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reiderwriter · 9 months

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Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.

A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️

Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.

My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!

It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.

But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.

You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.

Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.

You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.

You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.

You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.

“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.

When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.

On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.

You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.

–X–

It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.

You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.

But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.

It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.

The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.

Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.

–X–

It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.

Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.

You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.

You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.

Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.

You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.

“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.

“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.

“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I��ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.

“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.

–X–

It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.

It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.

Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.

“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.

He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.

It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.

“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”

“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.

“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.

“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”

“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.

“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”

–X–

For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.

You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.

You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.

“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.

“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”

“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.

“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.

“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.

“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.

“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.

“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.

The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.

Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.

“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.

And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.

He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.

“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.

“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.

“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.

“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.

“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.

“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.

“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.

“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”

“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.

“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.

“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.

“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”

“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”

You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.

“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.

“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.

“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.

“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.

He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.

It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #requested #🥺 Anon

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pinkhoodi · 2 months

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kiss me baby !

✎ᝰ — types of kisses the young justice boys favor

��⃕ — dick grayson, wally west, kaldur’ahm x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff + slightly suggestive, tried not to make dick a wh*re /aff

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱ ᡣ𐭩 any and every kiss

Ꮺ dick is quite affectionate but ofc that’s no surprised when he’s a proclaimed lover boy. however, he reserves certain kisses for certain people and certain times; simple cheek kisses for greeting the women he passes by during important events, hand kisses to greet women that he’s interested in, (before meeting you), and the rest just for you <3

Ꮺ kisses for dick is his way of communicating about half the time. times when he’s quiet, or isn’t in the mood to speak much, he gives you a forehead or cheek kiss to reassure you that he’s listening, just not communicative right now. moments where he’s being a tease, he would blow air kisses (especially upon getting to know you and during missions). intimate times, of course, would let him place mouth kisses, a lot of sloppy (or needy) ones if he’s feeling daring, and body kisses

Ꮺ out of all, dick favors to give you kisses on the lips. they either rile the both of you up or have a heartfelt way of saying, “I love you” to one another. especially times where the world feels like it’s at a standstill, no sense of danger to attend to but a quiet time of serenity. in moments where it’s just you and dick enjoying one another’s company, kisses make for the time that passes throughout the night

Ꮺ dick treats kisses either act an of intimacy or his way of getting something out of you. He doesn’t know what that “something” could be tbh; it could lead you to potentially talk to him after you got mad at him, you getting flustered at his cheek kisses, a look of shock on your face after he walks off from giving you a few passionate kisses, or even you becoming affectionate after those kisses. he enjoys the way your face contorts into looks of annoyance, passion, or a pout that rises from his teases

Ꮺ if you have fuller, or much plumper lips, dick will stay on them every. single. hour. he is a FEIN for how your fuller lips feel on his, it’s so soft, so plush, it’s like he’s on a cloud. he’s obsessed and it’s best that you hide before your lips become sore…again

꒰ WALLY WEST ꒱ ᡣ𐭩 forehead kisses

Ꮺ for wally, kisses are reserved for you and only you. wally takes intimacy very seriously, especially when it comes to kisses. unlike his best friend, wally doesn’t you kisses to his advantage (sometimes)

Ꮺ though, it wouldn’t be a lie that wally enjoys kissing you day and night. when the sun rises, when the sun sets, as you two settle into bed, as you two get ready for the morning, he’ll create a reason to kiss you

Ꮺ forehead kisses give a set of reassurance for wally, a feeling that you are here to love him and cherish him, through the good, bad, and the ugly. it lets him that you care for wally, you wanna listen to wally, you want to be wally’s home, where he has comfort and fondness

Ꮺ during times of intimacy, it’s quiet, a few awkward moments, but then again it’s wally. when he stutters too much as he speaks or incompletes his thoughts, you place a forehead kiss to calm him. he’ll shyly smile and give one back, after restarting his fragmental sentence

Ꮺ he doesn’t wanna admit it but wally is an addict to your kisses :). It doesn’t always have to be on the lips but the way his body flutters and the bashfulness that displays on him makes him feel floaty, even on bad days where missions go awry, your kisses help ease his mood. though it is quite cute how shy wally can get when asking for a kiss

꒰ KALDUR’AHM ꒱ ᡣ𐭩 body kisses

Ꮺ I feel like all three boys would favor body kisses but kaldur might be the most down bad for body kisses, both giving and receiving. however, he knows how to hide it better than the other two, he would wait for times of privacy while wally is subtle and dick is….not so subtle !

Ꮺ just like dick, kaldur would enjoy all kisses but kisses to appreciate your bodies feels like the perfect way to adore you. don’t get me wrong, he does tend to words of affirmation and acts of service but he can’t help plastering sweet kisses to your collarbone, behind the ear, stomach, cheek, or thighs (his personal favorite <3)

Ꮺ since he was always required to greet and adore aquaman as his king, adoration would be second nature to kaldur. which would make it quite too often to give your body some love during times of privacy

Ꮺ he doesn’t mind kisses around on the lips or forehead, but he feels a deeper connection when his lips attend to your body

Ꮺ times when he’s becoming too much into his head and stress is slowly shattering him, he’ll lay on your stomach and plant small kisses there. if not your stomach, he’ll pull you into his lap and crane his neck, signaling that he wants kisses but isn’t really in the mood to be expressive right now

♡⃕ heyyyyy, how yall doin 😋? listen….at least i wrote something for young justice !

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: psalm 147:3

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bones4thecats · 3 months

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What If Their S/O Was A Royal Heir?

