a field of lavender where they sit hand-in-hand.

— — —

König does not wake her with gentle tapping the next morning. Instead, it’s a bark of surprise that jolts her from her sleeping. Her vision is blurry when her eyelids flutter. She can make out the view of the coffee table, the television beyond it, and somehow it feels wrong. She was accustomed to straining her neck to look up at things, yet seeing them now she doesn’t need to at all. In fact, it feels stranger when she notes her head is no longer resting on the cushion of the couch below, but on a broad shoulder layered in muscle instead.

König is staring at her as though he’s just encountered a ghoul. In fact, he’s trembling too. His reaction is enough to prompt her to shrink back, away from him and retreat to the arm of the couch. Only, she can’t fit the entirety of herself there as easily as she had many times before. Her legs are much too long, and making her ascent only brings her hands into view. She holds one to her face and marvels at it before her gaze trails down, down and she notices she’s nude. The little dress she had been wearing was no more than a tattered and torn mess on the couch beside König, who’s still gawking at her.

He turns his head away rigidly after a moment while she sits bewildered by her change in shape. The man returns after a beat with a large t-shirt and a pair of his boxers in hand, thrusting them towards her graciously as he keeps his face turned away. She can make out the red tint on his cheeks, the way his lips part only to slam shut when words fail him and she laughs full and giddy as she slips his clothing on and stands up to twirl about the room.

“It worked!”

Her voice sounds strange even to her own ears now. Shouting from her regular stature still resulted in a mere whisper, yet this… along with seeing all she can hear all. Just as he does, she sounds of rustling wind chimes.

She reaches for his hand to pull him along in her rhythmless swaying, and he obliges with a sigh and a shake of his head. König’s grinning, though. Even more so than when he wasted his time tapping away at the phone screen. He looks happier than she’s ever seen him as he clumsily shuffles with her.

“Little one… what did you do?”

He’s still a fair bit bigger than her, but she stands the height she feels as though she should. Her giant is still a giant no matter what silly magic she uses, but it’s fine, because he’s not looking at her as a tiny doll anymore, but in utter amazement instead. The way his pulse races and his pale cheeks burn crimson isn’t lost on her.

She explains to him just what the other sprite told her, tells him about the one she saw so in love with a human woman he did the same each month to keep himself more her size too. König halts her movement as he tugs her against him and pulls her into an embrace, the very thing she’s yearned for since the afternoon they began to speak. She knows he’s confused and entirely confused, but he bends to rest his chin on the crown of her head and squeezes her so tightly that she knows he’s grateful for this small miracle too.

She helps König prepare breakfast this time. Having watched him ready his coffee pot dozens of times by now, she knows how to operate the small, black machine. She prepared the toast too, with a gratuitous sweep of jam over each slice of the warm bread. König is still overly gentle with her, keeping his distance and not resting his hands on her unless it’s required or she prompts it. She does, often intertwine her fingers with his even as they eat, which earns her a shy smile and a gentle squeeze each time. Her giant isn’t nervous with her, their conversations are the same. He tells her that she’s pretty as often as before, cups a steady hand on her shoulder when she reaches out to embrace him after their meal.

She thinks ahead and leads König into the forest to gather a plethora of golden herb and berries to stuff into the winter box for the next time she will need to perform her little ritual, and he swears to her that he will stay up the entire night to watch over her then. The walk is so much shorter from her height now, but she doesn’t forget to tap at Bellis’ alder and flash the sprite a little smile and a wave when König has his back turned on the way back.

He still has his work, and she waits at home for him like a doting housewife. Only now, he returns with gifts. His closet is no longer dark green and black— there are patches of soft colors and whites between, floral fabric and lace, dainty things that seem comical amidst the tactical articles and denims she knows he’s scrubbed blood off of a few too many times.

They don’t share a bed, but they still cuddle against one another on the couch. Hand-in-hand as she’s always dreamt of. In fact, most nights it’s his bed that she sleeps in while he rests elsewhere, and he doesn’t mind it at all. He even tucks her in and presses a kiss to her cheek that makes her so giddy that she can’t find sleep until a half-hour afterwards before he flicks off the lamp and leaves her to her dreaming.

— — —

She’s better at keeping track of time after adjusting to a more domesticated life. König’s been out for fifty-four days, but she doesn’t have to miss him so much. He’s gifted her a phone, sends her letters with his stories scrawled out in black ink. The calls are frequent, and she finds she loves them most of all. They’re at odd hours often, and he always breathes out an apology for having woken her that pulls a giggle from her, because they both know she wouldn’t have preferred to wake any other way than from the sound of his voice.

“I miss you.”

He sounds tired when he says it, and she imagines that he is. Those weary looks from before they had ever even spoken weren’t unwarranted and she knows well enough now. His tales of his heroics were not all spoken to simply boast.

“I miss you too, König.”

He huffs out a laugh into the phone, and she imagines his smile reaching the bright eyes that she loves, twinkling in mirth.

“I should let you sleep.”

“No, it’s fine.” She pauses to chew on her lip, heart sailing up into her throat. “Will you be coming home soon?”

He grunts out his confirmation. “Tomorrow.”

“I wish to take you on a date then— a picnic, maybe. I can bake a cake.”

König falls silent for a moment, and her breathing halts entirely as she slumps back against the bed— his bed— feeling as though she were still just as small as before. Surely… she could not have misread all of those little looks, the warmth and his fluttering pulse she felt as she rested her head on his arm so many times before. She parts her lips to recant her statement, but there’s no need. The contented sigh she hears in response is all of an answer that she needs.

“Ja, please. I would be honored.”

#könig #konig #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #cod fanfiction #konig fanfiction #könig fanfiction

761 notes · View notes

quizzicalwriter · 6 months

Note

Could u please do a smut where Dallas and the reader are on a late night drive and they end up in the backseat and there’s some fingering leading up to it…thank you!

One of These Nights

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: A date at the river ends with discarded clothes and fogged windows.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Porn with very little plot. Fingering, oral, car sex - all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.3k

What had started as a normal trip to the river wound up being a supervision service Dallas reluctantly found himself holding for you, reluctantly being used loosely. Despite the frown he’d worn when you stripped yourself of your jacket and shoes, he couldn’t help but watch you in awe as you ran at a full sprint into the water. You’d beckoned him closer, calling to him from the water like a siren would an ill-fated sailor. He’d only managed to stave you off by waving his cigarette in front of his face with a crooked smile, earning him an exaggerated huff of air on your part.

God himself could’ve appeared to Dallas at that moment and still wouldn’t have succeeded in peeling his attention away from you. The way you laughed as you ran through the shallows of the river, kicking up water that’d splash back on you and the lip of the shore. The sun covered you, igniting your beauty in a magnitude Dallas hadn’t thought possible. Maybe Johnny was right, sunsets weren’t all too bad.

Before he knew it he’d smoked the entire cigarette, having completely lost himself in you without even having touched you. He tossed the still-smoldering bud to the rocks below, snubbing it out with the heel of his boot before pulling his shirt over his head. He could hear your whoop of cheered laughter from the waterbed, making him smile to himself as he kicked off his boots and jeans.

The water was pleasantly warm, surely having been baked by the summer sun early on in the day. Dallas found himself thankful for it as he waded toward you, returning your smile in fervor before leaping toward you, arms immediately encircling you to pull you underwater with him. Your arms encircled his under the murky depths, fingers subtly digging into the muscle along his forearms as his feet planted along the riverbed, pushing himself upright and above water with you in his arms, boisterous laughter falling from your lips in droves as you wiped the water from your face.

“Warn me next time!” You laughed out, eyes still squeezed shut as you brushed your soaked hair back from your face. His laughter settled in his chest, vibrating against your skin as he held you close. “No fun in that, doll.”

“Could’ve drowned!” You responded before he’d even had a moment to breathe, in jest of course, but the way your eyes peered up at him made him stifle laughter all the same. He’d always done the same thing each time you both found yourself at the river, framing his walk over to you as something calm before pulling you into deeper water to dunk you both, always ensuring you were held close to his body before doing so - but doing it nonetheless.

“Wouldn’t let you drown.” He responded incredulously, rolling his eyes as though your jest had offended him in some manner. “Have some faith in me, doll.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the way his New York accent would flare up in the funniest of ways whenever he found himself frustrated, faux or genuine, it still made itself apparent and you loved it. You tilted your head back, shifting ever so slightly in his hold to rest your back against his warm chest, encircling your arms over his as you looked up to him.

“You sound real northern whenever you talk like that.” You teased, smiling bright up at him, earning you another roll of his eyes as he playfully shoved your head back down with a muffled, “Shut up.”

His hands fumbled with the wet fabric of your dress, finding himself eternally thankful that you both chose an area along the river that rarely had any other visitors given how sheer your dress had gone. He could count the freckles along your shoulders, the tempo at which you breathed, and how your chest would press against the linen. He knew he’d have to give you his jacket when it came time to drop you back off at your place, but for now, he’d savor the look of you draped in translucent clothing.

You raised a hand to cover his, bringing it over your breast, the steady thrum of your heartbeat thumping against the pads of his fingertips as he looked down at you. You met his gaze, eyes focused on his lips and the beads of water that lingered there. He made the first move, hand kneading your breast as he leaned down to connect your lips to his. His thumb brushed over your hardened bud as he nipped at your bottom lip, only pulling away to spin you around to face him fully.

You rested your hands against his chest, savoring the warmth that pooled from his skin in comparison to the chilled water droplets that continued to cascade down both of your bodies. He wasted no time in reconnecting in a kiss, a soft hum resonating in his chest as your tongue moved with his. You’d hardly noticed one of his hands had moved between your thighs until you felt two of his fingers press against your clothed cunt, slowly moving in circular motions as he deepened the kiss.

Whatever words of protest lingered in your mind at the prospect of being touched in a place so public were immediately stunted the moment his fingers circled your clit, pulling a drawn-out moan from your chest that he all but swallowed in your kiss. You could feel his breathing quicken the longer he touched you, his hold on your body tightening, pulling you to be almost flush with his front as he slid his hand underneath your underwear.

Your warmth was enough to pull a grunt from him as he curled his middle and ring finger into you, thumb circling your clit as you pulled away from the kiss, burying your face in his chest as your hips rocked with the movement of his fingers. He rested his cheek against your hair, free arm looping around your back as he plunged his fingers deeper, brushing against your g-spot in the process.

“Dallas-“ You whined, having to rake your mind for any trace of a coherent thought as he hummed in response, not bothering to slow the tempo of his fingers. “Car, please-“

He let out a quiet laugh, nodding as he withdrew his fingers, doing his best to help you from the water with your wobbly legs and into the back of the T-Bird. The setting sun gave way to moonlight that hung heavy over the water, casting a pale hue on everything below it. Dallas followed you into the backseat, both of you laughing at the absurdity of clamoring into a car with soaked clothes.

Good thing you had no intention of staying dressed.

Dallas helped you remove your dress, hands smoothing up your still-damp skin as he lifted the fabric up and over your head, tossing it to the floorboard in haste to get back to what he really wanted to touch - you. You leaned back against the backseat, spreading your thighs before him as he situated himself between your legs, letting his hands trail up your bare thighs before resting against the hem of your underwear. You lifted your hips, silently begging him to remove them for you to which he quickly obliged, sliding the fabric down and off your legs before tossing them down to the floorboard as well.

“Gorgeous.” He whispered, eyes trailing over your bare form as his hands raked up your thighs, thumbs brushing along the soft flesh of your inner thighs. You could feel yourself clench around nothing, on the verge of insanity driven by your pure need to have him in any way he’d have you. He trailed the back of his fingers along your soaked folds, a smug smile upon his lips as he felt your arousal coat his skin. His eyes flickered up to yours, drinking in the pitiful look written across your face the longer he dragged out his teasing.

He pressed his thumb against your clit, slowly circling it as his other hand brushed up your stomach to hold your breast. Before you could beg him to do anything further he sunk between your legs, moving his hand to help lift your leg to drape it over his shoulder, eyes locked on you as he placed a kiss to your cunt. Your hips jutted up at the contact, inadvertently pushing yourself closer to his mouth. He only chuckled, bringing his other hand down from your breast to press against your lower stomach, holding you steady as he swirled his tongue around your clit.

A broken string of curses fell past your lips as you rolled your hips, riding his tongue as he continued to place open-mouthed kisses along your soaked cunt. Your hands found their way to his hair, tugging on the dark strands as your head fell back against the leather interior of the car. He shifted his body ever so slightly, lifting it enough to bring his hand forward to press his middle and ring finger back into your cunt, curling both to press against your g-spot as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You rode his fingers and tongue, eyes screwed shut from the combination of feelings soaring through your veins. Every so often you’d have to remind yourself to breathe, finding yourself more focused on the feeling of his tongue delving between your folds paired with the pressure of his hand against your lower stomach and how his fingers jutted up into your cunt. You were sure your juices had covered his lips and dripped onto his chin, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“I’m gonna cum-“ Were the only words you were able to whine as the feeling built to a fever pitch in your lower stomach, the words pulling a moan from Dallas, filling him with a renowned vigor as he pushed himself closer to you. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair as your hips jerked, cunt spasming against his tongue as he continued his movements through your orgasm.

He didn’t stop, even as your back arched from the leather and a broken-off moan tore its way from your throat. He looped his arms around your upper thighs, holding your cunt to his mouth until your hands pried at his forearms, wordlessly begging for a moment to breathe. As your chest heaved for breath he placed gentle kisses to your inner thighs, his hands rubbing soft circles along your hips.

Dallas waited until your breathing slowed to move, situating himself over top of you, murmuring hushed words of praise as he kissed along your throat and shoulder. You could only whine in reply, mind still muddled from your recent orgasm. He helped your thigh up, resting it against his hip before pushing his boxers down, kicking them off the rest of the way. He slid his tip along your slick folds, spreading your cum along his shaft before adjusting himself to push into you.

You were still sensitive, cunt twitching around his cock as he bottomed out within you. Your arms wrapped loosely around his neck, nails digging into the muscles along his back as he slowly rolled his hips. You tilted your head back, capturing his lips in a needy kiss as he grasped at your waist, each thrust knocking the wind from your lungs. As his tongue moved with yours his hand slunk between your bodies, fingers encircling your clit as he continued fucking you.

The taste of yourself on his tongue was enough to leave you clenching around him, hips cantering with each roll of his own, helping him to reach deeper within you as your legs tightened around his waist. The slick sound of him pushing into you echoed within the car, the only sound rivaling it being the moans that slipped free between your shared kisses.

You could feel that familiar coil tightening in your lower stomach, each thrust and swirl of his fingers around your clit pushing you closer to the edge. You pulled away from the kiss, letting your head fall back against the leather seat as you gave yourself over to the feeling. Dallas could feel your cunt fluttering around him as your second orgasm surged through you, the feeling pulling him to lean down against you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he chased his own.

As he fucked you through your orgasm your fingers threaded their way through his hair, moans tumbling past your lips and into the humid air that steadily fogged the windows of the car. With a broken grunt of your name, he flooded your cunt with his cum. He held himself there until his cock finished twitching, leaving him overly sensitive as he slowly pulled himself out, only to watch in awe as his cum spilled from you and onto the seats below.

“Fuck.” He gasped, voice nearly incomprehensible over his sharp intake of breath. You looked up at him, expression completely flushed and fucked-out. Your skin felt sticky, whether from the humidity or your shared fluids, you didn’t know, but the moonlight pouring in through the fogged windows cast you both in a hue that wouldn’t leave your mind for years if you could help it.

“Hey.” You nudged his thigh with your foot, soft laughter leaving you as you motioned to your still-wet dress on the floorboard. “Can’t take me home naked, Dal.”

He nodded, laughing himself as he leaned back onto his knees to grab your clothes, a slight grimace flashing across his features when he realized how soaked your clothes truly were.

“Can’t take you back soaked neither.” He huffed out, eyes flitting over to you. “You’ll stay at mine tonight. I’ll carry you inside wrapped up in my jacket if I have to.”

You couldn’t lie, the thought sounded much more intriguing than slinking back into your home dripping in river water. So you relented, not that you needed much persuasion in the first place. You’d explain to your folks where you were in the morning.

“Sounds good to me.”

A/N: I wrote half of this to Hozier and the other half to Lana - what that says about me I don’t know. Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy this, I haven’t written smut in a while, figured you guys deserve a lil treaty treat. As always, thank you for all the love and support you guys show my work! I appreciate it more than words can describe. You can find all my work over on AO3 as well under the user, “Unscriptural!” And if you’re wondering if I received your request, I most certainly did, I have about nine other writings I’m currently finishing up so it should be published soon!

405 notes · View notes

ne-videl · 4 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞

♡

yandere Ayato x fem reader

there's something wrong with your employer.

yandere, mentions of violence & kidnapping, stalker Ayato, non-consensual touching (not sexual, just our man being clingy), reader has a pretty low self-esteem, sfw this time I guess??, poor english

word count: ~2k

a/n: alright I decided to procrastinate and ignore my study, and what's a better way to do it than posting some more of my stuff?

p.s. лисичка солнце как ты меня находишь?? теперь мне стыдно за то что я все никак не могу дописать главу про нёвиллета и ничего не придумала про венти 🤧🤧

enjoy.

bright sun of Inazuma shone on the kimono shop on the corner of the street, filling its visitors with pleasant laziness, and the hostess herself with a desire to end the stuffiness of the day as soon as possible.

you hung your haori on the back of a chair covered with bunch of fabric and exhaled wearily.

it's only noon yet, and you're already listening to insults from a well-to-do girl after announcing that her outfit won't be ready at least until the next evening.

"and besides, with your appearance, I would be ashamed to even look people in the eye!" – the client left, slamming the door irritably. the bell on the door rang plaintively.

"why get personal...?" – you rubbed the bridge of your nose with another sigh, while your gaze slid to the dusty mirror.

impassive glass showed a young woman. always sad eyes, hands covered with calluses and small scars from work. slightly disheveled bangs framing a tired face.

"no matter what, it's still you." – your reflection replied mockingly.

you knew yourself that you weren't that beautiful. there was a little chance to notice you in a crowd, "unremarkable" was the word that suited you the most. the only bright detail on you was, perhaps, a smear of red lipstick on your dry lips. gloomy appearance and an overly calm personality did not add to your attractiveness either. but you were a reliable and practical person, and therefore at least you had a successful career as a tailor.

summer in Inazuma was a nice season for the likes of you: time of festivals and celebrations, banquets and parties of nobles. sometimes you wanted to be in the shoes of your clients yourself: a charming, cheerful young lady choosing among a string of colorful fabrics the one that would suit her new luxurious outfit.

but, unfortunately, you were just a gloomy mistress of a sewing workshop, overwhelmed with work in the hot season.

the long-suffering doorbell, which had to endure a lot of tantrums and dissatisfied cries from visitors today, once again tinkled plaintively, forcing you to come out of your thoughts and turn around.

tall gentleman dressed in expensive white clothes stood in front of the counter. gentle, beautiful face was decorated with a friendly smile and a mole under his lips. at first glance it wasn't difficult to understand that someone very important was in front of you. you were even a little embarrassed, just a little bit: he, bright and cheerful, looks at your modest figure, dressed in a dark, simple kimono.

looks without taking his eyes off.

"lady seamstress? good day. I'm here with a business proposal for you." – the man came closer, still smiling. – "you see, my sister happened to visit your workshop a short time ago."

you tilted your head to the side, scratching your chin. the man in front of you surely looked familiar, for some reason. so it should not be very difficult to remember some pretty young lady with blue hair, from whom the same aura of aristocracy and prosperity would emanate.

"I remember something like that. you must be lady Ayaka's older brother?" – you looked at the supposed head of the Yashiro commission with an impassive look. you're too tired to be surprised by anything, and after all, important people have visited you before. if anything, you certainly had no equal in skill.

"yes, indeed. you are very observant, [name]." – you raised your eyebrow: you couldn't remember telling your name to Ayaka. well, it's not like it really matters, right?

your strange visitor continued to speak with an unnerving gleam in his purple eyes.

"as you have already understood, my name is Kamisato Ayato. I would like to offer you to work at our mansion."

____*:･ﾟ✧

"it's beautiful. I like it." – the younger Kamisato was looking at the sleeves of the kimono with satisfaction while you, now her personal tailor, pinned the hem with pins.