Type of Writing: #1 - Poll Result Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Idia Shroud, Jamil Viper, and Jack Howl Name: What If Their S/O Was A Royal Heir? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: Alright, so, the basic set-up behind this is in the order of pieces on my upcoming list is going to be the order in which these are released. Also, requests shall NOT be reopened until I finish at least most of the random prompts I have are done, thanks!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

❤️ You were a descendant of the Queen who took up after the Queen of Hearts passed away years ago, and ever since then, your family has ruled the Queendom of Roses without faults

❤️ Because of fears of betrayal and such, your family never really spoke to many others outside of work, but, when you received a letter claiming your advising attendance at Night Raven College, you jumped at the opportunity

❤️ When you arrived, you suffered far less criticism from Riddle than others, and many believed that he feared you because of your ranking, he didn't want to upset his mother

❤️ But, when you guys started to befriend one another and began your relationship, you figured out the true reason he didn't behead you as much as others

❤️ He didn't wish to bring any shame to his family, and when you saw how down he looked about that thought, you admitted to faking so many smiles, just because it was what your ancestor, known as the White Queen did

" I guess we aren't that different after all, huh? "

❤️ Ever since that day, you have recommenced having his parents meet yours, and, despite his constant pleas of you letting it go, you finally relented and asked for him to at least help you send a letter to his mother

❤️ Riddle's mother not-shockingly wasn't fond that her son began to see someone without her permission, but, when she realized how prominent you were in their homeland, she had to relent and allow your relationship to proceed, she didn't need the royal guard on her back

🎮 How did this guy manage to get your attention? The world may never know

🎮 As a higher-ranked official, specifically a descendant of the man who took the thrown of the King of the Underworld after his demise, you were normally thrown into many different affairs, making you try hiding away constantly

🎮 Thankfully, your prayers of freedom were answered, and you got an offer to join Night Raven College, and your family couldn't hold you back, since you gave the school a solid yes behind their backs

🎮 When you were organized into Ignihyde with Idia, he was very intimidated by you, since you were so popular among students

🎮 Though, funnily enough, you would go running away from the many students who wanted to ask you for things, and you would end up running into a nearby room, one in which Idia was occupying alone

🎮 You guys started speaking about how much you enjoyed a game and you ended up becoming quite close, in which you helped with with building Ortho's mechanical body

🎮 Idia was definitely nervous when you started your relationship, to him, you were the best thing to exist; powerful - yet caring, and quite smart when it comes to strategies, while he was, in his opinion, odd and not-worthy of you

🎮 Most of the time, he pushes your ranking in the Island of Woe, if you could push his issues aside, then he could put everything about you aside as well!

🐍 Many feared you because of how logical you were, you were rumored to be able to see through any kind of lies or, really, any kind of deceit, no matter the person

🐍 Jamil had heard about you mainly from Kalim and his parents, as you were a far-off relative of the Al-Asim's, specifically, you were a descendant of the Sultana from hundreds of years ago

🐍 You were being forced to heir the thrown, since your older brother had been assassinated a few years prior, and when you came by for a summer to spend time with your younger distant cousins, he would be lying if he said he wasn't fond of you

🐍 Whenever you noticed that Kalim was getting to be too much for Jamil, you would grab the young ball-of-sunshine and ask if he wanted to play with his younger siblings and you

🐍 Due to your far different rankings, you kept your relationship hidden, as you didn't wish for your family's council to end up punishing his family, who had done nothing wrong

🐍 Jamil would normally grab you and him a small cup of tea and relax with you on the balcony of your room, keeping the silence either in progress or cut it out with conversations about your lives and dreams of the future

🐍 And while your relationship may be in forcible secrecy, you shared your dream of living with Jamil by your side, either ruling over your homeland or relinquishing your role to one of your younger siblings to travel with your one and only

🐺 Jack knew quite a bit about you, as his parents loved to tell stories of the news to him and his younger siblings as they grew older, and they just made the news more recent and a hint more mature as Jack aged

🐺 So, when you arrived at Night Raven College at the same time as him, he was quite excited when you were organixed in the same dorm as him, Savanaclaw

🐺 He noticed how casually you would speak to Leona, and that was when the pieces of his mind actually realized just who you were

🐺 As the second-in-line heir to the Shaftlands, and the offspring of the descendant of the Fairest Queen and a high-ranking raven beastman, you had met the two heirs of Sunset Savannah early on in life, prompting a strong friendship between you and the lion-beastman to emerge

🐺 Jack began to speak with you when he saw how you trained your unique magic to be stronger than it was at the start of the year, and he began to train with you

🐺 One day, his siblings decided to come by for a visit, they stopped and starred at you as your boyfriend chuckled and introduced you, and after hearing your role and name, the young boy and girl began to bombard you with questions on your life as a royal member

🐺 The wolf-beastman smiled and watched as you spoke gently with his siblings as his grandparents and parents asked him how you met and when you began your relationship

🐺 He just smiled and answered them honestly, and he hoped one day his family could meet yours, and the kids you were currently playing with were adults as your own children took their places...

571 notes · View notes

stairain · 1 year

Text

Swing and a Miss.

You meet a nerd at a bar, and you’re determined to claim him as yours.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, blowjobs, hesitance, praise, nicknames, implications of desired corruption, mentions of alcohol, this is quite tame in comparison to everything else I’ve written.

WC: 5K

You slowly walked into the bar, noticing the bustling atmosphere that surrounded you. You took a few moments to look around and admire the patrons before walking up to the bar table and sitting down.

Spencer sat at the table, and looked around him at the strange, unfamiliar environment, and he quietly watched the people in the bar as they drank, talked, and laughed. He was studying them carefully, observing their gestures and faces, trying to pick up on small details about their behavior and manner of communication.

He took in the sights and sounds of the place, taking mental notes and storing the information away for later use, in case he needed to recall it. He did not interact with anyone, instead keeping to himself and letting them come to him.

You smile towards the bartender before telling him what you wanted, and when you were done talking to him, you looked to the quiet man next to you.

He seemed to be in his own world, and looked very out of place at this bar. But you decide to bite the bullet anyways.

“Hey.”

He looks at you for a moment with a neutral expression, then smiles slightly and gives you a brief nod of his head in greeting. Although you had only just met, he seems to be trying to figure you out, studying you and taking in your appearance and behavior. He seems to be assessing your trustworthiness and what kind of person you are.

"Hello. I'm Spencer Reid, and you are?"

You shake your head and smile.

“That’s not important.” The bartender hands you your drink, and you take the glass in your hand. “But I can’t help but notice you seem.. out of place. You don’t usually go out to these types of places, do you?”

He looks around at the rowdy bar with a faint frown on his face, clearly not enjoying the rowdy and loud atmosphere. His eyes return to meet yours, and he nods slightly.

"Correct, I do not regularly visit such places. They are noisy and crowded, and people are usually intoxicated, which makes them more unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Additionally, I do not understand how people can enjoy spending time in such chaotic settings, and I usually feel out of place and out of touch with the people around me. It's not my usual environment."

You take a sip of your drink and listen to him ramble on. You had to bite back a joke about how he’d be better off in a library, you were interested in this man, and you didn’t know how well he’d take that joke.

“So.. Then what are you doing here? Waiting on a friend.. Waiting for a girl?” You looked at his hands, no ring.

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head.

"Not waiting for anyone, no. I was, um.. I was trying to get more comfortable with this type of environment, I suppose. Trying to expand my social experience a bit. I'm not particularly fond of this kind of place, but I'm making a bit of an effort to make myself more comfortable with things that normally make me uncomfortable. Trying to learn to deal with discomfort and chaos rather than avoiding it, if that makes any sense."

“How admirable.” You take one more sip of your drink before setting it down on the counter. You move your body so you’re now facing him, your legs almost brushing against his seat, and your arm supporting your head as you lean on the table. “You’re an introvert then, I take it..”

He is slightly taken aback when you move closer to him, but he recovers quickly and nods.

"That's... correct, yes. I'm very introverted, and I typically prefer my own company, but I'm trying to make more of an effort to interact with people. I enjoy reading and studying about other people, but actually socializing with them is something I'm still working on being comfortable with."

You can’t help the soft laugh that leaves your lips.

“You study people, but can’t bring yourself to talk to them.. Seems a bit stalker-ish, no? I mean, I have no doubt you can tell what I’m thinking just by looking at you..”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles a little, a bit embarrassed.

"I suppose that could be seen that way, yes. But I mean no harm. I'm just... I'm very analytical. I like to understand how things work, and people are the most complex things there are. It's fascinating to study them and their behaviors, but I still haven't quite figured out how to make it work in practical settings. I am... not very socially skilled, as I am sure you have already gathered."

You flash a smile to him before sighing and picking up your head from your hand. You reach down to grab at his chair and turn it so he’s facing you.

“Alright then, pretty boy. What can you tell me about my behavior, hm?”

He is a little caught off guard by your sudden action, and he blushes faintly at your comment, clearly not used to such compliments. He thinks for a moment before speaking.

"You are very.. bold in your methods of approaching men. You seem confident, and comfortable with yourself. But also, perhaps a little bit lonely. I am not sure, but I get a sense of restlessness from you."

You huff softly through your nose at him those last few parts.

“Maybe all that studying paid off then, stranger. You’ve just about hit the nail on the head.”

There’s a slight sadness in your tone, but you mask it quickly with a smile. He looks a little shocked by your admission, and his eyebrows furrow slightly, indicating he is concerned.

"I... am sorry to hear that. It must be... difficult, feeling so restless and alone. I can see why it might lead you to try new ways of meeting new people, if the usual methods aren't working out."

His words are sincere and genuine. He has a kind and empathetic side to him, and he feels a lot of sympathy for you, imagining a life without meaningful connections and genuine relationships.

“Thanks, but, I’ve been alright on my own. Plus, meeting new people is always fun.. Don’t you think?”

You look up at him with a flirtatious smile. He smiles back, but also seems a little bashful.

"Well.. meeting new people can be interesting and exciting, certainly. But it can also be difficult and uncomfortable. It's not really my specialty, to be completely honest." He chuckles a little nervously. "I tend to be a bit... awkward, in social situations, if you cannot tell. I am not the most charming or charismatic person, and I generally don't make the best first impression."

“That’s alright, I’d say I have enough charm for the both of us, hm?” You throw a wink at him and reach over to take a sip from your glass. He blushes again, but his smile grows a little bit, as he seems to find your flirting a bit flattering.

"I suppose you do," he laughs a little. "I admit, I'm not usually on the receiving end of flirtations from beautiful women, so it's a bit of a... new experience for me."

“Beautiful, huh?” You chuckle at his small attempt at flirting. Your words are teasing. “Was flattery in those studies on how to read people?”

Spencer laughs, embarrassed. "Okay, okay. Flattery is not exactly my strong suit, as I'm sure you have already gathered. That was.. awkward, wasn't it?" He sighs and looks away.

"Anyway, I guess maybe it did get mentioned a time or two in my studies, yes.. but it was never really something I put much effort into. I guess I must be out of practice, because it clearly did not work at all."

“Swing and a miss.” You joke before you reach out and pull his jaw gently so he’s looking back at you again. “I admire your attempt, what else you got?”

His face flushes even brighter, and he looks at you intently as he tries to think of something to say. He's not used to this kind of interaction, and so he just ends up staring at you, his face pink as his brain whirs quickly, thinking of something to say. He clears his throat, trying to think of a compliment that doesn't sound too forced or unnatural, but it doesn't seem to help. You've really got him stumped now.

"Um... I... I..."

He sighs, looking slightly frustrated as he's unable to put his thoughts into words. You pick up your glass and swirl around the drink as you continue to tease the poor man.

“Rendering a nerd speechless, consider me accomplished.”