"but, I would like to ask you something, [name]." – you raise your head, looking up at your lady. – "you make such beautiful things. why don't you ever wear them yourself? I always see you in such inconspicuous colors. no bright fabrics, no embroidery."

you get up from your kneeling position, your scarred hands concentrating on straightening the fabric while you mumble without looking up from your work.

"you see, milady, there are people like you and people like me. beautiful things are meant for beautiful people, for important ones: who look good in gold embroidery and silk hemlines." – you look up at Ayaka, narrowing your eyes a little. – "people like me don't wear such clothes. besides, I don't have the looks to wear bright fabrics."

you walked over to the table, adjusting your black haori and assessing the work you've done. kimono suits your lady, who is currently looking down in embarrassment, realizing the huge difference in your statuses.

"ah, I also wanted to know..." – Ayaka swallows, averting her eyes and changing the subject. – "you're going to the festival, aren't you? I'd like to do your hair, if you don't mind."

you answered as calmly as usual, stating the fact.

"I have nothing to wear. and no one to go with." – calloused fingers unconsciously run through your hair, as if you could not imagine someone gathering them into a beautiful hairstyle.

"how is that? what about my older brother?" – the younger Kamisato bats her eyes with confusion.

"master? why would he?" – you tilted your head to the side in genuine surprise.

"wait, I remember exactly, brother said that you will go to the festival with him." – you smiled wearily, as if Ayaka was a child who blurted out some nonsense.

you? with him? you'd rather cut off your own finger than believe it.

you felt your master's hands resting on your shoulders.

"that's right, you're coming, and you're coming with me. I'll take care of the outfit, and I'll do your hair too." – Ayato glanced at his sister and continued talking. it seemed to you that he was standing a little closer than he should have been: at least you heard his voice right next to your ear. – "are you done here? can I borrow you for a while, [name]?"

you just nodded cautiously, wary that your master still had his hands on your shoulders. and the fact that you could clearly feel his hot chest pressed against your back.

"eavesdropping is bad, brother!" – that's right, eavesdropping is bad. and you could only think just how much did he hear.

your walk down the corridor was in silence: you didn't want to speak until you were asked, and apparently he didn't want to ask.

"master," you finally spoke up, tired of the suffocating silence, – "why would you need to accompany me to the festival?"

Ayato gave you a look with his cunning lavender eyes and replied with an unchanging smile.

"because I want to."

"what about clothes? you know, I feel quite good in what I usually wear." – you raised your voice slightly, sincere confusion shone in your eternally tired eyes, – "and my hair? why would you need to-"

Ayato bent down, holding a strand of your hair between his fingers.

you saw him kiss your hair, felt his hot breath on your face.

"because. I. want. to."

that night, as at all nights before in this estate, you felt like you were being watched.

and they didn't take their eyes off for even a second.

____*:･ﾟ✧

summer passed quickly: time for banquets, bright festivals and celebrations ended.

you always finished this usually noisy and busy season with a sense of accomplishment, although, of course, you had less work than usual this summer.

you thought you loved to work. at least your hands were always busy with something: fixing someone's obi, making a sample for the store's assortment or another order. to live you need money, and to have money you need to work. so you've been working as long as you can remember.

that's why it was a surprise to find yourself sitting and doing nothing. Thoma did the mending of clothes and other simple work, and new things, as it turned out, were not needed too often by your masters. so all that remained was to drink tea with them and walk around, feeling guilty for your rather big salary.

archons, it's like you're not a tailor but a friend for them.

on the day when you were ready to climb the wall from idleness – such a seemingly unusual thing for you in the past – you finally decided to visit your employer.

Ayato perked up as soon as you appeared at the door of his office.

"master." – you bowed briefly, looking at him with your eternally tired eyes.

"what can I do for you, dear?" – lord Kamisato, realizing that you were here on a business matter, continued with an impenetrable smile, – "is there something you're not satisfied with? if you don't like the food or the clothes, then I'll immediately-"

you shook your head no, clenching your hands nervously, and spoke. there was a tiny bit of embarrassment in your usually calm voice.

"you see, master," – you swallowed nervously, – "I'm a little worried that I don't really have anything to do."

under Ayato's confused gaze, you continued, explaining what you meant.

"I've been working as long as I can remember myself, and when you offered me to work for you, I expected a higher level of workload." – you exhaled.

"I think I feel guilty for sitting around all day. at least let me fix the servants' clothes."

Ayato scratched his chin while his purple eyes seemed to drill a hole in you. you wanted to leave, to end this conversation as quick as possible. you've never been very comfortable in the presence of your employer. you felt the urge to run away to lady Ayaka and distract yourself with idle conversations, or embroidery – with anything.

"no, no, dear, that won't do. I can't let your pretty hands do that." – your gaze dropped to your rather elegant, but scarred and callused hands. not "pretty" at all.

"then," – you sighed, – "then I'm asking for your dismissal. in that case, it would be better for me to return to my shop in the city. I can't sit around all day, master."

pen crunched in Ayato's hands and fell onto the countertop, breaking in half.

you couldn't see him get up from the table before you felt his hot arms wrapped around your waist in a strangleingly tight grip. gloved finger gently stroked your cheek, outlined the edge of a dark circle under your eye.

seeing in your gaze the absolute misunderstanding of what is happening, commissioner Yashiro only smiled gently.

"[name], sweet, sweet [name]. no matter how beautiful a kimono is, if you lost your legs you won't be able to wear it, don't you think? I would recommend that you don't even think about leaving me. besides, Ayaka will be sad. we all got so attached to you."

Ayato giggled sickly, stroking your hair.

it's time to start preparing for the wedding.

____*:･ﾟ✧

[name]. sweet, adorable [name].

quiet and calm woman living on a street corner. completely unnoticeable in a noisy crowd. smoothly, smoothly her hair flutters in the wind. scarred, thin fingers hold the bundle of fabric tightly.

last name is unknown.

date of birth is unknown.

presumably an orphan.

owns a sewing workshop in the city.

not married.

"is this really all that has been found out?" – Ayato puts down the papers, staring intently at the servant who just nods nervously.

"I see. you may leave."

it's probably a good thing she doesn't have a family. no one would look for her if, say, he decided to kidnap her.

any other person would not have noticed her dark silhouette among the noisy streets. would not have remembered the features of her tired face. would not have made inquiries, looking into her past, find out her schedule, send people to monitor and report to him where and with whom she was. any other wouldn't have memorized what she likes and what she doesn't like, and what time she goes to bed.

anyone else wouldn't, but to commissioner Yashiro, she was the most precious person in the world.

ah, she's so diligent! every time Ayato sees his charming seamstress on the street, she always carries some bundles of fabrics, or in the shop, always busy.

today [name] is also working hard.

hiring her at the manor was the right decision: it meant always having her in sight, by his side. whether it was trying on another suit, when he could feel the light touches of her calloused hands sending euphoric shivers down his back, or just talking over tea – being in the company of a gloomy tailor was great.

humans are greedy, selfish creatures by nature. Ayato was no exception–a man of his status could afford everything and even more. and at the moment, his "everything" was her.

sweet, sweet [name].

slipping into her bedroom in the middle of the night has already become a familiar, routine activity. yukata fell off her shoulder, exposing her skin, while she slept, wrapped in a blanket and quietly snoring.

Ayato carefully, so as not to wake her up, sat down next to her and stroked her hair.

of course, so far they are just a worker and an employer.

"but not for long." – he whispered to himself.

you've always wanted to be in the shoes of your clients, haven't you, my dear? to be a noble lady dressed in luxurious silks?

well, you don't have to worry, your wish will come true soon. you won't mind becoming the wife of the head of the Yashiro commission, right, [name]?

I'm very very sleep deprived I wanna scream cry and throw up

bye!!

#yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere ayato #yandere ayato x reader #yandere #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere x you #genshin x you #kamisato ayato #misha.writes

299 notes · View notes

mina-saiyat · 9 months

Text

After Concert (Nayeon, Momo, Sana, Mina)

A/N: Another smut idea pops up after I watch the Misamo showcase, it is really touching to see how they interacts, but I am also thinking about what will happen lol. This is not written by AI, instead I have written this by translating and changing some smut that I wrote in my language before. Now please enjoy and 'Do not touch'

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

Twice has finally completed the American leg of their world tour, you have not been able to see them during the tour, and you take it as a chance to meet the members at their free time.

From time to time, members of Twice, except for Jihyo is busying on prepare her solo album and Misamo that are doing promotion in Japan, will come to your house in the name of visiting you. The most frequent visitors are Chaeyoung and Tzuyu who are resting.

However, this day Nayeon has convinced you to go Japan with her, as she wants to support her members at the last day of their showcase. You watch how emotional they are and they just can’t hold back the tears when they meet each other, you know they have good relations since their debut, and also on bed, so you tell Misamo to visit your hotel room after they finish their schedule.

You laying on the bed ,watching the live broadcast of the news on TV. It was already Misamo's turn to appear, and the clips of three of them performing today is aired on the TV.

"Nayeon, aren't their outfits beautiful tonight?" You patted the back of Nayeon's head while looking at Nayeon's selfie with your mobile phone.

In the photo, there are only two thin strips of cloth on Nayeon's chest, crossed up and down through the shoulders and underarms, to the back, and before being worn back from the underarms and waist, they are connected with the triangular fabric of the lower body.

Nayeon obviously has an C-cup, her plump breasts can be seen almost at a glance, and the triangular cloth on her lower body is also a corner of the black forest that is faintly exposed from time to time between movements.

"Uh..." Nayeon stopped what she was doing and raised her head to look back. She nodded and then went back to the previous movement. "It's very beautiful, but now I need this."

Nayeon is wearing that set of "pajamas", and has been kneeling between your legs, one hand is constantly stroking your penis, the other is playing with your scrotum, and the small mouth keeps kissing everywhere of your penis and scrotum, she sucks your penis and sucks the head of your penis, and makes one or two deepthroat movements from time to time.

After many years of training, everyone of Twice has practiced a set of blowjob hobbies that are unique to each other, and a set of public blowjob techniques that nine people have discussed with each other and all nine of them know how to do when pleasing you.

Just like Nayeon right now, she likes to quickly lick the penis from bottom to top, and then put the glans in her mouth. During the quick swallowing process, the glans collides with the small tongue tip of the throat, but not Will be too deep in the throat, just click to the end. The tip of the tongue hitting the throat back and forth like this, the feeling of wanting to vomit but not vomit, wanting to suffocate but not suffocating, is Nayeon's favorite.

At this moment, the three of Misamo were being interviewed by the MC on TV, and Momo once again began to avoid the microphone, giving the opportunity to Mina and Sana.

"Come...get up, the main course is almost ready, come up." You patted Nayeon's bare back.

"Um... oh...boo" Nayeon finally swallowed your penis a few more times to pass the addiction, and then pulled out the penis with a sound from her tightly pursed lips.

"Turn around and see how your sisters behave."

"Oh, daddy."

Nayeon turned around, her face was facing the TV, her bare back was facing you, her legs were separated and she knelt on your crotch. Holding your firm penis with one hand and constantly stroking it, her other hand supporting herself on the bed, her waist slowly dropped on you.

You look at your cock against Nayeon's labia. After Nayeon rubbed it a few times with her buttocks, the mushroom head was inserted into the labia and continued to move inside.

From the tips to the root of your penis, it gradually disappeared in Nayeon's vagina little by little until there were only the balls are hanging outside her clits.

Nayeon sat until you reach her bottom of the waist, feeling extremely sexually aroused all over, and then let out a refreshing sound "oh".

Listening to the interview session between Mina and Sana, watching Momo smiling and covering her mouth, Nayeon twisting her buttocks and start grinding your crotch.

The pictures inside the TV made Nayeon feels a perverted sexual pleasure. The members were interviewed on the spot and baptized by countless lights, but she was in the hotel room, having a crazy adultery with her master.

"Ah...ummm...uh...ohhhhh!" Nayeon's waist twisted more cheerfully, rubbing her hands even harder on her breasts.

"Nayeon... you... ah... and... uh... being horny again." You felt Nayeon's madness on riding you again, and frantically began to demand the pleasure of sex by suiting her rhythm.

"Uh... Daddy... push hard... ah... deeper"

You hold Nayeon's waist tightly, and struck her down on your penis forcefully. Nayeon's ass cheek kept colliding with your crotch, and there was a "popping" sound of skin and flesh hitting the hips trembling.

"Daddy... push hard... ah ah... harder... um oh... oh oh... oh"

"You... little... whore"

"Daddy... no... ah... why do you say I am a whore... uh oh... Aren’t I your little baby?"

You get up and push Nayeon down, the penis slipped out of Nayeon's walls, you press her shoulders with both hands, and made her kneel on the bed with her legs apart.

"Nayeon, look at your members...uh" You bend down to cling to Nayeon's hot body, holding your penis and thrusting into Nayeon's pussy, with one arm around her slim waist and the other stretch her big breasts which were ravaged by the cloth strips on her chest.

"Ah...daddy...you came in again...uh huh huh"

"Nayeon, watch they finish the interview and walk off the stage." You lick Nayeon's ear, nibbling it from time to time.

"Oh umm..." Nayeon watched the members walk off the stage on the TV, while she was on the bed bearing the whipping from her master. While her upper body is being used by your hands, her lower body was constantly being impacted by your giant objects.

For a moment, feelings of shame, infidelity, sexual pleasure, etc. spread from the brain to her whole body. Nayeon’s petite body is trembling with excitement, the body temperature also rise rapidly, the contraction of the vagina of her lower body and the secretion of her juices became more rapid.

During this time, Nayeon and you changed a few positions, exploring each other's body crazily. Nayeon's high-pitched groans, which had been unscrupulous before, also turned into a hoarse growl after a long period of screaming.

Finally it was time for their performance again, Nayeon and You also took a break for a while, Nayeon was naked at the side, wearing a new pair of black stockings, ready for the second round. The original "cloth strip artifact" has become wet and lying on the corner of the room, indicating that it was ruined in the furious sex.

You watch the live performance of Misamo together with Nayeon, who just finished wearing black stockings. One of your hand keep lingering on Nayeon's chest, and the other hand pointed to the TV and said, "Nayeon, Mina’s outfit is really sexy today! I'll make a phone call and ask the three of them to come over in this dress."

You take out the mobile phone next to the bed, and calling them. Nayeon was touching her boobs with one hand while she rubs her clit and thrust two fingers into her pussy with the others.

"Nayeon...you...cannot stop for a minute today?" You finished the phone call and turn to see Nayeon masturbating.

"Daddy... Nayeon... still want it ... now..." Nayeon wrinkled her nose and dragged her long ending, while coquettishly stretching out her hand to grab my penis.

You pull Nayeon over and spank her elastic ass cheek, "Kneel!"

Nayeon immediately kneel down on the bed, understand her wish can be fulfilled, and you turn around behind her, and as soon as you hold her waist with both hands, thrust your penis into her thirsty pussy again.

"Ah...too...uh...it's...too deep...aah...Nayeon is going to...die...Daddy!”

Nayeon's weeping voice sounded in your ears, and you ask heavily, "Then... do you like it, my baby Nayeon?"

"Yes... like... Nayeon likes... I am dead... ah ah ah... fuck Nayeon... uh uh... fuck your... slave!"

Nayeon's roars arouse your lust even further. You thrust in Nayeon's pussy harder and harder, and Nayeon responds to me with obscene howls and moving her hips backward for more pleasure.

The TV show has been over for a while when you are still enjoying Nayeon’s body. You keep venting your desire on Nayeon's sexy body, and Nayeon is keep getting all kinds of sexual satisfaction from you.

The door of the hotel room finally opened, and the Misamo walk into the room wearing a uniform set of light-colored trench coats.

In front of the three of them, you are on top of Nayeon, propping up your lower body on the bed with both hands, frantically moving your penis in and out of Nayeon's slippery pussy. On the other hand, Nayeon's separated legs were bent and clamped tightly around your waist, shaking her head violently and keep moaning.

The obscene scene make the faces of the three of them turn red quickly, and they were swallowing saliva in their mouths.

"Come on, take off your windbreaker. Why are you still wearing it in the house?"

"Yes..." The three of them take off their trench coats in response, revealing the stage costumes they wore on TV just now.

"Momo, Sana, come here, I'll leave Nayeon to you!" You pulled out your penis from Nayeon's body, totally coated by Nayeon’s nectar.

"Ah... Daddy... no..." When Nayeon felt the emptiness in her body, she hurriedly speak out to stop it.

"Be a good girl... let Momo and Sana play with you for a while."

Momo and Sana climbed onto the bed in red stage costumes, Sana kiss Nayeon's red lips, Momo kiss Nayeon's breasts, and the two skillfully attack Nayeon’s body.

You watched Nayeon quickly panting under the cooperation of Momo and Sana, so you stopped paying attention. Looking back, I saw Mina standing beside the bed in that well-tailored red stage costume. You pull Mina over and let her sit on your lap. One hand lingering on the exposed part of her costume's waist, and the other lift her chin, kissing her red lips.

After a burst of tongue kisses, Mina's face is blushed. You look at each other with your lips parted, and you look at Mina's red face like a red Fuji apple, attracting you to take a bite.

You pull down the zipper on the side of her costume by passing through Mina's armpit, and poke your hand into it. You reach out to Mina's skirt with the other hand, pulling down the zipper on the side of the shorts, and reach into the pants to explore her path.

"Uh...huh...um..." Mina opened her mouth, panting and moaning slightly.

Mina, who exudes a seductive aura at this moment, is more and more able to seduce a man's deepest desire buried in her heart.

"Come on, Mina, lie on the side of the bed, yes... that's it, open your legs." You get up and direct Mina's movements.

Mina props her arms on the side of the bed, leans forward and stand with her legs apart. You unbutton and threw the folded skirt on the ground, then taking off the safety pants together and put them together with the hem of the skirt just now.

A small piece of the black forest was stained with spots of water, and her clits slowly opens and shrinks in a rhythmic manner.

You stretch out your hand to part her lips and looked at the depths of the deep path. You stick your tongue into her vagina and lick it, and pressed your lips tightly against the clit to suck the honey in the vagina from time to time.

"Ah...Oppa...It’s dirty...um...don't lick it." Mina shakes her ass, trying to avoid your tongue. But You hold onto her ass cheeks tightly to prevent Mina from breaking free.

"Ahh… Umm… Oppa… no…. too deep… ummm…’ Mina gradually changes from actively avoiding your licking to passively swaying her slender waist, let her ass grinding against your face.

"No... ah ah... I want to... cum... um... ahh!" Mina reached an orgasm, and her pussy quickly splashing juices and sprayed all over your face.

After you play Mina's pussy and get all of her juice in your mouth, you let go of your hands that are holding on Mina's ass, let her lay down on the bed and rest after the orgasm, she don’t even have any energy to resist your hands on her body.

Mina panting on the bed with her head sideways, she breathes heavily and looking at Momo and Sana who had already taken off their performance costumes, take out a pair of Strap-on dildo from the bedside table and put them on, Momo at the bottom and Sana on the top, sandwiching Nayeon in the middle like a hamburger, going back and forth in and out of Nayeon's pussy and asshole.

"Ahhh...I want more...Momo...Sana...harder...uh...ohhh" Nayeon yelled hysterically with her already hoarse throat under the attack of Momo and Sana .

Mina look at Nayeon's lecherous appearance in front of her, and didn't look surprised at all. Instead, she reach out and grabs Nayeon's breast.

You watch the nectar slowly flow out from Mina's pussy after orgasm, your lust is burning roughly, and your cock stand stiffly in the air.

While Mina’s attention was distracted to the battle of the other three, You hold Mina by the waist and pull her to the side of the bed, separated her ass cheek with your hands, hold your penis and pump her waist up until you reach the deepest spot.

"Ah" Mina screams suddenly. She feel her figure being pulled back, and it does not stop until her ass was exposed outside the bed. After that, her ass cheeks were forcibly separated by your hand, and she immediately feel your hard cock is inserted into her pussy.

"Papapa" and "Papapapa" are becoming more and more intensive, accompany by Mina’s low-alto singing voice, "Ah... ah... Oppa... um oh... ah eh Um... woo... oh"

Just as usual as you take Mina, she bit her lower lip tightly to prevent herself from shouting, and only let go until she couldn't bear it any longer, making the groaning sound that ordinary people couldn't hear and the unrestrained image.

You stand behind Mina, thrusting into her quickly, Mina's legs trembled constantly under the violent impact, and you gradually become unstable.

"Come on, go to bed and lie on your stomach." Seeing that Mina could not stand still, you pat her ass to signal her to go to bed.