He smiles and bows his head. "I guess you definitely have more experience than I do when it comes to meeting new people. You definitely seem... very good at this. You must be a natural born flirt, hm?" He chuckles a little and shakes his head, laughing at himself. “You definitely put me to shame, if I'm being honest. I'm not sure I can match your level of charm... but I'll keep practicing. It can't hurt to try and learn from the best."

“The best? Look at you, you’re already learning.” You praise, trying to gauge the kind of person he is. You wanted to see what made him blush, what made him stutter, and what made him aroused. “And no, not natural born.. You just make it easy.”

He blushes again at your comments, and he looks slightly embarrassed. He seems flattered by your praise, but he's also a little bit suspicious of you, wondering what your game is. Why are you being so playful and flirty with him? He doesn't think you'd go through all this effort for no reason.

"Why are you being so... nice to me?"

You nonchalantly sip at your drink, obviously entertained at watching the confused and flattered expression on his face.

“You’re adorable, I see no reason to lie about that, seeing as you’d probably be able to read my mind somehow anyways.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, quite amused by the situation. You really did catch him off guard, but he is still enjoying the banter and the playful flirting. In fact, it's very flattering, considering he's not used to people being flirty with him.

"Okay, you got me. I can't argue with that. I guess sometimes I'm a little bit too easy to read, huh?"

“Seems a bit ironic, you’ve spent all this time analyzing people and their behavior, and yet you’ve already given away so much to me.”

The playful teasing tone in your voice doesn’t falter at all, it only grows stronger as you can feel him becoming more comfortable with it.

“Makes me feel special, stranger.”

He nods, trying not to laugh. He seems to find your teasing both amusing and refreshing, despite his previous suspicions. "I suppose that is a bit ironic, huh?

He chuckles and shakes his head again, blushing slightly but seeming to relax and let his guard down a tad bit, feeling more comfortable with you. You have a very charismatic manner about you, so he can see why people are drawn to you, and he is enjoying himself now.

"You do have a knack for making people feel that way. I must admit... I am feeling quite special right now."

“Maybe that was my plan all along.” You reach out and run your hand through his hair, pushing it back slightly before ruffling it again. “What else are you feeling..?”

Spencer gives a soft gasp at the sudden touch, and he blushes again. He’s surprised by your boldness, but he can't deny that he finds it awfully flattering. You are clearly very comfortable with the flirtatious vibe. "I... I must say, I'm feeling... a little flustered..." He smiles slightly, but he’s still feeling bashful and is unable to stop blushing.

“That’s all?” You give him a faux pout and after a few moments you bite your lip, waiting for an answer.

He clears his throat, still very flustered. "Well... I'll admit my mind is starting to think about... more than just my typical studies of people's behavior..." He chuckles shyly, finding it a little amusing, but also a bit thrilling that he's feeling this way.

He's not used to such experiences, and it makes him feel oddly excited and hopeful. "I've never met someone like you before, you must forgive me. I'm... not very experienced with flirting or intimacy."

You can’t help but laugh in admiration at the way he speaks.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty boy.”

He blushes even more at the nickname you’ve assigned to him. You've completely caught him off guard now, with your playful tone and teasingly bold manner. He clears his throat again in an attempt to steady his voice as he tries to answer you honestly. "W-well.. like I said, I've never experienced this level of flirting before.. and, um, well, I.. I feel myself becoming a little bit attracted to you."

“Just a little bit? You think we could change that?” Your tone is condescending and teasing, as if you’re talking down to him.

He sighs and nods, clearly defeated by his feelings, but he smiles nonetheless. "Okay, okay.. I'll admit it. You got me. I'm more than a little bit attracted to you, and... yes, I would like to change that."

He chuckles softly, realizing how blunt and honest he's being, but he seems to accept his attraction to you. You are a beautiful woman, after all. There's no denying it, so he just gives into his feelings.

You smirk at his answer and stand up from your seat. You lean up to his ear to whisper lowly, making him shiver in anticipation.

“Meet me in the bathroom.. 4th on the left. Wait a few minutes before going, I’ll be waiting.”

You turn away from him and make your way to the back of the bar. You push open the door and thank god they have single bathrooms.

He looks absolutely stunned by your sudden show of boldness and the intensity of your request. He blushes even more, but he nods and seems to accept his fate. After a few minutes, he pushes up his sleeve and looks at his watch, then he heads to the bathroom, trying to get himself prepared for what is waiting for him. His emotions are all but out of control, and his heart is racing, but he feels strangely excited as a part of him can't believe this is happening.

As soon as you hear a timid knock on the door, you know it’s him. You quickly swing the door open before forcefully grabbing him by his tie and dragging him into the bathroom.

His eyes widen as he's suddenly grabbed by you, and he's shocked by your boldness and the physical force with which you pull him into the bathroom. He's knocked off balance, completely he's caught off guard by the unexpected aggressiveness of your approach. But he follows along without resistance, feeling excited by your confidence and your dominant attitude. You have clearly taken charge, so he follows your lead, eager to see where this is going.

You shut the door behind you two and lock it. Once you twist the lock, you slam his body against the door and lean forward to press a messy, aggressive kiss on his lips.

Despite the way you’ve assaulted his lips by your aggressive and passionate kiss, he can’t help but melt into the kiss and starts kissing you back, feeling caught up in the moment and carried away by the passion. Any thought about protesting against you was completely out of his mind. He kisses you back with equal levels of passion, he puts all of his emotions and his feelings on the line to give in completely.

You pull back and lick your your bottom lip, looking up at him with a predatory gaze. “Not such a shy nerd anymore, what happened, pretty boy?”

He blushes again when you break apart, his face now completely red when he meets your intimidating gaze. "I.. I guess you must've brought it out of me.. you do tend to have that effect." He chuckles, still quite breathless from the kiss. This is all new territory for him.

“I’m flattered, baby.” You say before diving down and pressing wet kisses against his neck, and you can feel the goosebumps on his skin on your lips.

Spencer’s is taken by surprise again, and he can't help but blush heavily. He can feel your lips on his neck, and he lets out a soft gasp at the contact. He can feel the goosebumps forming on his skin, and chills running down his back as you continue doing this.

"This... this is..." He chuckles breathlessly, not able to finish his sentence, but he's feeling extremely pleased with this experience. He's never felt like this before, and he can't help but enjoy the sensuality of it.

“Talk to me, pretty thing..” You whisper against his neck before continuing your kisses.

He can't help but shiver and let out a soft whimper at your voice, and the kisses you're planting on his neck. He can feel his cheeks burning red, and he can't help but give into the sensations you're causing him to experience. He doesn't even care if he sounds foolish when he speaks.

"This.. this feels so good... I've never felt anything like this before."

“Yeah? You want more?” You murmur against his skin as your hands find the buttons of his shirt, and begin to play with them.

He nods, still breathless and a little bit shaky. He loves this feeling, and he's never wanted anything more in his entire life. His eyes are fixed on yours, and you can feel his heartbeat picking up speed as you unbutton his shirt. "Yes... please..." He gives a soft moan, now overcome with sensations, and he's lost in the moment. He can't help but give into your touch.

Nodding, you start pushing the buttons through the hole, and soon enough you have his entire chest exposed for you, fully on display. You sigh happily at the sight and slowly kneel down, pressing kisses against the skin of his bare chest and stomach as you lower yourself to the ground.

This sudden display of boldness from you leaves him completely and utterly shocked and speechless. He can't help but watch you with bated breath, as you make a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and leaving his bare chest exposed.

"What... what are you..." His words are shaky and quiet, as he watches you with a mixture of surprise, arousal, and embarrassment.

You don’t answer him, but instead ask him your own question.

“Tell me what you know about the effect pleasure leaves on humans..”

Your skillful fingers run down his body and trail your digits on the waist of his dress pants and find the zipper of them. You give it a small tug as you speak.

His mind goes completely blank for a few seconds, and his heart rate picks up speed again. Your teasing, playful, and bold personality is starting to take over, and he's starting to become more and more overcome with the excitement of the situation.

"Uh... I-It's been shown that pleasure does-fuck.. release dopamine and oxytocin in the brain, causing a feeling of physical and emotional satisfaction in the recipient, and... and this feeling can... get quite addicting, which... usually leaves people wanting more."

You hum in satisfaction at his answer and pull down the zipper of his pants. “You’ve never felt that before, have you?”

His eyes widen when he realizes what you're doing, and he takes in a sharp breath of air. He's completely and utterly flustered and embarrassed by this display of dominance, and he can't help but watch you like a deer trapped in headlights, unable to look away.

He shakes his head, feeling slightly lightheaded from the excitement and the overwhelming feelings of the situation.

"No... I... I've-I've never felt anything quite like this before."

“And how do you feel, baby? You want more?” His zipper is completely pulled down, and you slot your fingers between his sweaty skin and the rough fabric of his pants.

Your words and actions leave him feeling completely flustered and speechless again, and he can feel all of his emotions running wild. He can feel the blush on his face, and he's still feeling lightheaded from the excitement of the situation.

"I..." He takes in an uneven breath, trying to calm down. "I.. I've.. I certainly do want more, yes.." He tries to steady his voice, trying not to let his nerves stop him from being completely honest with you.

“Good boy.” You offhandedly say as you pull down his trousers and leave him in his underwear in the cold bathroom.

Spencer’s face turns even more red when you leave him in just his underwear, so exposed. He shivers, but your words and your boldness warm his skin anyways. His breath is shaky, as the excitement and the embarrassment still have a death grip on him.

"W-Wait.. What... what are you doing now? Please... this is all so..." He whimpers out, seeming a bit out of his element with all of this, but still, he can't help but be incredibly turned on by your words and your touch.

You look up at him with hungry eyes and hold the band of his underwear in your fingers, threatening to pull them down. “Tell me to stop.”

He looks at your hungry eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He's afraid of what happens next, but he's also incredibly turned on by you and wants to see where this goes. He smiles mischievously before he speaks to you with a bit of a fearful tone.

"Please... don't stop."

You coo at his words and finally start to pull down his underwear. “See.. I knew you were a smart boy.”

His face heats up again as you start to pull down his underwear. It should be embarrassing, he doesn’t even know you, but the excitement has taken over, and the feeling is far more powerful and more intense. He still feels breathless as he watches you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to take them off of him, as there’s a clear obstruction that’s preventing you from pulling them clean off, but when his heavy length subconsciously flexes in front of your face as you stare up at him in absolute awe, and a little bit of amusement.

“Well, whatever you lack in social skills you really make up for now.”

His entire body is shaking with excitement and nerves, and his breath is already shaky as you look him over and stare at his cock like it’s your last meal. He blushes again when you laugh at him a little bit. He can't help but smile at your words.

"Y-you certainly know how to get a rise out of me..”

You laugh again at his choice of words. “Yeah, I can see that.” Your hand reaches out and strokes his exposed thighs, so close to where he so desperately needs it.

The brunet gasps, clearly surprised by your actions. This is all getting to be way too much for him to handle, and he's already feeling completely swept off his feet. He can't even think straight, let alone speak.

He just breathes heavily, feeling all too dizzy as this all happens. It's almost too much for him to take in, but he's too turned on to even bother fighting it.

And you were only adding onto it. Your hand moves from his thighs and to his dripping cock, giving him an experimental tug. He’s warm and hard in your palm, you can’t help the way your tongue peeks out and runs along your lips.