While bearing your whipping behind her, Mina slowly raised her legs to get on the bed, gradually climbed onto the bed and lay on her face, burying her flushed face with excitement in the pillow.

I also go to bed with Mina, lying on her back, kissing around her neck and shoulder, and still galloping on Mina's delicate body.

"Ahhh... Oppa... I... ah... I can't... heavy... you... too heavy... ahhhh." Begging and groaning.

"Then turn over."

"Oh... Oppa... Get up... I'll turn over" Mina rolls over behind me, and you press on her again, Mina's slender legs tightly hook around your waist, wet dew was exposed between the separated legs Vulva, soon a regular customer stay in it again, and keep going out or going home; the red costume on her chest was pulled down because of the zipper, and the breasts were half-naked.

You play with Mina's beautiful snow-white breasts with one hand, and suck her hard nipples. The lower bodies of the two of them also kept in close contact.

"Mina, come and kiss Nayeon." You look at the three people next to each other and tell Mina and Nayeon to kiss each other.

Hearing this, Mina stretched out her head and kissed Nayeon's plump lips, from the very beginning touch to the intense French kiss, while the former endured my fierce whipping, and the latter endured the double-headed penetration of the members in the same group.

After a period of intense physical strength and time consumption, "Oppa!" "ahh!" Mina and Nayeon let out a high-pitched groan at the same time under the stimulation of the double pleasure, and collapse on the bed panting heavily to recover from the intense orgasm.

When your cock was being pushed and inserted quickly in Mina's body, it was poured by the rapid contraction and extrusion of Mina's walls, and a large amount of her nectar splashes.

In the end, you jerked in Mina's pussy and completed the second ejaculation today. “Oh Mina… Take my seed!”

You pull out the loose penis after cumming, watching the seed overflowing from Mina's clits from time to time, your penis became hard again.

Momo, Nayeon, and Sana were exhausted after orgasm, and they were stacked on top of each other like an arhat.

"Come on, Momo, Sana, let's change."

After the exchange complete, you see Momo and Sana pinching Mina just like they did to Nayeon just now, and while ravaging, they said, "Mina Chan, we will love you very much."

You turn your head away from the MISAMO trio's bed-sharing show, and inserted your penis into Nayeon's asshole.

"Ah...it hurts...daddy...you...ahh...wrong hole!"

"That's right... Nayeon... That's right... That's right this time... I haven't used your back... for a long time. "

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #nayeon smut #momo smut #sana smut #mina smut #twice nayeon #twice momo #twice sana #twice mina #twice imagines #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut

482 notes · View notes

catt-leya · 1 year

Note

Hi babe!

I saw that your requests were open and I jumped on the occasion lol.

I am a sucker for the jealousy trope, so I thought of something along the lines of like; Rick and reader are not together, but everyone knows that they like each other and there is like an unspoken band between those two. They arrive at Alexandria and there is someone from there who has eyes on the reader. They like idk do everything so that the reader has to work with them and so on. From there on u can choose what happens! But jealous Rick is a need at this point lol.

Thanks babe, have a lovely day!💖

Sucker For Pain (18+++) || Rick Grimes

The fic has gotten a little out of control 👉🏼👈🏼😅 (14 pages sweeties 💗) have fun 💗💗💗

Trigger: Mention of spanking, dirty talk, oral sex, choking (?), breeding (?) and my usual smutty stuff

Gently, you push the door of the barn shut behind the others and remain alone with Rick and the new one.

Concerned, you look over at the bound man, who has introduced himself as Aaron.

Not because you think he's a danger to you, but rather because you think Rick is a danger to him.

Aaron gave you the opportunity to find a community and instead of listening to him and giving him a chance, Rick punched him in the face and knocked him unconscious.

Now he's awake again and it doesn't look like he's doing badly, but you're not a doctor either and can't really tell.

Sighing, you avert your eyes from Aaron and look to Rick, who is looking in a bag in the back of the barn.

He's bending over and the old brown shirt is straining against his shoulders, which is probably proof enough that he's changed not only mentally, but physically as well.

When you met him, it wasn't lanky, but being forced to do a lot more physically than before hasn't passed him by without leaving a mark, and you have to force yourself not to gape at him as you slowly walk in his direction.

Immediately he senses your presence and straightens up to his full height so that he towers over you significantly and you have to tilt your head slightly back to look at him, "Knocking him unconscious wasn't necessary."

Rick watches you put your small hands on your hips and is once again fascinated by how small and almost dainty you seem to be next to him.

He's also well aware that you make an interesting contrast when you reach for his dirty hands, as you are doing now.

After the long time outside without a solid roof over his head, he probably looks like a Neanderthal, and you're reaching into his beard and pulling out a dry leaf makes him blink several times before he answers more hoarsely than intended, "You're worried about him?"

You can see him trying to classify whether you're worried about Aaron or simply don't approve of his actions, so you wrinkle your nose and put your small hands on his shoulders. Even through the fabric of the shirt, you can feel the sheer force underneath.

You love the way his body feels under your hands, and you know he likes it when you touch him, too.

He's never flinched before, and seems to really puff up when you reach for his hand at times, or let your hand slide over his torso. What you don't know is that Rick is electrified every time you are this close to him and is addicted to showing others that you are his.

He is careful not to tell you that he sees you as his property and he is aware of how primitive it sounds, but it is just a switch that flips on him as soon as another guy looks at you or you show interest in another.

Simply to prove it to himself and your unwilling visitor that you belong to him, he leans over and puts his hands on your hips as he whispers in your ear, "Are you afraid I'm going to punch him again?"

Your whole body reacts to this sudden closeness.

You move closer to him and can only hope he doesn't hear how unnaturally rough your voice is, "Just don't do it."

You notice how he seems to hesitate for a moment before he breathes a small kiss on your neck and then moves away from you, nodding slightly, "If he doesn't give me a reason."

The spot his lips touched feels like it's on fire and you clear your throat softly as you let your hands slide off his broad shoulders, "Him looking at me is not a reason, understand?"

Your voice shoots up in a way that makes Rick laugh, "Depends on how he looks at you." You don't suppress the urge to roll your eyes, "Rick!"

Surprised that he's suddenly so eager for physical contact, you wince slightly as he presses another kiss to your cheek, "I get it, baby."

It's not until he pulls the barn door shut behind him that you realize he called you ‘baby’ for the first time and you're stuck in place.

He probably just said it as a joke because you pushed him like an overprotective wife.

Yeah, right.

That must have been it.

You're not the kind of people who give each other pet names like that.

It's different between you.

Quickly shaking your head to get the thought out of your head, you see Aaron smiling broadly, "You make a cute couple. How long have you been together?"

Your eyes dart back to the door Rick disappeared through, and you're sure he's not far away and will probably walk back in the door any second, so you quickly say, "I don't think we're a couple."

He raises his eyebrows and even before he says it he knows what he's going to say, "You think?"

Sighing, you take a step in his direction and drop to the ground with enough distance between you and him, "I don't know what we are."

You can clearly tell Aaron is much more relaxed since Rick left the barn, which also seems to loosen his tongue, and he looks at you with interest, "Feel free to correct me, but didn't he call you 'baby'? I'd call my boyfriend that, but definitely not someone I just get along with."

You look up at the ceiling, "I'm sure he meant that as a joke because I was acting a little wifey."

He opens his mouth, but closes it immediately as the door is pushed open and Rick comes back in.

Immediately his eyes are on you and you smile at him, "Are you okay?"

Hesitantly he nods, "The others are back and we're going to his camp. But on my terms."

…

Rick's conditions turn out to be quite dangerous, but since no one contradicts him, you pack your things and follow his instructions on who goes with whom.

As you might expect, you ride in the car with Rick, and instead of putting you in the back seat with Michonne and Aaron, he pulls you into his lap in the passenger seat.

You don't claim that you don't like being this close to him, and Rick would have to be a total idiot if he didn't enjoy the way you lean relaxed against his chest, your pretty butt resting on his thigh.

He doesn't really think about it as he puts his left hand on your thigh and watches you play with the wedding ring on his hand.

Just months ago, it bothered you that he still wears it even though his wife passed away and he assured you several times that he was over it and doing well.

You didn't want to tell him at the time that it somehow bothered you that he was still wearing the ring anyway, but he noticed it himself and gently pulled you to him.

Your back was pressed against his chest and he whispered softly in your ear, "I only wear the ring as a reminder of who I used to be. That's all it is."

Now you're ready to accept it and swallow that little ounce of jealousy towards a dead woman.

Lost in thought, you turn the ring on his finger and notice something on your back.

Blindly, you reach back and graze the spot on your back.

The feeling disappears and you run your finger along the veins from his forearm to his hand, that's when you notice it again and when you realize what it is, you cry out.

Glenn, who is driving the car, hits the brakes full on. You are pushed forward and Rick is immediately wide awake, "What is it?"

Frantically trying to get to your back, you shriek perhaps a little too hysterically, "There's something crawling on my back. Oh my God."

You fidget around on Rick's lap and Glenn, shaking his head, starts driving again, "If that's all it is."

As calm as Glenn is, the more hysterical you become, and in a panic you press against Rick, who is frozen in his seat, until you whimper helplessly, "Make it go away. I beg you…make it go away."

At the way you sound scared, his heart softens and he reaches for your shirt and pulls it up over your back.

Gently, he puts a hand on the back of your neck and pushes you forward a little so he can see your bare back and runs his hand over it, "Shhhh. I'm doing it."

At your reaction, he was expecting a cockroach the size of your hand, but it's just a small spider, which he just tosses to the floor of the car and then says softly, "It's all good again."

You turn your head and look back over your shoulder at him, "You sure?"

Without taking his eyes off you, he runs his hand slowly down your back one more time and now you can't hold back the goosebumps.

He releases his hand from your neck and you take a deep breath.

The critter is gone and you don't even want to know what it was.

Actually, it's sad that you're more panicky about creepy-crawlies in this world than you are about a single walker, but you didn't choose it.

Still sensing how tense you are, Rick slides his hand from your bare back to your stomach and pulls you back against his chest.

He is well aware that it would be more appropriate to leave his hand on your shirt, but he can't bring himself to remove his hand from your warm skin and the shame of taking advantage of you disappears when he notices how you rest your head on his shoulder and your breath regularly hits his neck.

It doesn't seem to bother you and you even enjoy it, feeling so safe in his arms that you even close your eyes and slowly doze off.

Unfortunately, this peace doesn't last long as a jolt goes through the car and Rick yells, "Go, go, go!"

You tear your eyes open and see a huge horde of walkers blocking your way.

Glenn has run over a few, but not nearly enough to keep you safe, and when suddenly a light shoots into the air in the middle of the forest, everything happens very quickly.

Aaron, who had been sitting in the back seat a few seconds ago, was gone.

Rick, who immediately wanted to be in control of the situation, pushes open the door and pushes himself out of the car with you.

You stumble to a halt and he grabs your hand.

He clasps it tightly and with Michonne and Glenn in tow, he pulls you into the woods. As you run, he hisses, "Stay with me. I want you to hold my hand the whole time and don't you dare let go of me, understand?"

Completely disoriented, you nod and let him drag you deeper into the forest.

Because he, being right-handed, clutches your right hand with his left, you can't reach for the knife and trust that Rick knows what he's doing and won't kill you that way after all.

Behind you and Rick, Glenn and Michonne are running, and you flinch when you hear Rick shoot and turn to face forward again. Everywhere you look there are walkers and you tug on Rick's hand, "Let go of me. I want my knife."

Reluctantly, he lets go of you and looks down at you.

His hair is falling in his face and as inappropriate as it may be at the moment, you have to remember that you really need to give him a haircut, Rick says harshly, "Stay near me. Please."

You quickly look around, but the walkers are still some distance away, so you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him briefly on the cheek, "I promise."

The moment you put distance between you again, there is a strange vibe between you.

You get the feeling he's about to say something else, but anxiously you interrupt him on whatever else he was about to say, "Shit, where are Glenn and Michonne?"

Rick jerks his head around and shoots the nearest walker, "Keep going."

Over and over you call out for Glenn and Michonne, but you can't find them and with all the walkers around you and to top it off you run out of ammo and Rick fires the signal pistol he took from Aaron earlier as a last resort.

The forest around you glows a deep red as a result and if it wasn't such a horrible situation you would find the light really beautiful, but this last shot makes your situation that much more hopeless.

Panic rises in you as out of nowhere Aaron appears behind you, "Come with me."

Immediately Rick stands in front of you and tries to shield you from him, which he comments impatiently, "If you want, put my shackles back on, Rick. But then do it quickly."

Rudely, you shove Rick in Aaron's direction, "Just go, Rick. You know he doesn't need them."

Reluctantly, he lets you push him forward, and you fight your way through the woods with Aaron until you come to what used to be a residential area.

Skeptically, you slow your pace until you can make out Daryl some distance away.

You can hardly believe that everyone is waiting for you inside safe and sound, and you don't hold back on the hugs either.

You fall around each one's neck and even with Aaron you don't hold back, murmuring softly in his arms, "Thank you."

Gently, he strokes your back and asks you softly, "You didn't tell Rick I had a boyfriend did you?"

Confused, you back away from him, "No? Why would I? There are plenty of people in relationships."

Laughing, he shakes his head, "Because he looks like he's about to rip my head off."

You let go of Aaron completely now and spin around to see what Aaron can see over your shoulder.

Rick is standing with Daryl and Carol and they're both talking to him, but his blue eyes are on you.

When you catch him doing it, though, he quickly turns away and Aaron calls out behind you, "Rick? I want you to meet my boyfriend."

Your eyes dart to Aaron and then you close your eyes with a sigh.

The evening has clearly been too long and you don't have the strength left to even deal with another announcement, but you shuffle past Rick and mumble indistinctly, "I'm going to sleep."

Before you're out of his reach, he reaches for your hand, "Are you okay?"

At first glance, Rick always acts like he's bursting with strength and could do anything and everything in the blink of an eye, but now after the fiasco on the road and the long time without a real home, you can tell how exhausted he is. The wrinkles in his face are getting deeper and the fact that he looks like a man who has never heard of haircutting unfortunately only makes it more obvious how much it is tearing at him.

Plus, you have to admit that he's no longer in his early 20s and certainly didn't envision his life with a group of humans and a horde of walkers breathing down his neck. But then, who has?

You look to Aaron and say, "Is it okay if we all meet in the morning? I want our fearless leader to get some sleep and unfortunately, I have a feeling he won't sleep at all unless I personally take over this task and force him to get some rest."

You know Rick is going to disagree with you, so you squeeze his hand as hard as you can: "Say anything other than 'yes' and I'll put you over my knee."

Aaron chokes on his own laughter and the glint in Rick's eyes, makes you sway slightly.

You tell yourself you're tired and imagining it, but he looks at you like he's about to throw himself at you.

Dangerously slow, he releases his hand from yours and clasps your wrist, "Yes ma'am, but are you sure I shouldn't put you over my knee?" His voice is rough and sleepy.

Normally he would hold back the words or regret them after the fact, but he can barely keep his eyes open and his mouth is faster than his head because of it.

He's also aware that you absolutely didn't mean it sexually and were really just trying to help him, but it was an easy template for him and seeing your pupils get huge and your breasts press against the fabric of your shirt as you take a deep breath was clearly worth it.

He'd probably kick his ass for it tomorrow, but he leans over and murmurs softly in your ear, "Shall I?"

A jolt goes through your body and he resists the urge to pull you closer to him.

You can't believe what he's said.

It's common for you to be close, but hearing something so overtly sexual from him is new.

So unbelievably new that you can't bring anything past your lips.

At this moment it wouldn't even have to be something clever and a simple sentence would suffice, but you just stare at him.

The room suddenly seems much too small and Rick much too big.

Rick's thoughts wander into areas that are completely inappropriate in the current situation and when he notices how his pants are getting tighter, he takes a step back and clears his throat: "We'll di everything out tomorrow. I really should go lie down."

Because you're still frozen, he puts his hands on your shoulders and pushes you into an adjacent room, "Daryl said there's a couch here. You can sleep there."

He takes it upon himself to pretend the conversation about your ass doing wonderfully under his palm never happened and pushes you further toward the couch, "Get some rest."

Your gaze slides around the sparsely furnished room and you quickly realize that there is only this one narrow couch, "Let me guess: I'm supposed to sleep on the couch and you're going to lie down on the floor next to me, right?"

The stiffness breaks away from you as you walk toward the couch and look back over your shoulder at him, "That was your plan, right?"

He stands in the doorway with his arms crossed and you can't help but stare at how well he fills the spot with his broad shoulders, "Right."

Blinking, you shake your head to get your thoughts in order: "No way. We always sleep next to each other anyway, so we might as well squeeze onto the couch."

You groan in satisfaction as you drop down onto the couch and see Rick wince.

Things have been very intimate between you for months now, and he didn't think he'd hit the ceiling like that right away at your soft moans.

His cock in his pants becomes wide awake and he just can't imagine sleeping on the couch pressed so close to you.

Sleeping with you on the floor is fine, because he can avoid you well when you once again press your butt against his crotch in the middle of the night. But on this narrow thing you'd have to practically lie on top of him and it would be almost impossible not to get a boner.

So he shakes his head, "That's okay."

He watches you kick your shoes off your feet and kneel on the couch.

As you do so, you bend over a bit and, without thinking, squeeze your breasts together with your arms, which Rick doesn't miss. Standing stiffly, he forces himself to look you in the face as you pout, "Oh come on. I'm certainly not going to let you sleep on the floor, and I won't leave you alone until you're lying with me."

Rick sends a shove prayer to the heavens, hoping you don't see how tight his pants have gotten.

He's been in the most hopeless situations, and yet he could swear that nothing has ever felt as dangerous as lying down next to you right now and not moaning as you lay your upper body on top of him, your soft breasts pressing against his chest.

He stares at the ceiling above you, yet a 'holy shit' slips from his lips as you slide one leg over his and get dangerously close to his balls.

You've always liked sleeping with Rick, and even now being close to him makes you happier than the soft couch you're lying on for once.

Your head rests on his shoulder and you murmur sleepily, "Good night."

The only thought Rick has, however, is 'I think my balls are falling off.'

It seems like a miracle that he was able to fall asleep next to you, even though you kept pushing on top of him in your sleep, and even the morning after was soaked in preparations and plans.

…

The whole trip has ended up being so elaborate that you're jittery with excitement when you finally arrive at the gates of Alexandria.

As soon as the car comes to a stop, you get out and look up at the walls surrounding this community.

Aaron didn't promise too much when he said that nothing could enter without their consent.

It is tremendous and for a long time you have not had this level of hope in your heart.

Aaron leads you inside the community and you don't even have to turn around to know Rick is following you like a shadow.

Your gaze travels over the people gathered around you at a wide distance and your eyes linger on a handsome blond man who is looking at you with open interest.

He looks so clean that you notice the blush rising in your cheeks from embarrassment at how run-down you must look.

With your group, you didn't care because you all look worse than the next, but his golden hair, which looks like liquid gold in the light, only makes you more aware of how your hair must look and yet you can't take your eyes off him.

It's unusual these days to see such pure beauty.

Not that you don't think other men are beautiful, but it's usually a rugged beauty, like Daryl and Rick's, and not as dazzling.

You don't even realize how long you've been staring at the young man as he slides his gaze over you and wince when Rick grabs you unaccustomedly hard by the upper arm and turns you away from the man, "I want you to go first." His voice is rough and unusually low, causing your eyebrows to go up, "Why me?"

He hisses, "Because I'm telling you to."

Normally Rick never talks to you like this and you notice yourself getting snappier at his tone as well, "And I'd like to know what I'm supposed to say at the big interview anyway, if you'd be so gracious as to tell me."

Rick turns you so that he's shielding you from the audience with his body and rules you again, "The woman in charge here just wants to know what we used to do and how we met. So tell her about your studies and that's it."

You can no longer hold back your laughter, "My studies? Are you kidding me. You know perfectly well that I was only in college for one semester before I ended up with you. I worked as a stripper for years to be able to afford my studies and because of that shit it wasn't even worth it. The only thing I can contribute to convince the woman is a lap dance and an offer to set up a stripper pole here so I can entertain the people here, Rick."

You don't even flinch as his eyes darken and he pulls you close to hiss in your ear, "Don't you dare give even one person in this goddamn world a lap dance."

You try to pull away from him, but he won't let go, so you grit your teeth, "Or what?"