He lets out a soft gasp, and any attempt at keeping a straight face is gone the second your hands start stroking him. He's completely overcome with sensations, and his mind and his body are almost unable to keep up with all of this. His whole body shakes, as if his every nerve is on high alert, and you can hear his breath become shaky with all the excitement. He seems to be losing his ability to speak completely, as his mind and his body are now completely controlled by all the new and powerful feelings that you're causing him to experience.

Your strokes along his dick speed up, you wanted nothing more than to hear and see him fall apart above you. You see his knees buckle at the sensation and you huff out a silent laugh.

His breath becomes more and more heavy and erratic. He's almost completely at your mercy, unable to think straight or even stand fully upright. He looks at you, barely able to stop himself from falling over when his gaze meets yours. He's so turned on by your touch that he can't even put a thought together.

The touch, the feeling, it's just too much for him to take in, and he has no control over himself in this state. He's completely yours if you want him, and it's almost frightening to feel that kind of complete and total surrender of control.

You watch him fall apart in your hold above you, and smile adoringly at his shaking figure. You wanted to corrupt this man, take him away from the shy, nerdy man he was, and turn him into your personal bitch. Not wasting another moment, your mouth encompasses him.

His eyes wide open, and you can see the shock in them. Sure this was expected, but the feeling almost had him toppling over on top of you.

“Oh.. Oh my god..”

But at the most basic level, this is what he has always wanted. He has always wanted to escape from all the social expectations of him, and he has always wanted to be released from all of the inhibitions of the past. This is his chance to let loose, and even the shock of the moment can't make him hesitate.

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head and his body suddenly relaxes. You smile around your mouthful and look up at him with admiration shining in your eyes.

He lets out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless in your hold. He can't help but look back down at you in awe and pure lust, unable to think straight and enjoying every second of it.

His surrender is total, and he looks completely at your mercy. He really is completely yours to do whatever you want with, and he's enjoying every moment of this completely unhindered passion.

You pull back and press a kiss to the sensitive tip, a string of precum connecting from the head to your shiny slick covered lips.

“How’s it feel, baby?”

"It.. you... it's... it's amazing.. You’re so good."

He sighs contentedly, feeling utterly lost in all of the passion, the new feelings, the sensation.. he is completely swept off of his feet and can't help but express his pleasure with high pitched whimpers and moans.

You laugh at his reaction before diving back in. Your throat completely encloses around him, squeezing around that rock solid length that’s pulsating in your mouth. Spencer throws his head back against the door and reaches a hand up to cover the moan that inevitably slips through his fingers anyways.

With every pass of your warm and wet mouth over his leaking tip and heavy cock, he can feel himself being lassoed to a brink of pleasure he’s never experienced before. His body begins to be wracked with shudders and he quickly taps on your shoulder in a panic.

You don’t pull away like he was expecting, but instead, you just look up at him with awaiting eyes. It had never occurred to you before that he’s never had an orgasm, but it all clicked when you realized.

With the way his legs were shaking, one hand trying to push you away and the other covering his mouth, and how he tried so desperately to look you in the eyes, but always ended up failing when they rolled back into his skull.. He was entirely yours.

“I-I don’t know what’s.. P-Please.”

The wet noises of your mouth around him only grow louder as you begin to speed up. The familiar ache in your jaw starts to set in, but you know it’s not much longer until he’s completely and utterly shattered by his own orgasm.

Your hands reach up to hold his bony hips, and you use the hold to push him deeper down your throat. His mouth drops open in pants, trying to get out a sentence but all that came out were incoherent moans and broken words.

With an almost ear shattering moan, he fills your mouth with his hot and sticky release. The hand covering his mouth proved to be more than useless as whimpers and whines poured from his bitten lips.

His thighs shake around your head and you continue to suck his softening cock, wanting to milk him for every last thing he was worth, and make his first release worthwhile.

“Ple-Please..”

Before his knees could give out on him, you pull away and swallow. There’s some of his spend dripping from your lips, and the look you give him is primal as you wipe it off with your finger and put it right in your mouth.

His eyes roll back at the gesture and you stand up to pull him into a sloppy, downright filthy kiss. When you pull away, he smiles down at you and tries to find his own voice. When he speaks, it comes out raspy, no doubt ruining his throat through all the moans and screams he let out.

“D-Do I... Do I get to know your name now..?” He pants out as you tuck him back into his underwear and pants.

“At least take me on a date first, Spence.”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer reid

1K notes · View notes

ncteez · 1 year

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Menace (m.yg)

When you learn of a hostage within the confines of the abandoned apartment building downtown, you weren’t expecting it to be Min Yoongi, the most wanted man in the country by gangs and policemen alike. or the one where yoongi wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a situation with his own enemy, nor was he prepared to be kept alive by and ultimately infatuated with one that calls herself Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend.

ao3 | m.lists | leave feedback and reblog to give gangster yoongi a boner.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 11k

PAIRING― gangster!yoongi x afab reader

CONTENT― yoongi is mad that he has to be submissive sexually, smut, grotesque descriptions of blood and gore, food mentions, you’re still really soft despite being surrounded by killers. FYI: the use of the word brother in this fic is not indicating that the characters are blood related.

SIDE CHARACTERS― namjoon as the leader of a gang and also your boyfriend, jungkook as a fellow gang member on your end.

WARNINGS― namjoon is fucking awful, yoongi is a lil mean but still a big softie, intense descriptions of starvation, torture methods, and broken fingers, mentions of suicide, mentions of r*pe (in passing), mentions of killing methods like drowning, stabbing, shooting, catching on fire. fr, this fic is very unsavory but they still fuck so, take that as you will.

NOTE― listen. this started as a different idea and ended as this so, fr, don’t even read it. if you do, just be aware that I am not responsible for the content you consume, i’m just responsible for being down bad enough to write it :) if you send me an off hand message you will be blocked for not knowing how to avoid content you don’t like. bye (p.s. we are just gonna pretend that people do not need to use the bathroom in this fic bc im not about to find a work around to let this man relieve himself. no piss or shit will be mentioned in this fic or in any of my fics ever. thanks.)

smut tags under cut::

smut tags :: pain, making out, frottage, biting, dirty talk, mocking, uh….getting turned on by the idea of Namjoon dying, unprotected sex, cream pie, mentions of eating pussy, mentions of multiple orgasms

The leaking ceiling was somehow nicer sounding than the one in his apartment, and his bruised ribs feel less painful now that he’s laid here for three days on the cold and molded floor. Plenty of time to heal, plenty of time to think, and plenty of time to build up a distinct type of rage within his body.

If he hadn’t made that tiny mistake, he would be at the shop surrounded by faces that are sworn to protect him. He would be swimming in money, women, and eating only the finest delicacies this city has to offer. But no, he had to trust the wrong fucking person.

It was impressive actually, that the man going by the name of “John” managed to slip through the cracks. Yoongi grew fond of him quickly, especially with how eager the newcomer was to kill and maim not only alongside him, but for him without a single doubt.

He should have known that he was experienced, especially with the way he killed, with the way he drank, with the way he fucked every woman accepted in the confines of the hideout. He should have known that he was in a gang already, and that said group had been out to get him for years.

Jungkook was his real name. A man who had been given endearing nicknames from both himself and other high-ranking men within this gang. He answered most to the name of “Jojo”, looking Yoongi dead in the eye with vicious intent and loyalty. He was a good liar, better than himself, apparently.

Yoongi really messed up, learning the truth only when he was met with Namjoon, face to face and battered up black and blue before being restrained and left in this unknown location. Naturally, there is a type of rage within him right now that could kill a large sum of men in one breath.

Unfortunately, he can’t. His wrists have been bound in the same position for three days, and he has still been unable to unbind them. His legs are numb from the stomping, but still working through the intense pain of his attempts at slithering across the floor to find a new spot on the cold ground.

The room is empty, there is nothing save for a chair in the corner and a doorknob that remains locked. There is only a single window, both the walls and floor are concrete and cinderblocks, and the only sound he’s heard since his last broken finger cracked through his ears, is the sound of that fucking water dripping.

He lifts his head, only to drop it back to the floor in a huff. Not quite in a sound of defeat, but more so a sound of frustration. Surely the men who did this have already been killed, surely his loyal friends are searching for him. Surely–

A new sound.

Yoongi can barely comprehend hearing something other than the slow and consistent drip, drip, drip of the ceiling leaking just a few feet from him. He’s grown weak within the three days he spent here, delirious even. No food and only those very drips of water to quench his sore and dried out throat. That sound is familiar though, and his drowsy eyes can hardly make sense of it.

Then another new sound. Something clicking. Echoing through these empty walls and meshing with the two other sounds, creating a new song in his head that somehow seems like bliss.

He thinks hard about the tune in his head, wondering if it’s similar to a song he knows, or if he’s just going insane from the feeling of his stomach both healing and starving. It is too much sensation for him, as he curls up in a pathetic little ball of a person and wonders what the others would think to see him like this.

He lays there, thinking about those sounds becoming louder and louder before his eyes shoot open in realization.

Those are footsteps.

An immediate headache hits him when he forces his body up, sitting uncomfortable on the floor with his arms still twisted behind his back. He stares at the door in wait, wondering if it’ll be his brothers bursting through, or an enemy.

When that door opens though, his face twists similar to the way it did when he was getting held down and his fingers snapped to the side.

“F-” he tries to say upon seeing Jungkook for the first time since it all went down, but his throat is too dry to speak and he coughs instead.

“Happy to see me?” Jungkook smiles, stepping to the side to reveal another person with him.

Yoongi glares, not paying attention even the slightest to the person standing just behind him. That clicking sound matched her shoes, so pristine against this dirty floor. He doesn’t dare speak again, as his eyes trail down to the gun in Jungkook's hand, and then shift to the side at the plastic bag in her hand.

He can make out a bottle, and possibly, food. He won’t grove for it though, no.

“Damn, you guys really fucked him up. I never thought you actually caught him.” You smile in an uneasy way, walking back alongside Jungkook and making your way out of the building.

“Told you we got him. Namjoon seemed really pleased, you think he’s finally going to let me into the circle?” Jungkook’s shining eyes somehow seem innocent with that question as you look at him.

“If he wasn’t fond of you, he wouldn’t have let you escort me here,” You start, lowering your sunglasses from your head to your eyes to avoid the bright sunlight once you step outside. “He would have brought me himself. You’re already in.”

“You certainly complained enough wanting to see, I was shocked he even let you this time, even more shocked that he asked me to bring you.”

Jungkook smiles again, wanting to pat himself on the back for his hard and dedicated work to Namjoon. He’s a harsh man but one that he wants on his side nonetheless. If this is going to be his life he’d rather be sitting in the room drinking expensive liquor than out running the streets and committing petty crimes.

This was his deal and he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t fuck it up again. He was very nearly kicked out, and by kicked out, he means killed by Namjoon himself. Why? Well, as experienced as he is at killing, fighting, and being an asshole, he wasn’t too experienced with smuggling substances across country lines.

He got it easy though, thankfully being caught by one of them that resides within the government factions. Then again, that man ran straight to Namjoon and complained on his name, stating that they were all at risk of being caught if it wasn’t for the nim-witted officer he was stationed with that night.

Started off well enough, Jungkook coughed the wrong way and his hands shook slightly. The officer immediately wanted to search the vehicle. Thankfully, one of theirs took over, and what did he find? Exactly what was he knew would be there.

Namjoon was pissed at the situation. Hauling Jungkook in as if he were one of their hostages, towering above him on the floor and tipping his head back with the heel of his expensive boot.

“What should I do with you now?” Namjoon said to him, huffing in a gutteral way out of frustration. “You’re telling me you can kill three men without breaking a sweat but you can’t get through a security check without shivering in fear?!”