His body shakes with tension and you don't understand why he's so upset about it, when you did it for years before and now you don't even really mean it. So you force yourself to stay calm and ask something you've been wondering for a long time, "How come you never asked me?"

The question catches him completely off guard, "What?"

You tilt your head slightly and don't take your eyes off him, "I told you right at the beginning what my job was and you never asked me for a lap dance. Not that I think you're that cock-addled, but I wouldn't have held it against you. So why didn't you ever do it?"

To be honest, not once has he had to think about what it would be like if you did that for him, but then once the thought has wandered on, to the other men you've danced for money, he'd love to chop his dick off.

Silently, he looks down at you and you sigh softly, "If you're not going to answer me, at least let me go so I can talk to Deanna."

You don't have the strength or much desire to deal with Rick's moods any further and pull your arm out of his grip.

You only get two steps before he calls after you, "Do you want me to ask you?"

Sluggishly, you shake your head. The problem with Rick is that he knows exactly what he wants in every way, only when it has to do with you, it seems like he's always just vacillating back and forth without committing.

Also, the fact that he asks you if he should have asked you just gives you an unnecessary headache, and you say quietly enough so that only he can hear, "Do it or don't. You can do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want, but please remember one thing: make up your mind, because someday it will be too late. I can promise you that."

Rick is incredibly important to you, but at some point, this insecurity with him just isn't enough for you.

You never know what he's serious about and if some things just slip out because he doesn't think about it.

Slowly, you walk to the house you've all been pointed to, feeling Rick's gaze at your back with every step.

It's not until you enter the house that you can take a breath and are actually happy to be talking to a new person.

During the whole conversation you have the feeling that the people here seem to be okay and when you are allowed to leave the house, the blond man you were staring at so shamelessly before is waiting on the porch.

Jerking to a halt, you just stare at him as his full lips part, "Hey, I'm Ron. I was wondering if you wanted me to show you around? You're here with a larger group, but I was hoping you might still like to look around with a local" he winks at you.

You look over his shoulder where you can see Rick practically stabbing him with his eyes and then you look back into Ron's warm brown eyes, "Yeah, I'd love to."

You try not to think about how awful you must smell, and about how you look, it's best not to even get started.

But he doesn't complain and is so incredibly nice to you that you quickly warm up and you're not just talking about Alexandria.

You learn that he studied law and was housed here in Alexandria from the beginning when all hell broke loose.

You find it hard to believe that he's barely left the protected walls, and you're about to ask if he's even killed a walker before he points to a pretty house: "That's where Deanna put you and your friends up."

Incredulous, you look at him, "A whole house?"

Your face makes him chuckle softly, "You'll be assigned more, but for the first night you'll have to share it. The others are still being fixed up for you."

His gaze is on you as you look up at the house and he says softly, "You're beautiful."

Smiling, you lower your gaze and look down at your feet.

Every once in a while Rick has told you that you're beautiful, but otherwise it's been forever and you don't quite know what to answer than you say simply, "Thank you."

Quietly, Ron clears his throat, "Is the big bearded guy who looks so gloomy your boyfriend?"

You can no longer contain yourself and have to hold your stomach in laughter, "Bearded? Gloomy? Oh my God...you mean Rick..."

Usually Rick doesn't wear his beard this long, but there wasn't much shaving going on in the woods, so that's what he looks like, and you can't stop laughing as you think about what Rick must look like to new eyes.

Compared to that, you probably look like you just flew in from a modeling job.

Giggling, you grab his arm and squeeze lightly, "Rick? No, he's not my boyfriend."

As you say this, you realize that this is the first time you've really said it clearly and not titled it with an 'it's complicated'.

As you stand laughing with Ron in front of the house, Rick stands in the shower with his head leaning against the cold tiles.

He has no idea how, in the space of a few hours, he managed to get himself into such a mess that you took off with the blonde toddler.

He groans in frustration and can't help but think of how you lovingly pulled the leaf out of his beard in the barn and pressed up against him that night.

He thinks of how you laugh softly when he stumbles and how your eyes light up whenever you look up at him.

He lets out a "fuck" and bangs the flat of his hand against the tiles.

Your face pops up in his mind the whole time and he can't get rid of it.

His breathing becomes erratic and he releases his hand from the tiles to reach for his cock. In gentle movements he runs over its length, thinking of how your small hand would feel on his body.

How you would look at him full of innocence and stand on your tiptoes to breathe into his ear how much you love him.

A jolt goes through his body and he moans your name softly.

His whole body is tense and in steady movements he brings himself moaning to climax and still it's not enough for him.

In the meantime you have arranged to meet Ron tomorrow and go into the house where the others have already gathered.

Most of them are freshly showered and you go in search of the bathroom.

You're about to turn the corner when you collide with a half-naked Rick.

Before you can land on your butt though, because the guy is like a wall, he holds you by the shoulders and saves you from kissing the floor.

He looks at you like you're an apparition and you don't know that just a few minutes ago he was moaning your name as he came twitching in his own hand.

Silently you want to push past him, but he grabs your hand, "You were out with the toddler."

You want to pull away from him, but his grip is too strong, "None of your business."

There's a brief silence in which you just stare at each other before Rick whispers hoarsely, "Deanna told me that some have never really been behind that wall, and I bet you your lover never has either."

Quietly, you hiss, "Even if he wasn’t. What difference does it make?"

He straightens up to his full height and slides his hand from your arm to your hand, "Do you really want to start something with such a guy?"

You allow him to slide his fingers between yours, "Jesus Rick. I've known him for 3 hours and even if I did, you couldn't care less. What the hell is wrong with you?"

With a flourish, you pull your hand away from him and he grits his teeth, "I just don't like it."

Desperately, you throw your arms in the air, "So what?! Why do you care so much?"

Again, silence falls between you. Exasperated, you dig your finger into his chest, "Get your shit together, Rick."

With those words, you storm off, slamming the door behind you.

Breathing heavily, you lean your back against the wooden door and take a shaky breath.

The fact that he's acting out like this causes a strange mixture of excitement and anger to flare up, and you let yourself slide to the floor by the door.

Angry at you and himself, Rick stomps to the door and growls, "You better not lay anywhere near me tonight. You might as well run off to your lover."

It's completely irrational of him, but his jealousy boils over and he hears you yell from the other side of the door, "Like I'd even think about laying down next to an asshole and I'm telling you, don't you touch me one more time."

The whole house must hear it as Rick stomps to the stairs and hisses loud enough for everyone to hear, "Before I'd chop off my hands."

You're both lying and you know it, but neither of you would give in, which is why you spend the night at the other end of the room and disappear from the house early in the morning before everyone else to meet up with Ron.

…

Ron is passionate about botany and has led you to a flower bed to show you the plants and explain their properties, that's when you hear Rick's deep voice coming closer and closer some distance away.

You try to focus on Ron, but you just can't ignore Rick's broad southern accent, and when he suddenly stops, you know he's spotted you.

You don't dare turn around as you hear him approach again and his deep voice thunders over your head, "Flowers?"

Immediately Ron straightens up and smiles openly at Rick, "Yes, aren't they beautiful?"

You close your eyes, knowing full well that Rick will ridicule it and Ron is such a pure soul that he won't even notice what Rick is doing, so you interject as a precaution, "Yes, they're beautiful."

Ron smiles even wider at you, "So are you."

When Rick saw you with the idiot, he already thought he was going to puke, but after those words, he just sees red, "Keep your hands off her."

Surprised, Ron looks at him, "Please what?"

Quicker than expected, you turn to him and hiss, seething with anger, "You shut your mouth."

He just can't stand to see you with the toddler and points his head toward the house, "Can we talk?"

Immediately you shake your head, "What for?"

Rick looks you firmly in the eye, "Please?"

In that moment, it's like it always used to be and you nod slowly, "You have 10 minutes."

Rick walks back to your house and you turn to Ron and say, "Sorry. I have to go sort something out with him for a minute."

Rather reluctantly, you follow Rick inside and stop in the middle of the empty kitchen, "What do you want to tell me?"

Only now do you see that Rick has cut his beard shorter and he looks as hot as ever again. He seems to be thinking about what he wants to say to you and you start to get impatient, "Either there's something coming now or I'm leaving because you can't stand me near you."

Quickly he reaches for your hand and you hiss, "Don't touch me."

Instead of letting go of you, he pulls you to him with all his might and says softly, "I don't like it when you talk to the flower guy."

Oh my god.

He's going to freak you out.

In disbelief, you snort, "Holy shit, Rick. Why don't you just let me do what I want? You can't tell me who to like and who not to like. This has nothing to do with you."

He takes a deep breath, "I just don't want it. Can't you just do what I ask you to do?"

You can't believe what he's saying and slap his chest hard with your free hand, "Are you out of your mind?! I couldn't care less whether you like it or not. Especially not with this more than shitty reasoning. You have absolutely no idea what you want in life, Rick. One second you're telling me you don't want me around, and the next you're trying to - what, actually? Protect me? From a young man who loves spending time with me and appreciates it? From a man who is so sweet that you seem like a prehistoric man marking his territory? And for what? If you should not know it: I am NOT your property! You can't push me back and forth as it suits you and you have no right to me at all. Especially not if you don't know how..." and then his fingers are in your mouth.

Surprised, you fall silent and stare at him with huge eyes.

He doesn't know, himself, exactly why he did it, but you wouldn't stop talking and your full lips were so inviting that he just did it.

Actually, the second you stared at him with your eyes wide open, he was expecting you to just bite his fingers, but when you let your tongue slide over his fingers, he gasps in surprise.

Your body shakes with adrenaline and it's like a knee-jerk reaction as you take his fingers deeper into your mouth and moan softly muffled by his fingers.

The situation between you is completely absurd, especially after you actually want to slap him, but you allow Rick to press you against him at the waist and walk you backwards until he can lean against the kitchen counter and you close your eyes, fluttering, as you feel his hardening cock against your belly.

You don't look at him again until he slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth and you let him have it with a soft 'plop'.

The tension between you is palpable and Rick knows exactly what he wants at this moment. What he's always wanted.

So he leans down to you and presses his lips greedily to yours.

He's had enough of deliberately choosing not to make the next move with you over and over again, and he'd rather risk you hitting him than lose you without a fight to the idiot with the flowers.

The fact that you don't pull away from him, but pull him even deeper to you at the back of his head, makes his heart beat that much faster and he buries his fingers in the soft skin of your hips.

He's felt your body against his before, but never have you clung to him like you do now, and he already knows he'd never forget it.

Never could he forget the way your moans sound in his ears and the way your body rubs against his.

You don't care how needy you act as you release your hands from his hair and reach for the buttons of his shirt.

Gasping for air, you pull away from him and whimper, "I want you."

Rick beautiful blue eyes are dark with desire, "Fuck, yeah."

In one fluid motion, he turns you around and lifts you onto the counter he was leaning against earlier.

Now that he has you pressed against him by your thighs so that your middle is pressed down on his cock, you tremble in his arms and whisper, "That took a long time."

Breathing heavily, Rick takes your chin in his calloused fingers and pulls you close to his lips again, "I'll make it worth your time, baby."

You put your hands back on the buttons of his shirt and undo one button at a time, "You called me that before."

His voice is rough with arousal, "Oh really?"

You press closer to him so your lips graze his, "Yes. In the barn you called me baby too. I thought it was a joke."

His hands slide down your thighs and his thumbs brush over your insides in such a way that you have to force yourself to focus on his words, "I didn't even realize it."

Smiling, you press your lips to his already swollen lips again and tug at the last buttons.

The bottom two give way and fly across the kitchen, and you pull his shirt over his shoulders so you can finally feel his bare skin under your fingers.

His muscles tense the closer you get to his waistband, and before you can reach for his belt, he breaks away from your lips and takes the hem of your top in his hands.

Unresisting, you raise your arms and because you hate wearing bras, Rick's gaze immediately settles on what you yourself think are your beautiful breasts, "You're going to kill me."

He immediately lowers his head to cup your nipple with his lips and you have to hold onto his shoulder to keep from toppling backwards. You can't tell he has no idea what he's doing as he takes your other breast in his hand and keeps pinching the tip as he gently bites down on the other side.

Gasping, you take a breath as Rick murmurs against your skin, "You probably don't even know how many times I've had to think about what it would be like to fuck you."

Heat moves between your legs and you try to rub against him, which isn't so easy as he plays with his breasts, driving you crazy.

He loves to feel your body react to him and he eases off your breasts to kiss your belly, letting his tongue dance across your belly button.

Gently, he places his flat hand on your chest and pushes you down until you're lying flat on the kitchen counter and he can take off your pants, including your panties.

It's not the first time a man has knelt between your legs, but with Rick it's something completely different.

Never before have you been so physically and emotionally attracted to someone as you are to him.

Sure, Ron is a nice man, but he doesn't even come close to Rick's engaging power and his attraction to you.

Your breathing is erratic and you notice your pussy tighten as his breath meets your wet center, "It's kind of pathetic that you're already this wet for me and I barely had to do anything."

He breathes a kiss on your pussy and you cry out softly, making him chuckle, "But I'm not complaining."

Rick lets his gaze slide over your body, which is sprawled out in front of him, and he knows he's the luckiest man in the world right now.

His dream girl is letting him take her on a kitchen counter and your twitching pussy is begging for him to finally bury his face between your legs.

So he slides your legs over his shoulders and follows your silent request by licking once over your wetness from bottom to top.

As he expected, your whole body rears up and he has to squeeze harder with his free hand to keep you on your back as he presses his nose to your clit and licks you the way he's wanted to do for months.

Moaning, you squirm on the table and gasp, "Rick...oh my God..."

Blindly you grab his hair and pull on it, making him moan against your pussy and as he shoves his tongue inside you, you think you're going to die of a heart attack.

His beard scratches your thighs and again you try to sit up as he hisses from his kneeling position, "If you move again, I'll stop."

When he talked to you like that when you were arguing, you hated how cocky he sounded, but in this situation it only turns you on more and you gasp, "Okay, yeah, yeah, yeah."

There he is sucking on your clit and you tighten your thighs around your head as you come trembling and moaning on his tongue.

How violently you respond to him is reward enough for him, and he reaches to unzip his pants because it's so tight he can't take it anymore.

He waits until you're lying weak as a doll on the counter only then straightens up, holding your legs on his shoulder, "Didn't you want to go back to Ron?"

He knows full well you wouldn't go in your condition, but the venomous look you give him is worth it, "You're so jealous of him."

Caught, he winces, but tries to cover it up, "Why should I? Whose cock is about to be in your pussy? His or mine?"

To emphasize his question, he tilts his head and presses his cock against your wet entrance, which makes you gasp, but still you bring out, "Because I like him."

Warningly, he pushes forward a bit and with your legs still on his shoulders, you're even tighter than you already are and he growls, "He can be your friend, but you're mine. Your pussy is mine and I swear to you he will never have you."

You try to be angry at his possessiveness, but all you can think about is the tip of his cock pressing against your pussy and you pant softly, "I don't belong to anyone. I told you that before."

Firmly he grips your throat and you tear up as he squeezes.

Not so tight that he'll cut off your air, but tight enough that you're embarrassed to admit that your pussy is twitching again and he notices, "So? How bad do you want my cock inside you?"

He doesn't want to admit that he probably wants to fuck even more badly than you do, but as he sees you squirm, he's sure he's going to get what he wants.

You try to press your butt against him so that his cock finally slides inside you, but his grip is tight and you close your eyes in defeat, "I'm yours."

Rick exhales deeply, "You always have been."

Slowly he stretches your pussy with his cock and you reach for his hand, gasping for air.

He intertwines his fingers with yours and feels like drowning as he is completely inside you.

Your grip on his fingers is surprisingly strong and he lets go of your throat to brace himself against the counter

He pulls back a little only to thrust into you again and your body rears back, "Rick...please...harder."

Rick pushes further between your legs and kisses you messily on the lips before fucking you the way he's always wanted to.

Forced to let go of your hand to hold your hips so you don't get pushed higher with each thrust, you place his hands on his cheeks instead to keep him with you and gasp hoarsely, "All I ever wanted was you, Rick. Only you."

You don't care how pathetic you sound at those words or if he's going to rip your heart out, and that's when he says something even more surprising, "I love you."

You press your breasts against his torso and allow him to kiss your neck as he is gasping over and over, "I love you. I love you so much."

You close your eyes and realize how he starts sucking on your neck, hitting the deepest point in your pussy over and over again.

Unable to do anything but moan his name, you stroke his sweaty back.

Still preoccupied with your neck he reaches for your hand and runs it over your torso, pressing it to your lower belly with his hand.

He licks over your pulse to your ear and purrs, "Can you feel how deep I am inside you? How I can ruin you?"

His cock feels so good that you keep tightening around him, whimpering softly, "I'm about to cum...Rick...I can't hold it back...please..."

With a kiss, he muffles your pitiful sounds and breathes, "It's okay, baby."

That's all you need to melt trembling beneath him, clinging to him like he's all you need.

Your pussy clamps down so hard, around his cock, that he growls, "Fuck, I need to pull out."

Panicked, you cling to his face, "No. Please don't."

A wave of arousal slips into his cock at the thought of coming inside you, but he gasps again, "You sure?"

Hectically, you nod, "Yes. Cum inside me."

Groaning, he pushes himself deeper inside you again and you feel his whole body start to shake and his cock twitch inside you.

The primitive thought of marking you like this drives him further and further, and he fucks his way through his climax before collapsing on top of you, gasping for air, and burying you underneath him.

Your sweaty bodies cling to each other and Rick struggles to push himself up so he doesn't crush you, reaching out his hand to help you up.

You watch him pull his pants over his narrow hips, but leaves them open and bends over for your clothes.

The muscles under his shiny skin move in a mesmerizing way, and as he straightens back up, you say softly, "I love you, too."

Surprised, he raises his eyebrows and you chuckle softly, "Don't act so surprised. Of course I love you. I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

The surprise drains from his face and is replaced by a grin, "Then we're not fighting anymore?"

I roll my eyes playfully, "Just because I love you doesn't mean I can't be mad at you. But right now, it's all good."

Rick bites his lower lip, "I hope you don't hit me for this, but you forgot something."

Skeptically I look at him, "And what would that be?"

Gently, he kisses you on the lips and then says softly, "I must have been fucking you for longer than 10 minutes."

Irritated, I ask, "Could be. Do you want me to praise you for that now? Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who expects a reward for lasting longer than thirty seconds."

Laughing, he shakes his head, "No, baby. Your flower boy is just outside safely waiting for you."

And that's when you think of it again.

You just left him outside and then just forgot about him.

Quickly you jump off the counter and snatch your clothes from Rick's hand, "Oh fuck."

As you get dressed, Rick leans against the kitchen counter with his shirt off and his pants still open and crosses his arms in front of his chest, "And I'm supposed to be jealous of that guy? All I had to do was stick my fingers in your mouth and you forgot he existed."

You raise a finger and wave it left and right, "It was totally inappropriate to do that."

He watches you pull your top over your head, "And you thought it was hot."

"Oh gosh," you moan, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, "I'll see you later."

Smiling, you walk to the door and he calls out, "I love you."

Quickly you turn to him again and throw him a kissing hand before disappearing to the door, "I love you too Rick."

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @acciocarlgrimes

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 🤭)

#rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #request

3K notes · View notes

lavendermage · 7 months

Text

Lost in Inazuma 10

Characters: Ayato, Thoma, Gorou, Kazuha

Genre: Sagau

TW:Blood, implied torture, sexual implications (like one sentance)

2.1k words (these keep getting longer)

AN: I’m back baby! Just started college and I feel like I’m in a rom com. My life is a joke, but an entertaining one this time. Working on another longer Childe fic. Shout out to Orah-s, I love you so much. Mwah.

“Thoma, it’s fine.” You laughed as he fussed over your outfit, layers of beautiful silk that Ayato had coaxed you into. Gold thread wove throughout the fabric in a beautiful pattern. You had tried to reject it, but he didn’t let you. This was a diplomatic meeting, he argued. You should present yourself in the best light. It remained unsaid that you only had one chance to prove your divinity, something you didn’t even fully believe. No matter how much you laughed or joked, the weight of it suffocated the room.

You had chosen people who weren’t loyal to the shogun, those who had fought her tyranny before. Beidou, Kazuha, Kokomi, Gorou. People who would believe you. People who could keep secrets. You took a deep breath.

“Goldie, are you alright?” Thoma brushed your hair out of your face.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine.” You thought for a moment before leaning into him.

“Goldie! What are you…” His arms were held out awkwardly, he seemed scared to touch you.

You sat up, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He tugged you back to him, his hand feather-light on your shoulder. It was barely enough to pull you off balance, something you could easily resist if you wanted to. You didn’t. You fell back into his warm chest. His heart beat quickly next to your ear; he must be nervous too. His hand drifted down to rest on your back. The weight was comforting. His scent tickled your nose, cinnamon and tea.

“You smell nice.” You mumbled absent-mindedly.

“Huh?”

You looked up to see his wide eyes. “What?”

“Nothing…” His face was red as he looked away. “It’s just… nothing.”

“Alright then.” You laughed before sitting up and fixing your hair.

There was a knock on the door. You shot up and looked towards the sound, even though a screen blocked the view. You could hear Ayato’s footsteps as he walked toward the door to open it.

“Welcome.”

A woman’s voice greeted him, deep and rough. Beidou. “Commissioner! Kazuha here was excited for the meeting so we arrived a bit early. Hope it doesn’t throw off the schedule.”

“Any particular reason?” Ayato asked. There was a slight edge to his words,

Kazuha spoke softly, a smile in his voice. “The wind told me there was a visitor at the estate. I was looking forward to meeting them.”

Silence, while Thoma scrambled to arrange your hair and clothes. He was quiet, but you were sure that Kazuha could hear.

Another knock at the door.

“Greetings, commissioner. This discussion seemed important, so we arrived early.” The sweet voice must have belonged to Kokomi.

“So everyone is here already.” Ayato paused. “I’ll consult the other participant.” He walked around the screen and leaned down to your ear. “Are you alright with starting early?” He asked. His hand reached out to adjust your mask but he decided against it.

You nodded. “Might as well get it over with.”

Ayato offered you his arm and you accepted. You walked out from behind the screen. The guests’ faces turned to look at you.

You bowed deeply. “Thank you for your attendance.”

Your movement seemed to make Ayato uncomfortable. “No need to bow, Goldie.” He placed a hand on your back. “Please.”

Beidou smirked. “Awfully kind of you. Is this your fiance, Commissioner?” She laughed loudly. “But he’s right. There’s no need to be so formal.”

Ayato stiffened next to you. You waited a few seconds but he didn’t seem to have a response.

You held back a laugh, surprised he was caught off guard. “No, captain. Our relationship is purely business.”

Kazuha smiled as he looked between the two of you. “This is the first time I’ve seen you at a loss for words, Kamisato.”

He coughed. “Let’s focus on the purpose of the meeting.” He gestured at the tea table at the center of the room. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

With a rustle of fabric everyone was seated. You looked around. Kazuha sat to your left and Gorou sat at your right. You and Ayato were at either end of the table. The two women sat next to their subordinates.

Gorou looked at you suspiciously. “Why do you feel the need to hide your face?”

“That’s no way to talk to them.” Kokomi chastised him before speaking to you. “I apologize. He’s a general, not a politician. I must admit, I am also a bit curious.”

“No need.” You waved off her apology. “It’s a reasonable question. I am hiding from the tenryou commission.”

Kazuha looked concerned. “Why?”

“My face.” You reached behind your head to untie the string of your mask. It fell softly into your lap. “They call me an imposter.” You felt naked with your face uncovered.

Kazuha was the first to speak. “The wind whispers about you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He bowed and pressed his lips to your hand. “I am at your service.”

You felt your face flush. “No-no need to go that far!” You glanced at the others at the table. Kokomi was deep in thought while Gorou stared at you. You felt your heartbeat quicken. “I can prove I’m not lying!”

“How?” His voice came out too fast, too harsh. Disbelieving.

You reached under your collar. There was a flash of metal. A knife. Ayato jumped to his feet. He was too far, all the way at the other end of the table. The metal glinted. Your hand shook as you brought it to your forearm. A hand grabbed yours and the knife fell. You looked up and saw Gorou.

His eyes were wide with shock. “What are you doing?!”

“Showing you proof!” Your voice shook.

“I don’t need any.”

You just stared at him. “But- if you think I’m lying…”

“It doesn’t matter whether you are the creator or not. Watatsumi Island doesn’t punish those that look like the creator.” Kokomi explained. “We view it as a blessing.”

Beidou sighed. “Most places are like that, apart from a few extreme sects. Inazuma’s archon just happens to follow one of them.”

You nodded. “So you won’t hurt me?” You hated how shaky your voice was. You hated how tears threatened to fall. Now was not the time for weakness.

Kazuha reached for your other hand and gently uncurled your fingers. You hadn't even realized that you had squeezed it into a fist. “Of course not. It is my duty to protect you.”

“Your duty?”

“I truly believe you are my god.”

“Why?” You asked. Kuki recognized that you looked like the statues, but that didn’t convince you. You had read the records. You were far from the first person to have this face. Your blood was enough proof for the Kamisatos’. Not that you understood why. You could think of several reasons for the color.

“The wind whispers about you.” He held your hand in both of his. “It sings your praises.”

“What does it say?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

"It tells of soothing teas and healing touches." He paused, “It sings of golden blood and purple scars." He tapped your bandages. "May I?"

You nodded and he carefully started to unwrap the fabric. It fell away from your arm, revealing angry purple scars that branched around your arm. He uncovered his own hand and placed it next to yours. "Electro is a particularly volatile element." He looked up. “I know what it’s like to be burned. I know what it’s like to be a criminal through no fault of your own. Please, trust me.”

“Promise.” You knew how childish the request was, but you couldn’t help yourself. You needed that reassurance. “Promise that you won’t hurt me.”

“I swear on my life.” He said, a hand over his heart.

You nodded slowly, accepting his words. You were so tired, spent from all the stress. Ayato and Kokomi lead the strategizing, while Beidou butted in every one in a while to offer advice. You stayed silent. You didn’t have the energy to participate fully. Absent-mindedly you started to stoke the blanket next to you. Maybe it was a rug. It was soft. You fought the urge to doze off.

“Gorou, you haven’t spoken in a while.” Kokomi noted. It was true, he had stayed silent for an uncharacteristically long time.

He sat straight as a pin, his eyes fixed on the table. “I-I guess so.”

“Are you nervous?” You asked, too tired to watch your words. “You look nervous.”

“Well..” He coughed. “You are petting my tail right now.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the softness by your hand. He was right. Your hand was on his tail. You quickly snatched it away as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I swear, I thought it was a blanket or something.”

He blushed. "No, it's fine."

"I thought you didn't like when people touched your tail."

"Well no… I mean usually but… this is a different situation." He said as confidently as he could.

You nodded pretending to understand. "Can I pet your ears then? They look soft." He was silent a moment too long and you opened your mouth to try to take back your words.

"Yes." He didn't look at you. He just leaned towards you slightly. You reached out and gingerly stroked his ear.

"...soft." You mumbled under your breath. You had forgotten how sensitive his ears were. He must have heard you as his cheeks started to turn pink. You heard a giggle to your right. Kazuha had heard as well.

The conversation continued. Kokomi put a hand to her chin. "Gorou and I could take you back to Watatsumi island. The shrine maidens would be honored to take care of you."

You shook your head. "That would risk war. Your island is already in a precarious situation I-" You paused, fiddling with the sleeve of your kimono. "I couldn't put your people through that again. It would be-"

A cup of tea fell to the floor with a clatter as Gorou jumped to his feet, one hand on his bow the other reaching to his quiver. "Someone is outside."

The fear was back with a vengeance. Your heart beat at your ribs, desperate to escape. You felt a hand on your shoulder. Kazuha. You could feel his breath on your ear. "I will stay by your side, your holiness." A light breeze brushed your face. You nodded, shuffling closer.

You looked over to Ayato. His face was a mask as he directed Gorou and Beidou to follow him. You shivered at his coldness. It wasn't out of character, but you had gotten used to the awkward kindness he showed you. To see him like this was - unsettling.

They slipped out of the room. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Silence that allowed your mind to run. It was interrupted by a loud thud and a scream. It was quickly cut off. There were four sets of footsteps when they came back.

Ayato dragged in a woman. Her nose was bleeding and her uniform was ripped but you recognized her. Chiyo. Ayato shoved her to the ground. There was something unsettling about the way he stood there. Silent, like still water, an ocean with no wind.

You didn't bother to put on your mask. She had seen anything there was to see. It only took a few steps to reach her, but the whole time your body was screaming at you to do something. To hit her, to run, anything. You resisted the urge and crouched down to her level. There was a hatred in her eyes you couldn't understand, so deep it threatened to drag you under as well. "Why were you watching us?" You asked, surprised by the strength in your voice.

"How dare you." She growled. "You come here with no qualifications, no references, nothing, and you get a job here. You do nothing all day and you still get treated like royalty. The Lord treats you like you hung the stars in the sky." She spit at you.

"There are circumstances you don't understand." I argued.

She leaned in, and smiled. A smile so full of hatred it sickened you. "You have the face of a god. Lord Kamisato must like it."

"Like what?"

You could feel her breath on your face as she got even closer. "He must love having someone like you in his bed."

You startled and pulled away, the heat rushing to your cheeks. You weren't sure how to respond. You glanced at Ayato.

His jaw clenched and he grabbed the woman by her collar. "Do not speak of them that way." He looked up at you. "I will bring her to the interrogation room. Will you be alright without me?"

You nodded.

Ayato left with the woman and you were alone with the guests. You felt someone tug at your hand. You turned to see Kazuha.

"You should rest."

I laughed. “And how would I do that?”

He pulled his scarf from his neck and folded it before placing it in his lap. He gestured at the make-shift pillow. “Rest your head.”

Beidou laughed behind you. “What a gentleman!”

Kazuha smiled politely at the comment. “Only if you are comfortable, of course.”

You nodded before lowering your head onto the pillow.

By the time Ayato returned you had fallen asleep. He was grateful for it. You had not slept well before the meeting and you needed your rest. There was a second, more selfish reason. He hadn’t fully gotten the blood out from under his fingernail. He couldn’t stand to show himself like that in front of you. So impure.

Tag list (interact with this if you want to be added, bolded means tumblr won't let me tag you.)

@severeoperatorhoundclod @extremelytoastybread @moratalys @cruxnova26 @thesilverarmada @irisxiel @chocogi @hellonies @milkylammy @uemiie @code-roevember @genshinimpactsme @mr-rottenflesh @estherlily @no0neshere @allblognamesaretaken13 @anxiousgrayshrimp @astra-nomical-ly @nebulabunni3 @w1s-t3r1a @kota412 @doumalove @ji-woonhaksimp @amidst-the-tempest @hellotherecumrade @jcrml @gooberq @0rah-s @frickfrackanxietyattack

Masterlist

#sagau x reader #genshin sagau #sagau #ayato kamisato #ayato x reader #gorou x reader #genshin gorou #genshin impact #kazuha x reader #sagau kazuha #sagau gorou #sagau thoma #gn reader

234 notes · View notes

firehosebvck · 7 months

Text

the dress - percy jackson

title: the dress

summary: you get an unexpected but not unwelcomed visitor while you try on your dress for your older sister's wedding.

pairing: percy jackson x f!reader

word count: 651

warning(s): none that i know of

a/n: first fic in a while and first percy fic! here we go!

The dress is beautiful, you can’t deny that. The fabric is silky, the skirt just barely touching the floor with a slit cut into it at your upper thigh, and the dark blue color reminds you of how the ocean might look on a stormy night. The body of the dress is held up by thin little straps at your shoulders, and the neck... well, let’s just say that it shows a little more of your chest than you’re used to.

Like you said, the dress is beautiful. It just... didn’t look right on you. The dress felt too tight against your skin, and there was too much of you on display, no fabric to hide your body from the eyes of anyone who looks at you. Your hands come up to your stomach, smoothing over the fabric there, and your nose scrunches at what you see in the mirror.

“There’s still time to take it back,” you tell yourself in an effort to placate your anxiety.

“Wow,” murmurs a voice from behind you. Standing in the doorway of your bedroom is none other than your friend, Percy Jackson. Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you expect his usual, easygoing smile to greet you, but the look you see isn’t at all what you’re expecting. His lips are parted, as if he wants to say something but can’t get the words out, and his eyes are roaming your dress-clad body. “That’s, uh... That’s the dress, huh?”

You sigh, your eyes falling back to your stomach. “Yeah, I just...” You pinch the fabric there, trying to maneuver it in a way that might make your stomach look not so exposed. It didn’t work. “I think I’m going to take it back. Find something else that’ll do a better job hiding this.” At this, your hands make circular gestures to your stomach.

Percy’s voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t take the dress back,” he repeats, a bit louder this time. “You look,” he stops himself mid-sentence like he’s trying to find the right word to describe how you look to him. “Gorgeous.” The slight hitch in his breath when he calls you that does something to you, something that you don’t know to describe.

You give him a sheepish smile. “Thank you, Percy.” Your eyes return to your body in the mirror. “I guess I just—it’s weird to know that people actually think I’m pretty. It’s uncharted territory, as depressing as it sounds.” You watch Percy walk toward you through the mirror, until you can feel the warmth of his body at your back. His blue-green eyes meet yours once again, but his gaze is confident, determined.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” he admits. His mouth sits just above your ear because of his height. “The inside of my head turns into one of those computer buffering memes because of you.”

The snicker of laughter escapes you before you can stop it. “Are you sure that’s not just the ADHD?”

Percy fixes you with a look of feigned irritation and lightly pinches your side for your remark. “See if I ever give you a compliment again.” A moment of comfortable silence passes over the two of you. and you notice that Percy’s expression softens into a genuine smile. “Seriously, though, Y/N. Please don’t take the dress back. It looks beautiful on you.”

You nod. “I won’t take it back.” You turn around to face him before you wrap your arms around his neck. You feel him stiffen under you, only for a moment, before he relaxes into your touch and hugs you back. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He laughs.

You don’t answer. You can’t, not really. Not after everything he’s done for you. So, you nuzzle your face further into the crook of his neck and breathe in the familiar scent of salty ocean air.

#e posts #e writes #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

189 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

milkman reader milking rootbeer cause is that time of the month

(Reader is a "farmer" rather than milkman because that's a different can of worms. Minors shoo. No outright smut, but you do milk the guy's tits and it almost gets there. Obvs warning for male lactation)

Farmer.

A nickname lovingly bestowed upon you by new neighbors and friends. You didn't have any crops, nor animals in a literal since, but you were the proud owner of the old farm house on the outskirts of their town. The place was a little run down, but livable until you had the chance to fix things up. With the price it would be good as new in no time. It was quite the shock to discover the town was full of hybrids, but the locals were all friendly and welcomed you with open arms. Especially Rootbeer.

Riley was a walking stereotype with his thick, southern accent and smooth tongue, but he had also taken a liking to you since the day you moved in. A steady flirt who was always there when you least expected it and at your door when you needed a shoulder to lean on, sometimes even when you hadn't told a soul about your problems. Brought you gifts often too such as embroideries he worked on in his shop and the occasional bottle of fresh milk. He really was nothing short of a gentleman when it came to you, and tonight was the night he'd reap the chances of his efforts.

Riley has... been avoiding you. He'd greet you just the same, but stop the conversation there. He would constantly stare at you so it's not like he was completely avoiding you, but whenever you tried to reach out he'd make an excuse of chest aches or simply leave. Even now, sitting alone on your couch, you have your messages open - unsure if you should try just one more time.

A heavy fist on your front door snaps you from that pipedream.

"Coming!" You toss you phone onto the couch as you hop to your feet and over to the door. Your visitor knocks again as you unlock the door, opening it for you. It's Riley. Out of his normal get up and in a hoodie and some old beat up jeans. There's stains on the front of his shirt, still bleeding through the fabric as he pushes you inside.

"Look, there isn't a whole lot of time for me to explain, but I really need your help. I'm real sorry for the way I've been treating you, but I didn't want to hurt you or scare you away."

You watch the growing stains on his chest, the tee constricting his muscles and lungs fighting to breath. "You're gonna have to give some explanation."

"I know- shit." He runs his fingers through his hair, tearing off the hood ill fitted to his horned scalp. "As you can clearly see, we ain't normal cows. Every couple weeks we lactate depending on diet and whatnot. That can get more frequent if we find a suitable mate and.." He stops himself. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm not able to do it myself. Please.."

It looks like he's struggling to breath, about ready to drop to his knees from the look in his eyes. You can't just leave him like this. "Okay... I'll help you out"

You lead him over to the couch before he melts into the floorboards. You help peel off his shirt and roll it over his engorged pecs. You cup your hand around his left, beads of milk leaking from his inverted nipple from the cautious touch alone. The area was red and swollen, yet his chest as a whole was soft and plump - part of the former likely being due to his vain attempts at releasing himself. You gently kneed upwards, looking up at Riley for guidance.

"You're doing fine. Feelin' a little better already. You don't have'ta do more than your comfort with." He completes with an attempt at a laugh, shoving his rolled up shirt into his mouth to make his groans as you grip his chest with firm hands. At this position, and when you're standing up, you're about chest height with him. You lean forward and circle your tongue around his untouched bub which makes his eyes pop out of his skull as his spine curves against the arm of the couch.

The milk was creamy, with that faint root taste akin to the drink he got his nickname. It tasted almost like a richer rootbeer float. Come to think of it, that's exactly what the milk he gave you tasted like. Probably should've realized that sooner. You'd get on his case about it later, but your hands and mouth were quite literally to full to bring it up.

For now, you firmly wraps your lips around his tit and suck the tender bud. Riley shifts in your hold and tries to keep a bold face. It's the first time someone's helped him with a milking.. ever, really. He tried to imagine a scene similar to this while doing it himself, but obviously no fantasy could compare to the real thing. You move into his lap for better range, erect rutting against his jeans and the curve of your ass as you work the fluid from his chest. He grips your thigh to pull you further up before you could notice, but instead you roll your hips against his as you settle directly on that spot. His teeth pierce a hole clean through his shirt as he groans.

To lessen the later cleanup, you switch sides and lap up the milk running down his torso as you work back up to his nipple. Riley collects some of your saliva as his hand travels down to the heat between his legs, slipping into his boxers just to simulate what having your mouth around his girth could feel like. It's shameful, but he doesn't care. You couldn't return to normalcy after doing something like this and he wanted all in. To hold you like he's dreamed since the day you moved in. He taps on your back at you drain the last few drops from his chest.

"Heya, Y/n? I don't want to push my luck and all, but it'd be a real big help if you could help me with another kind of milking."

#Im going to hell #yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere smut #yandere lemon #yandere hybrid #Milk farm tag

1K notes · View notes

intimacyequalsdeath · 7 months

Text

Bubz's Slasher Fictober: Day 4 Lester Sinclair (Apple Cider)

Day 3 is here! Welcome everyone to day 4 of Fictober! This fic like the previous 3 is going along the same gender neutral reader themes with no specific pronouns used though this may change in fics late in the month.

Notes: Short, Sweet and Spicy.

TW: Spicy, Minors DNI, 18+ Themes, No explicit smut but certain themes mentioned

"Are those my underwear?" You asked Lester, You had notice the fabric in his back pocket while he was leaned over the engine of his truck tinkering with a few things. Lester jumped and turned to face you.

"W-whaddya mean darlin' ?" You smirked, reaching around him and grabbing your underwear out of his pocket.

"These les" You held them up to him to see, You stepped closer to him and ran a hand up his chest to his neck, You could feel as he tensed then relaxed under your touch.

"Well I mean, I'm always out on the road all day ya know? sometimes I just need a little something to take with me" You smiled wider and stepped closer pinning nearly pinning him to the front of the truck.

Lester's hands went to your hips also mechanically as you slipped the underwear into his front pocket then brough your arms around his neck.

You pressed your lips together as Lester slipped his tongue into your mouth, He used his hands on your hips to flip the two of your around so you were the one pinned against the front of his truck as you continued to kiss.

Lester's hands moved up to grip the bottom of your shirt and bring it up over your head, then as he moved from your lips to your neck his hands worked their way down to the top of your pants going to unbutton them.

"Les, what about Bo?" You asked suddenly remembering your location outside of the gas station.

"Darlin' no offense but I don't really wanna talk about Bo right now" He said before connect his lips back to your neck as the two of you worked together to work your jeans down your legs.

"Go get in the truck darlin'" Lester said, when you turned around Lester's hand met your ass as you opened the door to the truck and climbed in, Lester followed and motioned for you to straddle his lap.

You could feel the bulge in Lester's pants as you reconnected your lips, Lester's shirt was next and his hat went with it.

A sudden knock on the window made you scream and jump further into Lester's arms. You both turned to see Bo almost falling over with laughter. Lester groaned and handed you his shirt to put on as he stepped out.

"Now what the hell was that for?" Lester asked, going to get your pants from the ground outside the truck.

"Damn I'm sorry Les I had know idea" Bo choked out between laughs. You rolled your eyes as Lester handed you yours pants and shirt from the open window.

"We get it Bo, you can relax now" You said getting out after you put your clothes back on. Bo's laughs eventually died down and he looked at the two of you.

"Well now that I've got your attention, We got visitors comin' in, the two of you need to go get em' from the road by the cabin" Lester nodded. "You two can uh , pick that back up later" He said chuckling.

"Whatever Bo C'mon les, let's go get this over with" You said wanting to get as far away from Lester's annoying older brother as possible.

#lester sinclair imagines #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax 2005 #lester sinclair x reader #Fictober #Halloween

156 notes · View notes

oblivious-idiot · 1 year

Note

you asked about lockwood & co inspiration :

maybe lockwood x reader inspired by the deleted scene with the pyjama and towel thing. i thought it was hilarious. could include some teasing bc of anthony‘s color choice

Heart patterned pyjamas

A/n: Ahh thank you so much for this!! I love this idea so much omg, hopefully you like it!! 🧡 Warnings: mild swearing, but mainly fluff Word count: 5oo Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

After a late night on a case with the team, you head up to your room to take a shower. You were absolutely covered in soot and dirt as always so it was nice to finally get clean and wash away all the thoughts from case. It was the early hours of the morning still, so everyone was so exhausted and ready to sleep before you all even walked through the front door.

You put your radio on while you shower, one of Lockwood’s favourite songs starts playing - it was a song by The Cure, which makes you smile to yourself as you thought about his stupid cocky smirks he sends you all the time, or the way he clutches onto your hands to make sure you’re okay after battling Visitors.

Once you finished your long, much needed shower you step back into your room, just as you realise you forgot to bring your clean laundry and pyjamas upstairs. “Shit” you mutter to yourself, really hoping the boys are in bed by now so they don’t have to see you in just a towel, having to stop yourself from blushing at the thought of Lockwood’s face.

Silently you creep down the stairs to the kitchen, your bare feet slightly sticking to the wooden floor boards and your hair dripping onto your shoulders. As you enter the kitchen, your eyes immediately meet with Lockwood’s, who’s just casually sat drinking a cup of tea in his pink button up pyjamas.

“Sorry I-, I forgot to grab my pyjamas from the dryer” you say to him, trying not to laugh at his appearance “nice er, pyjamas Anthony”

“Thanks!” his face lighting up, looking at you and only just fully realising what you’re wearing - which is very little. “Nice… towel” his gulp audible as he pulls his eyes away from you as you kneel by the dryer. Heat rises to your cheeks when he comments on your appearance, quickly grabbing onto your warmed clothes.

You look over to him and notice that his pyjamas have small embroidered patterns on them, and you can’t stop yourself from walking over to him and touching the fabric on his collar, surpressing a snigger from your lips. “You know Lockwood, I never saw you as the kind of guy to wear baby pink pyjamas, let alone ones with hearts on them.” His face visibly turning red from the fact that not only are you stood so close with your hand on his shirt, but also from seeing you in just the towel, hair still dripping. “The pink really brings out the rosy colour in your cheeks” you add with a chuckle before giving his nose a little boop and leave him in the kitchen.

George was, of course, stood in the kitchen doorway the whole time, and when he catches Lockwood’s eye from across the kitchen he just sighs and laughs. Lockwood looks at him as if nothing weird just happened “What?” “Nice towel? really??” George replies, shaking his head in bewilderment.

(I know Lockwood doesn't technically have hearts on his pyjamas, I just thought it would be funny to add it in!)

#allie writes #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co imagines #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle #george karim #lockwood #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you

795 notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

Text

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter two of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (once or twice), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. Reader is described as being "curvy." I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist

Chapter 1

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

1934 Philadelphia

The subtle scratch of your pencil against the smooth page of the sketchbook filled your quiet bedroom. One look at the ticking clock on your bedside table stated that it was past midnight, but you didn't care. The dark circles under your eyes the next morning were well worth it, tiredness forgotten as the haze of creativity dulled the weariness of the day you'd had.

It was your fifteenth birthday, and although your parents had thrown you a lavish party to prove that the y/l/n family had not been touched by the destruction of the depression and were not concerned with the horrors of war overseas, there was only one person that you wanted to be there.

Ben wasn't of course. He was still at boarding school number five, and you imagined that a number six was already in order, given his track record.

You smile to yourself when you think of your best friend. You hadn't seen him in two months, not since you walked with him to the train station and he tried to act like he didn't care that his father was sending him away again, but you knew he did.

The things that Ben's father said and did to him made anger surge behind your ribcage. You didn't understand how his father could be so callous, so uncaring. You also hate that it drove Ben to drink, though Ben didn't seem to drink quite as much when you were around, because he knew that you didn't like it.

The party would have been more entertaining if he was there. Yes he did tend to get drunk and flirt with whatever walked past him, but he always had a way of cheering you up. And he had a wonderful knack for keeping your mother at a distance, who prayed that Ben would stay away from you, but never did.

If he was there your mother wouldn't have hovered over you all night, slapping away your hand every time you tried to take a piece of cake or hiss something at you when you pulled at the itchy pink dress that she brought home three days ago, your least favorite color. When you got dressed for the party you felt like a porcelain doll in a China cabinet, made to be looked at, but never touched.

It wasn't too far off. Being the only daughter of one of the richest families that lived in Philadelphia your reputation and pedigree were two of the most important things to your mother. It meant that in a few years you would be married off to another rich family, have rich babies, and then put your own daughter through the same cycle of hell all over again.

Suitors were already beginning to trickle into your life, sons of your father’s business partners each screened by your mother before the introductory meetings where you felt bored, stiff, choked by the thick fabric of the dresses your mother picked out, and plastered with makeup. All of course the best of Europe, which you had no idea how your mother managed to get given that there was a war on.

Ben was the only thing in your life that wasn't planned and you loved him for it.

You look up at the dark corner of your room to get a view of the long shadows that creep along the bedroom floor, and cut through the light coming from the gas lantern on your bedside table. You try to distinguish the sharp edges and smooth curves and watch them take shape beneath the ministrations of your pencil against the page.

Art was your only escape, the only thing you did that your mother approved of.

"A proper lady should have a hobby." She had sniffed, but then narrowed her eyes at the graphite and ink stains on you hands.

Part of the fun is the mess. You had thought to yourself watching her disapproving look.

A tap on your window makes you lift your gaze from the page and look towards the window seat that faces out the third story of your home onto the street below.

Ben is crouched there on the ledge that juts out only a foot from the outer brick wall a wide smile on his face that you can't help but return. You had been friends since you were both eight, when your parents threw yet another party and you found Ben in one of the side rooms trying to avoid his father. When his father tried to come in to find him, you lied and said you hadn't seen Ben.

And when his mother died two years later, Ben would show up some nights, scaling the large tree outside your window to stay with you. He never wanted to talk about it and you never asked, instead you talked about everything else until you both fell asleep.

You felt your heart thud loudly in your chest and a familiar warmth tracing lightly against your skin when you lock eyes with him. It was hard to be in love with your best friend. But you were, and you couldn't tell him. You didn't want to ruin the only meaningful relationship you'd ever had in your life. Ben knew everything about you, you trusted him and you couldn't imagine what it would be like to live your life without him, didn't want to.

Sometimes you hoped he felt the same way. When you woke up before him in the morning and the light from the window made his hair lighter and he held you close to his chest because in his sleep he had wrapped his arm around you. You liked to pretend that he did it on purpose, not just because there was barely any room between the two of you in your bed because now you both weren't as small as you used to be. You don’t know when Ben got so broad, tall, and muscular, but now it was impossible to ignore, especially being pressed against his chest when you woke.

It was improper to be that close in bed together of course, but you didn't care. You didn't care what other people thought about him or you. He was your best friend, and although you wished for more, you wouldn't turn your back on him just because other people thought he was trouble.

Which he was.

You put your sketchbook down and go to the window to unlock it. "Ben what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't miss your birthday." He smirks as you take his hand to help him into your bedroom.

"What about school?"

"Wasn't a good fit." Ben pushes his dark hair out of his eyes and you try not to think about what it would be like to do it yourself.

"Uh-huh. What you're really saying is that you flunked out of another boarding school just to make it back for my birthday. Right?" You laugh.

"Thought it would be a nice birthday surprise." He leans forward with a smirk. "Would you like to unwrap your present?"

You roll your eyes and raise a hand to push him back, but he catches it against his chest.

"Come on. You're telling me that you didn't miss me? Not even a little?" Ben pretends to be hurt.

Of course you missed him. When he wasn't there it felt like apart of you was gone, but you couldn't tell him that. You knew that Ben didn't feel the same way. He was just flirty, all the time.

"No."

"Liar." He says. "How was the big party?"

"Oh it was the bee's knees." You snark. "I danced with Howard Stine and he stepped on my toes, my mother didn't let me eat and bought me a ridiculous dress-"

"Let me guess, pink?"

"Pink and ruffly. I looked like a giant cupcake."

"I'm sure Howard loved it." Ben sing-songs.

"Shut up." You punch his arm. "He's not that bad-"

"With a boring name like Howard, imagine how boring he'd be in-"

"Big talk from a guy named Benjamin." You interrupt.

The look in Ben's eyes darkens for a minute. "I'd be happy to prove you wrong."

You shake your head at him to stop the flush in your cheeks and avoid the way your breath catches in your chest at his words.

It would be so easy to give in to him, but you knew that Ben didn't see you that way. Ben had chased after anything and everything that caught his eye. If you were to give in, you were afraid of what would happen after. Ben was your best friend and if you crossed that line what would it mean?

"You're incorrigible."

"If that's another word for gorgeous then yes, yes I am."

You turn back to the bed and where your sketchbook waits, trying to calm your racing heart.

"But you don't want your birthday present?" Ben asks from behind you.

"What happened to you being the present?"

"I am a gift, but I did get you something."

You turn and see that Ben is holding out a package wrapped in gold paper a little bit larger than a book. Surprise momentarily spikes at the back of your mind. Ben had gotten you gifts in the past, but you hadn't expected one this year, especially since he just got out of boarding school.

"Did you steal it?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Not this time."

You take the box from his hand and sit down on your bed to peel back the paper. "I can't believe you actually wrapped this."

"The saleswoman did. Now she was really-"

"Don't need to know." You shake your head with a smile, eyes still on the gift. When you finally pull back the paper you can't help but smile. It's a box of watercolor paints, a package of brushes, and a small pad of watercolor paper. "Ben-" You look up at him with a wide smile. "Thank you!"

"Do you like them?" Ben asks hesitantly, he looks almost nervous.

"I love them! I've never tried to paint before."

"I know. I remember said you wanted to try. Plus I thought you could do some nice nudes of me in color-" Ben smirks.

"Ben!" You snort.

“I’m just trying to help you learn how to draw anatomy.” He wets his lips with his tongue arching an eyebrow in a challenge. “Of course there are more fun ways that I could teach you that.”

“Ben!” You flush bright red.

“Sorry. Sometimes you’re too easy.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you.” You shake your head at him with a smile.

An odd look crosses his face, but it disappears as quickly as you see it.

"Honestly, thank you. I can't wait to try these out." You look back down at the paints, admiring the silver box they came in.

"You're welcome."

Ben hovers by the window at the edge of your room as if debating whether or not he should stay. After all these years you noticed that Ben had trouble with the idea that you genuinely wanted him there. You knew it stemmed from his father's constant disapproval and his father's constant need to push him away, and it made your heart break for him.

And yes, maybe Ben did fill his life with brief flings and alcohol, but he was still your Ben.

"You’re going to stay right? Because you’ve already missed my birthday and I’d like to know how you got kicked out of boarding school number five.”

He nods once a small smile quirking the edge of his lips before he removes the dark jacket with the embossed prestigious logo of the aforementioned boarding school. It catches on his shoulders and you look away before he can see your blush.

“Are you hungry?”

Ben shakes his head.

“Ben, when was the last time you put something in your stomach besides alcohol?” You raise an eyebrow. He couldn’t lie to you and you knew he was only saying no because he didn’t want you to have to creep downstairs in the dark and also because he didn’t want to admit that he was hungry.

“Earlier.” He says it with a shrug, looking down at the coat in his hands to avoid your gaze.

“Well I was going to go see if I could find some of that birthday cake anyway. I haven’t eaten since this morning and all I had was half a grapefruit.”

“Another diet?” Ben frowns.

“Mother thinks I can slim down a little more. Says that I’d get more suitors if my hips were not so big.” You try not to dwell too much on it, you’d been dealing with your mother’s constant berating since you were born. The corset you’d worn at the party was so tight that it left bruises on your hips and under your arms, but your mother had been pleased with how it looked. “She won’t be happy until I’m thinner than a chicken bone I suppose.” Instead of looking at Ben you stand and turn to look at yourself in the full length mirror in the corner. You never thought that your hips were too big or that your chest was, yes you were more curvy than any of your friends but you liked it.

"You shouldn't listen to her."

You shrug.

"I'm serious y/n. You're-" Ben stops talking.

"What?" You turn to look at him again eyes wide and open.

"Well you're-" Ben looks nervous again, tightening his hands on the dark jacket. He swallows. "You're not fat." Ben finishes.

"Well I don't think I'm fat Ben, but thank you." You can't help but be a little disappointed with his answer, you were hoping that he would say that you were beautiful.

My mother thinks I’m fat. You try not to wince when you think it, but instead you focus back on Ben.

"Alright, stay here. Try not to wake my parents up."

"Trust me that's the last thing on my mind doll."

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

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. :)

Taglist: @roseblue373

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys fanfic #soldier boy #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys series

114 notes · View notes

shadeysprings · 1 year

Text

The Princess of Asgard

—Loki x F!Reader

Summary: Your supposed vacation on Asgard takes an unexpected turn.

Warnings: kidnapping, non-consensual arranged marriage, betrayal & violence.

A/N: Written for @lokisgoodgirl as they've been wanting some Dark!Loki recently. Ngl, I do miss writing him. Un-beta so may be meh.

Your feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated. Support Content Creators! And I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

The tears continue streaming down your face as you stare at your reflection in the vast mirror hanging on the wall. The emerald gown you were forced to wear shimmers beautifully against the light of your chambers and you wish you could appreciate such a delicate garment, to bask at the regality being laid upon your feet.

But you can’t, not even a shred of happiness can be found within, for such gifts have come with a price, one you know deep down you cannot pay.

You blame your naivety, for it’s what brought you into your situation in the first place. The excitement burst from you when Thor and his brother, Loki, invited you to see their home. The stories of Asgard have held a vice on you since you were young, mesmerized at how beautiful the images scholars painted of a place they’ve never seen before. And being given that opportunity, to witness what no one else on earth has, was too irresistible not to take.

“What are you wearing?” Loki asks upon seeing you when you open the door, his eyes trailing down your body before stopping at your face.

“Oh, am I underdressed?” You ask, looking down at the graphic tee and canvas shorts you put on that morning. “I just thought of dressing light since it’s summer here.”

“Not at all, darling.” He smiles before ushering himself into your room along with a stout middle-aged woman with stacks of fabric nestled in her arms. “But I was thinking you would dress like an Asgardian during your stay here.”

The woman, who Loki introduces as Thyra, lays the assortment of fabric on the foot of your bed, dresses of silk and satin, looking delicate to the touch. You look up at Loki, eyes wide in disbelief and awe.

“Take your pick.” He instructs but nears the emerald dress all the same and runs his fingers against its skirts. “But I personally think you would look good in this.”

You scan the garments, the gold and beige sitting idly on the mattress, both in the same cut and style. Only the emerald dress stands out from the bunch, looking regal and elegant. But regardless of his suggestion, your eyes still land on the beige, hand reaching over to caress the silk before taking it.

“But this would look more in season, don’t you think?” You tell him, a smile playing on your lips. He smiles back but you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Though after that morning, the dresses presented to you were all of the same color, emerald fabrics dancing against the lights of your room, leaving you no choice but to wear the green thrust upon you.

Your first week on Asgard was spent touring the palace and the outer grounds, Loki always at your side, arm intertwined with yours as he introduced you to his friends, along with the other lords and ladies in Thor’s court. A feast was even thrown in your honor, and even if you found the extravagant event fun and entertaining, the way you were regarded by royals and commoners alike threw you off guard.

But it didn’t stop there. Even after the feast, people bowed at your wake and called you princess, the title off-putting considering you were not close to such status, a mere civilian and average citizen on earth.

You thought they were doing so to show respect to the king and the prince’s visitor, but that one-morning exchange with Thyra, when she entered your room without your permission and started laying out a dress on the top of your bed, told you otherwise.

“It’s unheard of in all the realms for a princess to dress herself.” Thyra says in disbelief when you try to dismiss her. “I would not want the prince to scold me for not doing my work accordingly.”

“Oh—but I’m not a princess.” You tell her with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Not yet.” She simply responds before bending low and turning to leave.

And that chance encounters with Lord Fandral as you walked through the corridors of the palace alone.

“Are you lost, princess?” He asks.

You don’t understand why you’re being addressed as such. Is it customary to give visitors of the royals such titles?

With your brain too muddled with errant thoughts, you choose to brush it off and ask Loki later why they are treating you as such, you give the golden lord a smile and ask him where you can find the kitchen.

“I’d be happy to escort you, princess.” Lord Fandral says with a smile as he offers his hand for you to take.

As the days turn into weeks, the once magnificent palace felt all too suffocating; with Thyra’s constant insistence to serve you, the whispers you heard from the servants as you walked past them, and most of all, Loki’s indifference each time you asked him why you are being treated in such a weird way.

Until that day, all the answers were finally laid at your feet.

“Darling, Thyra has told me that—what are you doing?”

You don’t spare Loki a glance, irritation filling your senses as you pack all your things. “I’m leaving. I thought visiting Asgard would be great but things here are just fucking weird.” You spit, shoving your clothes in your duffel but stopping when Loki places a hand over your bag.

“You will do no such thing.” He says and you scowl up at him, but your anger shifts into curiosity, and your spine shivers when you see the seriousness in his emerald eyes. “You’re not to leave Asgard until I say so.”

“Why?!” You push his hand away and try to grab your bag but he latches onto the strap, pulling it completely from your grasp, and throws it on the ground. “What the fuck?! You can’t keep me here, Loki! I’m telling Thor and you won’t be welcomed back to the compound!”

“Go on then. He’s in the throne room right now.” He says, moving away and gesturing to the door. But the tone of his voice, calm and resolute, has fear crawling up your skin.

Yet still, you push on and walk past him, marching yourself through the halls as you try to navigate your way. You sense Loki following behind, but give him no mind, though once you find yourself lost, his chuckle resounds in your ear and you stiffen when his hand rests at the small of your back and whispers, “Just through here, darling.”

He leads you through a set of double doors and you look ahead to see Thor sitting on the throne, Mjolnir laying inanimate at his feet while addressing the people surrounding him.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, dismissing his subjects when you march up to him. But the friendly smile fades when you stomp up the steps, a frown playing on his lips. “My lady, you seem to be in distress.”

“Hell yeah, I am.” You almost shout, pointing an accusing finger at Loki who stops at the foot of the steps. “Your brother is being an asshole. He said I can’t leave Asgard without his permission.”

Thor looks startled at your words, eyes shifting to his brother and then to you. “But why would you leave Asgard when you’re to be wed?”

You stiffen at the word. Wed? What does he mean? Your eyes dart to Loki who casually stands by the steps before climbing up toward you. He reaches for your hand but you quickly pull away, your eyes focused on him before looking at Thor who stands from his seat.

“Have you not told her, brother?” Thor asks, but his eyes remain on you.

“Told me what?!” You respond in a rush, panic rolling through your veins.

“I was supposed to while we ate breakfast but she banished her handmaiden and I caught her packing her things.”

Thor sighs but chuckles after. “Loki, you know midgardians are more unrefined in these situations than us.”

“I took your word into account, brother. Thought I would break it to her gen—”

“What the fuck are you both talking about?!” You shout, anger and fear mixing within you. “What the hell is happening?! What are you not telling me?!”

“Do you want to tell her or should I?” Thor asks his brother and Loki simply grins, giving a solemn bow to his brother. Thor faces you, blue eyes serious yet full of mirth. “You’ve accepted my brother’s gifts, have you not?”

“Gifts?”

“The dress.” He waves a hand in your direction and you look down at the green silk hanging from your shoulders. “You wear his colors, you’ve accepted his invitation to come home with him. Your chambers, adjacent to the prince’s, and a handmaiden for you to use as you please. Each one deserving of a princess.”

“But—” You stammer and shake your head. They can’t be gifts, you never even thought them to be; simply thinking that everything was part of Asgardian culture and you were not one to question their way of life. “I didn’t know they were gifts. I thought they—”

“I thought you were a smart girl but you’ve proved me wrong, little one.” Thor laughs and waves to his brother. “Enlighten her with the situation, we can’t have a scene played before the court on the day of the wedding.”

“But what if I decline?” Your voice trembles as you speak, body shaking as everything starts to make sense; why everyone calls you princess, Loki’s looming presence, and Thyra forcing you to wear the dresses instead of putting on the ones you brought with you. “I should get to decide, shouldn’t I?”

“But the decision has already been made,” Loki rebuts and you take a step back when he steps closer. “And it is seen as treason and punishable by death to go against the will of the royal family.”

You blink slowly, the air leaving your lungs as you try to process all the information that has just been said. You can’t get married, Loki may be handsome but you have no feelings for him. You feel betrayed, played with, and the pain feels too overwhelming as you saw the brothers to be your friends.

Why would they trick you? What have you done to merit such devious intent?

“It will be easier once you’ve had some food in you, darling.” Your eyes meet Loki’s when he stands close to you, his hand wrapping around your arm, thumb gently caressing your skin. “And realize that being my wife would be the best thing that has ever happened to you.”

You don’t want to agree. What the hell do they know about what’s best for you and what’s not? But you don’t fight back, instead, you nod and allow Loki to take your hand, bowing your head to Thor before following his brother out of the vast throne room.

But as soon as you pass by the doors, the guards closing them at your wake, you stomp down on Loki’s foot and clench your fists before thrusting it towards his neck, making the god stumble back while he chokes.

You don’t waste any more time and run as fast as you can, sprinting through the halls and staggering down the stairs. Several servants squeal in shock at your wake but you give them no mind, set on finding your way out of the palace and towards the bridge that you once crossed when you arrived.

Several footsteps stomp behind you and you push further, urging yourself to run faster. You can hide in the forest once you leave the palace and plan from there. All you want now and all you can do is get away from Loki and his brother and hope that you can find someone to help you and take you back home.

But you grunt when something solid catches your waist, your back pressing hard against a surface that you soon realize is someone’s chest. You try to pull away, clawing on the arm that restrains you to set yourself free, but you whimper when you feel the edge of a blade pressing against your neck, tilting your head back to avoid being cut.

“I will not be insulted by your insolence, darling.” Loki drawls against your ear. “I have been very patient with you, I have been kind. You do not want to test these waters only to end up drowning.”

“Please, Loki.” You cry and hiss when he breaks the skin, the metallic tang of your blood wafting in the air. “Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends.”

He chuckles and you let out a breath when the blade leaves your neck. But such reprieve is lost when his fingers wrap around your throat, his nose trailing down your temple and to your cheek then pressing a soft kiss against your skin.

“Well, darling,” He breathes, feeling rather than seeing his grin. “You thought wrong.”

Quickly, you wipe your tears away when you hear the door of your room open. You keep still, hearing soft footsteps pad through the open room and into the bedchamber, your body going stiff when you see Loki’s reflection in the mirror and resting his hands on your shoulder.

“I hope those are happy tears, darling.” He says as he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “Today is a joyous day and I expect nothing but.”

You stay silent, unsure how to respond for you feel the opposite of happy. You’re trapped, kidnapped, into a foreign land, and betrayed by the people you’ve spent years who you trusted, and depended on to keep you safe.

Your eyes then shift to the side when Loki holds up a necklace with an emerald crystal hanging by the chain. He takes the liberty of clasping the chain around your neck, whimpers leaving your lips when his hand grazes the tops of your breasts, his finger caressing the jewel that sits on your cleavage.

“A beautiful present for my bride.” He whispers, the words stabbing your chest and you can’t help the tears from spilling once again. His brow furrows, turning you from the mirror to face him and you look down when he cups your cheek. “What’s the matter, darling? Do you not like it?” He asks. “I can get you another one, a bigger one if that’s what you want.”

“I want to go home.” You blurt out and cover your face as you sob against your palms. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

Loki then pinches your chin, making you wince and you drop your hands to your sides when he lifts your head and forces you to face him. A breath catches in your throat as you’re once more filled with fear, seeing his green eyes glow dangerously and the mischievous smirk forming on his lips.

“But darling,” He breathes, “You are home.”

I no longer keep a tag list but if you want to be kept updated on my fics, follow my side blog @springdandelixn-archives and turn on notifications.

#loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #dark loki #dark!loki #dark fic #mcu #au #the princess of asgard

453 notes · View notes

kiss-theggoat · 10 months

Note

could you please please please do a part 3 for ‘think i’ll keep you’ with bo? maybe the reader gets in trouble making bo jealous talking to vincent or something and goes back to the basement ?

A/N: Sorry for the wait!! I decided to change it a little and have the reader talk w a visitor instead, I hope that’s okay. I hope you like this!! (Picture unrelated but wowowowow he’s hot)

Think I’ll Keep You Pt.3

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When a new group comes into town and you decide to flirt it up with one of the guys, Bo decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

TW: Violence, Smut, Oral (M receiving), Spitting, Bo hits reader, Use of slut, whore, bitch, etc.

With a sigh, you flipped through the page of the same magazine you’d read four times today. Bo said he’d get you some books the next time he made it to a different town, but until then, you had a very limited amount of media to consume. Bored out of your mind, you decided to go pester Bo. You sauntered to the garage, seeing his legs stick out from under Lester’s truck.

You grabbed his boots, trying with the shoelaces. Music played in the background, not really loud enough to keep him from hearing your entrance, but he still didn’t react to you coming in. “Bo.” You said softly. No response. You slid your hands beneath the fabric of his coveralls, touching his calves with whisper-soft finger tips. “Bo…” you said again, twisting some of his leg hair.

He hissed in pain, yanking his leg away from you. “Hell do ya want?!” He yelled, frustration very clear in his voice.

“I’m bored.” You tugged at his coveralls again.

He slid out from beneath the truck, looking at you with an annoyed expression. “And what do you want me to do about it, darlin’?”

You shrugged, smiling at him, hands running up his calves and to the inside of his knees. “I dunno…” you said softly, but he knew exactly what you were up to.

“Believe me, honey, I’d love to give ya what you want. But Lester saw some kids near Ambrose this mornin’ and I gotta get the truck up an’ runnin’ again before they get into town.”

You perked up at the idea of another group coming to Ambrose. This would be your second time dealing with outsiders, and you’d already been in Ambrose about three months. You guessed that Bo didn’t have to deal with them too often, but it was exciting. A change of pace. You nodded quickly. “I’ll go tidy up the station!”

Bo smiled a little bit. You’d slowly started to develop a slight southern drawl, which he thought was cute, but he’d never say it out loud.

Not even twenty minutes later, whilst you had taken your place back at the counter, rereading the same magazine again, Bo leaning against the counter to wipe his hands, you heard the bell above the door jingle, making you turn. You saw a group of four guys and two girls. A bigger group than usual, which honestly did make you pretty nervous. You knew that Bo could handle his own, and he had the help of his brothers, but the thought of him getting hurt was not one that you welcomed.

You listened carefully as Bo went through his usual spiel. ‘No fan belt, come back to the house’ yada yada yada. You remembered back to months ago when it was you standing in front of the predator, not knowing that you’d be his prey. As you looked over, you saw one of the girls giving Bo that same look you’d given him months ago. The look of admiration, attraction. Lust. Even though she was on the arm of another man, she stared up at him, batting her stringy, mascara covered lashes.

A fire started in your belly. Bo was yours. Ambrose was your home now, and there was no way she was going to take him away from you. You worried that, if Bo chose her over you, he’d have no choice but to get rid of you. You hoped that you’d grown close enough that he would never do that, but with Bo, anything was possible.

“Just gimme a second to clean up and we’ll head down to the house.” Bo said, smiling at the group and turning around to grab another blue paper towel to clean more oil from his grimy hands.

The group began to scatter, looking around leisurely at everything in the station. The look on their faces gave away the fact that they did not like being in Ambrose, one of the girls wiping some dust off a shelf with her finger. You’d worked hard to clean up the buildings around town, make it seem more inviting, but there’s only so much you can do with a town that’s constantly getting caked in dust and baked in the sun.

You stared daggers at the girl who’d flirted with Bo, even though she was facing away from you, staring out the adjacent window. Her boyfriend, however, turned and made his way towards you. Jackpot.

You put on a smile and folded the magazine shut, giving him your full attention. “What can I do for ya folks?” You asked, exaggerating that developing drawl. You needed to fit in here as much as possible when a group was in town. He smiled and put his hands on the counter, “Well would you look at that? Finally something nice to look at here.”

Bold. “Thank you.” You said softly as you put your chin in your palm, staring up at him through your lashes. If she flirts with your man, it's only fair that you flirt with hers, right? “What brings y’all to town?”

“Just a regular road-trip. We decided to take a different route. Genius back there thought it’d be a shortcut, but now because of the car troubles…it’s gonna be an extra day.”

“That’s terrible!” You frowned, placing your hands on one of his, holding it in sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re havin’ trouble.”

Bo walked out, rag in hand. His eyes immediately shot to your hands, rage turning his face red and the muscles of his jaw pulsing as he clenched it. You stared back at him. For a second, you were terrified, but then, you were angry. When that girl flirted with him, he didn’t discourage her. You turned back to the man. “My boss Bo will take great care of y’all.”

If Bo was a cartoon, steam would’ve come out of his ears. His hat would’ve blown off. He would’ve turned as red as a tomato. Anger bubbled to his chest and it took everything in him to stop himself from getting over to you. He slapped a hand on the shoulder of the man whose hands you held tight, causing you both to jump a little. “Let’s head up to the house.” He said. As you inspected his face, you knew you were in for it. The man smiled at you and then walked away. When Bo knew you were out of his sight, he grabbed your arm and yanked you forward. “Get your ass downstairs and don’t move. If I catch ya up here when I get back, you won’t leave the basement again. You hear me?” He hissed, lips pulled back in an angry snarl.

Your blood went cold. You nodded quickly, looking down. You heard his boots thud as he walked away, and as you walked to the basement, you could only hope that he’d take his anger out on the kids in town, and not you.

It’d been hours. You had chewed all your fingernails off, paced around the room probably a hundred times, hummed every song you could remember, and psyched yourself into almost having a panic attack. Your heart was pumping, and finally, you heard the door of the gas station open above you. You were sitting crisscrossed in the basement chair, curled up and imagining the worst.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it as Bo stormed towards you. You jumped, backing up further into the chair, hoping it would absorb you completely. He was covered in blood, some of it his. His nose was bleeding, lip bloody, and a cut on his cheek. You couldn’t focus much on his injuries as you got one of your own, his hand tight enough around your arm to bruise you as he yanked you off the chair and onto the floor.

You knelt before him, feeling puny as he stared down at you with disgust. He tangled his hand in your hair, yanking your head closer to his crotch.

“You think you can be a little whore in public and get away with it?” His free hand went to the zipper of his bloody coveralls, quickly peeling them off to reveal a pretty sizable wound on his side, also leaking blood into his white undershirt. “Embarrassin’ me with that filthy mouth.”

The hand that was in your hair trailed down your face and to your lips, shoving his thumb between them. As you sucked his skin, you cringed at the taste of oil, dirt, and blood, the grimy copper sitting heavy on your tongue and teasing your gag reflex. Bo shoved his coveralls down his thighs, barely far enough to get to his underwear.

“A slut like you just talk to any guy she sees…maybe you deserve to stay down here.” He spat, the vein in the side of his neck bulging with anger. You had no idea that flirting with someone for a couple minutes would get you in this much trouble.

He slid his underwear down far enough for his cock to spring free, standing at attention directly in front of your face. You reached out and wrapped a hand around the base, but that earned you a harsh slap to the side of the head. Your ears rang, but not loud enough for you to miss what he said. “Did I fuckin’ say you could touch me, whore?”

You shook your head quickly, hands at your sides and tears welling in your eyes. He shoved his thumb into your mouth once more and pushed your jaw down, forcing your mouth open wide. “Hands on your thighs. You don’t move unless I say.”

You nodded quickly, not breaking eye contact, eager to please him. He wrapped both hands up in the hair at the back of your head, pulling you forward onto his cock. He stared down at you and watched as he disappeared into your mouth, but you weren’t enjoying this as he was. Your jaw already ached, lips stinging from the stretch and as he shoved himself down your throat, you gagged, throat constricting around him. He groaned at the feeling, and you knew you were in trouble.

There was no warning. He pulled your head back, and just when you thought he may give you a break, he started to thrust into your mouth, just as he usually would, hitting the back of your throat each time. Your hands gripped the fabric of your shorts for dear life as you gagged around him, struggling to take a complete breath without being cut off by his cock.

Tears flowed down your cheeks, face turning red and drool dripping down the bottom of your chin onto your chest. Bo was transfixed. He thought you’d never looked hotter, choking and gagging on him, face a mess and eyes looking up at him like they were pleading. He leaned his head back and moaned, hands clenching around your hair. You let out a whine at the pain, your scalp burning.

His cock slammed against the back of your throat, you scrunched your eyes shut in focus, trying hard to take deep breaths through your nose and try not to gag. The gagging hurt your throat and made your stomach turn, but it was unavoidable.

“Holy shit…” Bo groaned, “Maybe I should keep ya down here…tied up for when I want ya… sluts like you are better sucking dick than anything else…” he struggled to speak, voice breathy and interrupted by moans. You were relieved to hear that his moans were getting higher in pitch. You knew he was close.

Bo held onto your hair like a lifeline, and with a final thrust, he yanked your face as far down as it’d go, your nose squished against his stomach. He came down your throat with a moan, the feeling made you gag around him, struggling to breathe and swallow around him. Without thinking, you moved your hands to his thighs to brace yourself, tapping one quickly. You needed air desperately, feeling a little lightheaded. He slowly pulled you off of him, and you started to cough, drooling down your chin and chest, nose running and mixing with your tears. You panted and coughed on all fours, eyes closed and throat aching.

Bo grabbed your hair again, gentler this time, making you face him. “You belong to me.” He said quietly. Something about his tone was different. It was sexual. It wasn’t even that possessive. He sounded scared. And he was. He would never tell you, but the thought of you leaving him just like his mom and dad did killed him. So much so that he’d do anything to keep you in Ambrose.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #bo sinclair fanfiction #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax fanfiction

174 notes · View notes

flightlessangelwings · 7 months

Text

Ktober 2023 Day 3- Exhibitionism

Bishop Losa x fem!reader

Word count- 1.2k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, public sex, hint at a bj,dirty talk, praise kink, cum eating, reader wears short shorts and a low cut top, no use of y/n

Notes- I had SO much fun writing this one y'all have no idea! And it was something a little different for me too! Prompt list made by me. Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

“Nice shot, baby,” Bishop purred as you sank another ball in the net.

The two of you played pool in the clubhouse while everyone else gathered and drank and laughed. Angel and Coco played darts in the corner, and they squabled like siblings when each thought the other was losing. Visitors from other chapters of the Mayans filled the clubhouse, and everyone was having a great time.

But all Bishop could focus on was you. How sexy you looked when you bent over the pool table to take your shot. How your brow furrowed in concentration, your determination to beat him apparent on your face. How your breasts started to spill out of your top. How your shorts were just short enough to show a little hint of asscheck, something Bishop always loved.

Vaguely, you were aware of Bishop's heavy gaze on you, but you were too focused on your shot to put your full attention to. You cursed under your breath when you missed your next shot, but when you turned to him next to you, your heart pounded in your chest. Sweat lined your brow, and it wasn’t just from the heat inside the space.

Bishop eyed you up and down with a smirk on his face, “Baby you’re so fuckin’ sexy when you care about a stupid game of pool like that,” his tone was low as he sauntered towards you, closing the space between your bodies and settling slightly behind you.

“Bish,” you couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped your lips as he caressed your hips and pressed his body against yours. But, as he grasped your ass, giving it a little smack, you let out a low moan that would have caught the attention of anyone nearby if it weren’t for a roar of laughter that erupted at the same time.

“I bet I could fuck you with my fucking fingers right here and no one would notice,” Bishop groaned into your ear as he nibbled on your neck and a hand dripped under the hem of your shorts.

“You what?!” you were caught off guard by his words. But, as he tickled your pussy every so slightly, you found any care you might have had vanished.

“Do you want me to, baby?” Bishop purred, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers right here? Let anyone who might notice see you cum on my fuckin’ fingers?”

If you said the word, Bishop would pull away, albeit he would definitely take you into a closet or bathroom and fuck you in private instead. You felt his hardening cock against your thigh and you let out another moan. The room spun as you thought it over, “I want you to,” you finally whispered as you turned your head and kissed him deeply.

“Let me hear you say it, sweetheart,” he murmured as he bucked his hips against your body and sank his hand lower into your shorts, feeling the warmth of your cunt under his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers… Right here,” your tone was low and sultry and dripped with need, “And let anyone watch as you make me cum.”

“That’s my girl,” Bishop growled as he suddenly dove two fingers into your pussy.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and lurched forward to grab onto the pool table for balance. Bishop stayed close, using his body to support you from behind as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck baby… So wet for me.”

All you could do was moan as your body quickly warmed from his touch.

Bishop wrapped his other arm around your body and cupped at your breast through your shirt, rubbing at your nipple through the fabric, “Does it turn you on, sweetheart?” he asked in a deep voice, “That anyone could look over and see you like this?”

“Y-yes,” you admitted in a whisper.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, “Anyone could look over here and see how fucking sexy you look like this,” he thrust his fingers more roughly into you, hitting spots deep inside you, “But they can only see your face, baby… This fucking pussy,” he gave another harsh thrust, “Is mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned as you saw stars. You gripped the table so hard you almost felt like it could break under your grasp, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care about anything else other than how good Bishop fucked you with his fingers, and how much you craved your release.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop praised as his rubbed your clit with his thumb, “So fuckin’ good taking my fingers right here in the fucking clubhouse.”

“Bish…”

Suddenly he froze. When you let out a whine, he murmured your name, “Looks like we caught someone’s attention, baby.”

You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, noticing a prospect from the other chapter across the room. His eyes bore into you and his thoughts were easy to read from the look on his face. His jaw clenched and he had a grip on his beer bottle so tight that he might shatter at any second.

“Why don’t we give him a show?” you purred as you turned and gave Bishop a heated kiss.

“I fucking love you, baby,” Bishop chased your lips when you broke away and kissed you once more before he started thrusting his fingers into you once more.

You moaned loudly against his lips as you rested your head on his shoulder, surrendering yourself to the Mayan completely. Your mind swam as you felt your orgasm quickly build from Bishop hitting your sweet spot over and over again while his thumb grazed your clit.

“He can watch, baby,” Bishop growled as he picked up his pace, “But he can’t have you,” his tone dropped as his grip on you tightened, “You’re fucking mine.”

“Yours… Yes… Fuck…”

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me,” Bishop groaned as he felt your inner muscles clench around his fingers, “Show that fucking prospect what he can’t have.”

With that, you came hard with a scream. Your entire body trembled as you fought to keep yourself upright against the pool table, and you felt yourself gush onto Bishop’s fingers. He talked you through your climax, mumbling praises and curses in your ear as you rode out your high on his fingers.

The only reason no one else noticed was because the prospect snapped his beer bottle in his head the moment you screamed, and everyone else was too busy watching him to notice what you and Bishop were up to on the other side of the room. Some of the others cursed and berated the prospect, but a fierce look from Bishop kept him quiet about why he suddenly caused a scene.

“That’s my good girl,” Bishop cooed your ear in a softer tone as he pulled out of you, “So fucking sexy,” he added as he turned you to face him and made you watch as he licked his fingers clean, “And delicious too.”

“Bish!” you playfully chastised him with a light smack on his shoulder as your face felt hot, “That was really hot, though,” you admitted as you shimmied your shoulders softly and placed your hands on his chest, “How about I return the favor?” your tone dropped as you slowly sank to your knees, “Right fucking here.”

Bishop’s eyes went wide and a pulse of need shot through his veins, “Baby, I fuckin’ love you,” he blurted out as he readied himself for your mouth.

122 notes · View notes

byunpum · 1 year

Text

EXPERIMENT 56 [your time is coming] sequel | PART 2 |

AVATAR MASTERLIST | EXPERIMENT 56 masterlist

PAIR: Neteyam x Human reader. ( a mix of human and Navi )

Other pairs: Quaritch x reader (platonic) , sully fam x reader.

SUMMARY: Y/N thinks she has a peaceful life with her new family. But a sudden visitor is about to change her life and her family's life.

WARNINGS: 18+, the characters are aged up 20's, a little violence, don't worry no one dies, Y/N and neteyam being parents , Bestie stuff, Family moments,.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Note: I am really enjoying this sequel. I hope you all like it too. Sorry if there are some spelling mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. And remember that the inbox is open, so feel free to leave your request.

Neteyam tried to stay calm. Maybe you had been with loak or spider. Or with some of the men in the human camp area. But the more he analyzed the smell, the less it seemed similar. Neteyam watched as you settled your baby more on your chest, and took a piece of fruit. You were avoiding looking him in the eyes.

"No, it's okay…it's fine. The day was not what I expected" you say, laughing a little to calm neteyam's worries. But you watch as neteyam leans over you, and begins to sniff you. You stand still in your place, neteyam had grown up a lot in this year, he was a whole warrior-navi. So when he lunges at you, his whole body covered you. "Hey… you tickle me" you moan, while neteyam keeps sniffing the side of your neck. He pulls away a little to look you straight in the eyes.

"Were you with another man?" neteyam asks. You move closer and give him a kiss on the lips. "Don't be silly. How do you think I would do something like that" You say, pulling away from neteyam to get up from the ground and carry noah't to his resting area. It was like a nest, which had multiple soft fabrics to make him comfortable. The edges of the nest were high, so that he would not get out at night. This nest was the same one neteyam used as a baby, neytiri had given it to you as a gift. You settled noah't down and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Noah't had grown so fast, he was barely 1 year old and already the size of a 2 year old human. You turn to meet neteyam's piercing gaze.

"Love…do you really think I was with another man?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest. "It's not that…it's, you smell like another man. And I can't recognize him" neteyam gestures for you to come closer to him. You walk towards him to stand between his legs, and you see how he wraps his hands around you. And he puts his face on your breasts and breathes in a little of your scent. "You are more possessive lately…neteyam" you say, watching as he leaves dispersed kisses between your breasts and chest. His actual behavior was not strange to you. You knew what he wanted, well lately that's what he wants all the time…his mating season is near. And this makes him excited and defensive of any male figure that comes near you. The only ones he accepts to be around you are the men in his family circle. The others, he scares them away from you. You had noticed how he had become more aggressive with his caresses, more needy of your touches and even more submissive to your touch.

You watch as his tail wags from side to side, as his hold becomes tighter. "neteyam…how many days left?" you ask him, as the boy's hands run down your legs, kissing your arms and leaving a few soft bites on your shoulder " 4 days "says neteyam whimpering. You take his face in your hands, to make him look at you. You see how his pupils are dilated, his eyes half closed and his mouth half open. You reach up to caress your nose, with his nose. Causing him to giggle a little. "Do you want me to help you with anything?" you ask, as you feel him pull you into his lap, kissing your lips. You kiss them back, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him closer to you.

Neteyam moves a little away, to take his queue in his hands, to move it to the front and show it off. You copy his movements, and taking your queue to bring it closer to neteyam's. Sometimes simply this connection was all neteyam needed, even though he was greedy and always wanted double pleasure coming from you. You two bonded, both of you letting out a sigh. As neteyam hugged you, so that you were closer to him. "You are smaller than usual" neteyam moans, as he enjoys the ecstatic feeling of being so close and intimate with you. "You're bigger… that's the problem" you speak, kissing his neck. Rubbing your face over his skin, trying to capture his scent on you. "Problem?" the man says, biting your shoulder. You feel one of his hands hold your hips, pulling you closer to his growing erection.

"I need you so…so much" neteyam pleads with you a little, his ears back, as he feels one of your hands slip past his loincloth. Taking his length in your hand, slowly sliding it down and then up. Watching as neteyam moves underneath you, and bites his lower lip, he was so sensitive these days. That a simple touch, made him unsettled. You follow your movements on his cock, while leaving kisses on his chest, and then on the edge of his jaw. The noises coming out of his mouth, were low and quiet. Not wanting to wake noah't up, almost always your sessions were very quiet. In one swift movement, you feel neteyam remove your hand from his crotch and lift you up with ease.

"Let's go to bed, yes?" he says as he is carrying "hey…watch out. You're going to break it" you reach up to kiss him, as you feel his smile between your lips. Neteyam settles on top of you, taking your thighs between his hands to lift them up, arranging your legs around his waist. It was going to be quite an interesting and fun night. But that didn't take away your concern.

The next morning, you woke up to Noah't crying. He was a very quiet baby, that surprised you a lot. He used to sleep all his night, and get up early in the morning. This was perfect for you and neteyam, it gave you time to be together. But some nights, noah't slept with the two of you. But you were thankful that the night before, noah't was quiet. You get up carefully so as not to wake up neteyam, you move closer and give him a little kiss on his cheek. "So pretty" you say, adjusting some hair strands of your mate's face. -Where are your clothes? you think, as you hurry to calm Noah't down.

"Ma-mama" says noah't, jumping up and down in her nest. "I'm coming honey!!!" you quickly find your loincloth and run to hold noah't. You knew the baby was hungry, because the first thing he did when you picked him up was move closer to your chest. "As soon as you finish eating, let's take a bath, ok?" you stroke your son's hair. Turning your gaze to see neteyam asleep, you take the opportunity to look for various things to bring to your unexpected guests…Quaritch. You knew that all of his clothes were stained and dirty, so you were looking for one that neteyam didn't use. You were folded in a box, looking for clothes that would fit Quaritch, shit…neteyam was a big man. But Quaritch was something else, he was 9 feet tall. You had to look elsewhere. Dad, dad had old clothes…sure he did. "mama…mama" noah't was hugging you by the neck. Looking for your face, to give you a kiss on the cheek. "Honey, wait mommy is looking for something" you are so into the searching. You didn't notice that neteyam was already up. "Love, what are you doing there?" says neteyam lying down from the bed. You look up from the box, getting up and closing the box quickly.

"I was looking for something… but it's not here," you say, moving towards neteyam. "But there's only old stuff in there," says neteyam stretching out, dragging his hand to your waist to pull you closer to him. Quickly noah't jumps on top of his father, neteyam picks him up and settles him on his chest. Stroking his son's back, while still grabbing you around the waist. "Yeah, I know…but I was looking for a top I lost…but never mind" you laugh nervously, leaning in for a kiss. "I'm going to go take a bath with noah't at the lake, do you want to come?" neteyam ascends with his face and gives noah't a kiss on the head. "Well, I'm going to get some things…go get up to go" you pull away, to get everything ready to go to the lake. You had a plan, after arriving from the lake you were going to go get some clothes from your parents' hut and then go to the beach.

You liked to spend this time with your family, since they had arrived and after the whole event of your missing and being pregnant. Jake is still training neteyam to be the new clan leader, it is true that the position was given to another man from the omaticaya clan. But in a few years, he will pass the position to the corresponding heir and that is Neteyam, this meant that the days they shared as a family were limited, he had many responsibilities. So moments like this, in which neteyam was sitting in the lake with noah't in his arms, and see your son so happy. Hugging and playing with his father made you happy. After 1 hour had passed, you returned to the village.

You had noah't hanging on your back, in a sort of carrier. "Well, I'm going to leave you guys…I was supposed to meet loak in the hunting area. Today we are going to help the smaller warriors" says neteyam, getting down from his height to kiss you and noah't. "Perfect, I will visit mom for a while and then go with mo'at. Have a nice day" you say goodbye to neteyam, you watch as he stares at you until you are near the family hut. He used to do that, he wouldn't leave until he saw that you were safe. You enter the hut where you grew up, you noticed that there was no one there so you took the opportunity to look for some old clothes. You left noah't on the floor and started looking in the old box.

Spider went to look for Kiri, so you decided to look for her at home. When he arrived he saw you looking in the box and his nephew on the floor. Spider had earned his role as Noah's uncle. He was careful with him, always looking out for the baby. Neteyam trusted him a lot, as did you. As soon as noah't saw spider, he raised his arms and started to mumble his name. "Spite, spiteee" says noah't. "Hey little buddy, come here!!!" says spider, picking up the baby from the ground. You turn to look quickly. And you see spider already playing with noah't. "Oh it's you!!!" you get up to approach spider. "Is something wrong? You look a bit scared" says spider, you play a bit with your fingers. You had already found an old clothes that your father had saved, it was the perfect size for Quaritch. You knew you would need help and spider was perfect for this plan. In fact, he was the only person you could count on, since he and you were the only ones who had had contact with Quaritch after your liberation. Spider sees how nervous you are.

"Spider…you're my friend, right?" you ask him. Spider laughs, tightening Noah't around his waist." Y/N you know I am…I'm always here to help you" spider speaks. You take a deep breath, this is for the best… if you told neteyam that you had Quaritch sheltered. He wasn't going to accept it, he didn't want you to have contact with that man. He might have helped you, and if he knew noah't…but nothing else. "I have a situation and you're the only one who can help me" you say, as you pack the clothes in your bag at your waist. "I'm all ears" spider listens to you. "I have quaritch sheltered in the beach hut, he's hurt…they tried to kill him and he has nowhere to go" you say quickly. You stand there in silence, while you wait for spider's reaction.

"What? Are you crazy?" spider yells, you throw yourself at him and put your hand over his mask. "Shut up!!!, please…I need your help" you make puppy eyes. You knew spider and Quaritch could never develop their relationship, but at least spider knew of its existence. "I found him yesterday, I need you to help me…I know you two don't get along. But you're the only one who can help me" you say, waving spider's arm from side to side. You can see his frustrated face, he started to walk. "ok, I'm going to help you… but" before spider finishes speaking, you are already hugging him. " AHH noah't, uncle spider is the best" you sing a little, celebrated with your son. "Y/N tell me…how long is this going to continue to help him?" asks spider.

"I don't know…I haven't thought about it yet. I don't even know if I'm doing the right thing." You speak, spider hugs you again. "You're a good person," says spider. At that moment jake enters the hut, he had a basket full of some kind of bread and some fruits. "ohh you guys are here….and look who's there, the most beautiful baby of pandora" jake drops the basket on the floor and takes Noah't from spider's arms. "You are such a precious baby" jake says, placing kisses on his grandson's stomach. It was ridiculous to see him like that, he was melting for his grandson. You look at the basket, could you take some bread and fruit. "Dad, can I take some of this?" you point to the basket, already taking a few things. "Sure sweetie, take whatever you want" jake says, playing with noah't.

"So what were you two doing?" jake looks at spider, he was asking because when he walked in he saw the hug you two were giving each other. And it wasn't that you two weren't showing affection, but you were his oldest son's mate. And he knew how neteyam got when another man was near you and more so in this season. "nothing…we were just hugging, dad" you give him a disapproving look, you know what he's insinuating. Spider gets nervous, he's always looking for jake's approval. "Okay, well…spider and I have business to do. So…" you look at your father. "Dad, do you have something to do?" you say. "No, why?" jake asks you, already knowing what you're asking. "Can you watch noah't for a while, I'll be right back?" you beg him a little, until jake agrees to stay and watch noah't. After all, if he liked doing it, it was the perfect excuse to go with some friends and show off his grandson.

You and spider leave the hut, but not before saying goodbye to your son. You didn't like to be away from him for too long, but you were going to come back quickly. Besides, you knew he was in good hands. You left the hut, with the food you had taken and went straight to where the Ikran was. You had to be careful, you could run into anyone you knew, and you didn't want to lie anymore. "It's been a long time since I've ridden cupcake, but I think it will work" you say, laughing a little. "Ohh noo" says spider, watching you approach the creature. The ikran whines a little, but calms down when you speak to it. "Cupcake, calm down…it's me" you reach up to touch its snout, the creature calms down and you let you make the bond and ride it. "Come on, come!!!" you shout to spider, he runs and climbs up behind you. And you start traveling towards the beach, it doesn't take you long to get there.

You got a little scared, seeing that no one was in the area. Had he left or had someone happened to him? You quickly got down from the ikran, and walked quickly into the hut. Spider followed your steps, although he didn't want to show it, he was curious to know what was going on. "Quaritch?…are you there?" you enter slowly. To your surprise, the man is inside the hut, he was lying on the improvised bed. He looked better than yesterday, but he was still hurt. "Damn…he looks bad" mutters spider, walking in with you. " S-sorry…I fell asleep" Quaritch says, struggling to sit up. "No…it's okay. Just stay there. It's okay" you speak, reaching over to stroke his hair. Spider sees how confident you are with the man, apparently you really cared about him. "He's…spider," you say quietly to the thousands. You smile at spider, to get him to say something. "Yes, it's me…Y/N told me everything" speaks spider, a little uncomfortable sitting on the floor.

"Spider is going to help me…plus we'll bring you some clothes and food" you say, helping Quaritch out of bed. Spider goes to the ikran for a moment, to get the food. As he re-enters the hut, he hands you the small basket. You place it in front of Quaritch. "It's a kind of bread and fruit…it will help you with stamina" you say, stroking his cheek. You were very affectionate towards Quaritch, maybe spider saw him as a threat, but you knew him. Eywa knew him and knew he had changed. They just had to give him a chance. You watched as Quaritch took a piece of bread and fruit and began to eat. He looked quite hungry, and didn't say a word as he devoured the food.

"No one is going to take your food" scoffs spider, Quaritch looks up and laughs a little. "Sorry" Quaritch tries to eat slower. You get out of bed, and reach into your waist bag. "Look…I brought you some clothes. I'm not going to tell you whose it is…but it's going to look great on you" you place the clothes on the edge of the bed. Quaritch takes the clothes in his hands and looks at them. It was tiny for his taste. "What's this supposed to cover?" he asks, as you look at him curiously. You don't know what he is talking about for you it was normal clothes, spider laughs a little. "It's navi clothes" says spider seriously, looking at the man. "It looks like a stripper thong" says Quaritch, there is a silence between the two of you. Spider and you don't know what Quaritch is talking about. "I'm sorry… it's nothing. I'm just not used to this" Quaritch says, laughing uncomfortably.

"You don't like it?" you ask, he couldn't say the least bad thing to you. You had done so much for him, saving him from the forest. Healing him and now taking care of him. "It's strange…but it's nice." Spider laughs again, as he settles more on the ground. "Get changed…and I'll take those clothes. It's got blood on it, you're quick prey for some creatures" you say, getting up and leaving the hut. Spider follows you out, leaving Quaritch alone to change outfits. Miles looked again at the tiny piece you had given him, how he was going to arrange everything in there. You were petting your ilu hi'i, and next to you was spider. "He is very hurt" says spider, you look at him with concern. It was true, the burn wounds were very strong. The normal thing would be for mo'at to see him and cure him, but how were you going to take him to the village? It was almost impossible, your father would kill you. "Yes, I'm afraid his wounds will get infected. You think taking him to see mo'at…" spider tapped you on the shoulder. "You're crazy… no no no no" he says, getting up and shaking the sand off his legs.

"Y/N" shouted Quaritch, you get up and walk towards the hut. When you enter you see Quaritch, standing there. He didn't want to move much. "This is a little…awkward" he says shyly, settling one cheek of his butt with his hand. Spider couldn't contain his laughter, and neither could you. "It looks great on you," you say, leaning in closer to check out some burns you hadn't seen before. "You'll get used to it," says Spider, trying to comfort the man. You can tell that some of the wounds are quite swollen, and needed special care. "This looks pretty bad… why don't you rest. And I'll see what I can do. Tomorrow we'll be back" you speak, picking up a few things. "Look… here's some more food" spider brings more things, and puts them in the basket on the bed. "Thank you kid" Quaritch gives you a quality smile, and spider just shifts his gaze, rushing to your side.

"Please rest…I'll see what I can do." You say, as you start to leave the hut. Quaritch is so tired that he lies back down on the bed, his whole body aches and he was sure those wounds were bad. But he trusted you. You walked a little to the shore of the beach, to say goodbye to your ilu. "Hi'i take care of him!!!! Ok?" you give her a kiss, and walk to the ikran, to go back to the village with spider. You both stay silent on the road. When you arrive, spider gets off the ikran. "What are we going to do?" spider asks you. " I'm going to talk to mo'at…but" you say, complaining. Spider gives your hand a squeeze.

"I'm going to get the guys…when you decide to call me" spider says goodbye to you. You stand there thinking about what you were going to do, you adjust your clothes and walk to your family's hut to look for your baby. When you arrive at the hut, you see your father playing with noah't, they were playing with some paper ikran. They were the same ones you used when you were little. " Hello!!!" you say, and you see how your son laughs and raises his arms at the sight of you. "mommy is here!!!" jake lifts off the ground, taking noah't in his arms. Jake walks over to you and gives you noah't, the baby quickly hugs your neck breathing in your scent, he had that in common with neteyam. "Where were you?" jake asks, picking up the mess in the hut, "I was walking spider… it was nothing serious" you say, you think your answer was clever. Until you see jake turn and look at you.

"Honey…watch out" jake says, you giggle a little. " Dad…Please, spider is my friend" you say, as you reach over to take your dad's hand, pulling it down so he bends to your height so you can give him a kiss on the cheek. "Dad…thanks for taking care of noah't." jake hugs you, and gives noah't a kiss as he watches you leave the hut, walking to the area where mo'at was. You had to talk to her. You knew that if you did nothing, Quaritch would take a turn for the worse. You approach, and see that she is alone. This is the best time, but you don't know how to approach her.

"My child…what's wrong?" says mo'at as she continued to work with some herbs. How the hell did she know you were there. You were hoping she wouldn't notice you and you could return to your home. You decide to go inside and sit quietly with noah't between your legs. The baby quickly begins to crawl towards mo'at, his great-grandmother loved him so much. The woman took his arm, settling her great-grandson next to her, and handing him some tool to play with. "What are you going to ask me?" says mo'at looking up to confront you. You remain silent for a moment, until you decide to speak.

"Mo'at… eywa always does things with a purpose" you speak timidly. The woman stops what she is doing, and pays attention to you. "It doesn't matter if the person was ever bad" you whisper, trying not to let mo'at quite hear. Mo'at slides down a little, to take your hand and squeeze it for a moment. "My child… who are you helping?" mo'at is looking straight at you, you had no escape.

Noah't aunts : @st4rrry @valeriinee @inutheangel @gielrmn @sloppierjewel @purple7theparty @itscheybaby @ssc7514 @namorslit @ducks118 @tpwkstiles @elli-aesthetics @nao-cchi @uselessbutinteresting @msjae @austynparksandpizza @gamorxa @andyyy4444 @itssomeonereading @meivap @barbii04 @mm-nope @dorck26 @nessrin @purple7theparty @ssc7514 @sloppierjewel @yeosxxx @legendleopard100 @pandoragalora @jayzes-blog @ducks118 @kyriekurokami @heesoftiefreak @teamanime @d4rno @dumb-fawkin-bitch-bitch @burdeningbitch @allsouls-emma @aceofheartzzz @famousbagelhandspurse @fanficblogs @lilyofthetigers @mjnij @laylasbunbunny

@cherrywinesab @sloppierjewel @bubbleguppy0315 @ellielovesrobinarellano @mrs-sullys-blog @lovekeeho @vectoriscommitingcrimes @kimtaehussy @bimbotinkerbell @aceofheartzzz @d4rno @3okutos-3ig-toe @bxnnywriting @anarcoirisgatuno @allsouls-emma @luna-ann @vivendominhahistorias @neteyamsgirll @yeosxxx @naynay2808

@neytirisgf @meivap @gamorxa @nuttyrebelflower @lovelyygirl8 @allenparkermin03 @lucero-ksb-blog @neteyamforlife @btslovergirl12 @nuttyrebelflower @artologia-blog1 @sloppierjewel @queen-dk

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

333 notes · View notes