Jungkook knows better than to speak, he simply nods.

“You’re lucky it went down the way it did, and you’re lucky your cousin put in a good word for you.” Namjoon continued, crouching down to Jungkook’s level on the floor and looking him in the eye. “If you fuck this one up, you’re done.”

Honestly, he couldn’t believe the kindness Namjoon gave to him. He’s known for having a temper, and he’s known for being unforgiving, but he got a second chance, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up.

That deal was to run off and act much like he did while trying to smuggle those drugs. Be a puppy for another gang, get close, get in with the crowd, and then get Min Yoongi. The man who killed Namjoon’s closest brother some four years ago. His grudge never left, and unfortunately, Yoongi was very nearly untouchable.

Jungkook did his duty, and now, he’s in. The girlfriend of Namjoon himself said so and with that, he can’t help but feel proud when he sees that man suffering in the room alone. He can’t help but be happy as he escorts you back to Namjoon. Truly, he can’t help it.

“We can’t just starve him.” You argue another three days after you last saw proof of the man confined in that abandoned building.

“This is why I forbid you from seeing the hostages. ” Namjoon tries not to argue with you, but it’s gotten to the point that you really just need to sit down and shut up about it. “He killed the only other man I could trust, and you want me to give him a fucking menu?”

“Well, no but,” You start, but Namjoon cuts you off.

“That’s enough. If you’re so worried about him tell Jungkook to swing by with some dog food.”

You look to the floor with a short nod, knowing for a fact that this is just the way it goes. You figured your boyfriend would want to strangle the man with his bare hands rather than let him rot away slowly. There’s too many opportunities for Yoongi to be found there, and far too many variables in the situation. The least he can have is a meal before he dies, right?

Then again, you know you’re quite soft despite the lifestyle you live. Min Yoongi is not a good man, but he is still a man. You’re a bit curious about him too. He was kind of cute even as he sat on that floor battered, so those rumors about him being easy on the eyes were true. Not that a scale of attractiveness really matters, considering he’s killed people from this family with a smile on his face.

You think hard that night, alone in bed as Namjoon probably mingles around the club he recently took control of. Imagining how awful the hostage must feel, all alone in the dark. It has you thinking a bit too hard about what it means to be human. You know where that apartment building is, and you know where the nearest convenience store is. Jungkook already knows you tried to feed him once and it didn’t work (because Yoongi kicked it across the floor out of spite.), so you’re unsure of how it would go down if you went alone.

Still, it’s not like you’d be in any danger, not when you grab one of the guns and slide it into an empty purse.

Arriving at the building feels scarier than it did when Jungkook was with you. It’s dark, and you can hear creaking as the wind picks up and rain begins to fall. Still, you take a deep breath and rush inside with another offer of food.

You follow your footsteps from before. Left, left, down a flight of stairs, right, and left. The hallway that contains his prison feels much longer than before, and the sound of rain is nearly muted at this point. You feel as if you’re buried deep within a tomb, with a flashy and loud bag of snacks for a man that killed your boyfriend’s brother.

It feels silly, but you still think you could at least try to communicate with him. However stupid this decision is, you pay no mind.

When you get to the door, the room is so dark and quiet that you wonder if you either picked the wrong room or he’s dead already. Still, you flip on the flashlight you grabbed and place it on the chair in the corner, shining it directly at the man lying on the floor.

You take a moment to look around and smile slightly when you notice the food he kicked from him before has been eaten. Surely that pack of crackers and bottled water wasn’t enough, but it’s all Jungkook would let slide without fearing for his life again.

“Hi.” You say in a peppy voice, seemingly in a much better spot than he is and accidentally making it more obvious.

Yoongi groans, rolling over to look at you briefly before letting his head fall back to the floor.

“I brought food again. There’s more this time.” You smile when you say it, shaking the bag as if Yoongi truly were a dog that would jump and do tricks for the food. “It’s against the rules, and I’m not supposed to be here so I suggest you fucking appreciate it this time.”

He rolls his eyes as he lies there, weak and hardly able to move. He does try though, more willing now to grovel, more willing to do just about anything for food so he can at least get his thoughts straight.

You watch him struggle to sit up, and only now realize that he really is dying. He’s actually starving and probably can’t simply appreciate the food if he doesn’t have the energy to even hold his head up.

“Do you need some help?” You ask, walking around and shining the light at his face.

You’re taken aback by his eyes. They’re dull and lifeless as he gives a small nod. You can see that he’s silently pleading.

“Ah, right. Starvation and all that.” You say with a pained laugh, grabbing the bag and scooting it next to him before crouching down and trying to lift him up.

His body is horrendously lightweight, and something inside of you twists at the feeling of him slumped in your arms. You hold him there, listening to his pained groans as you glance around the room and start to drag him.

“Here, sit up,” You say, propping him against the wall and going back for the bag. “I’ve got two sandwiches, two bottles of water, and an ibuprofen.”

You see his pained and choked chuckle at the mention of an ibuprofen, as if that’s a bandaid for the immense amount of anguish he’s been feeling. Still, he relishes in the feeling of another person being near him. The energy alone helps him keep his eyes open.

“Can you chew?” You ask, looking at him as you unwrap a sandwich and try to place it against his lips. “Um,”

You feel defeated seeing someone in this state so closely. Regardless of what he’s done, you feel pity and slight disgust of his treatment. No wonder Namjoon forbids you most of the time from meeting hostages or looking at crime scenes as if it were a zoo for your entertainment.

“You must feel awful,” You whisper, trying again to push the sandwich past his lips. “Can you eat this for me?”

He tries. Opening his mouth and feeling the sensation of taste. His mouth waters and burns at the sudden feeling, drool running out of the sides of his lips as he tries to work up the energy to chew. His throat is too dry to swallow though, and he chokes on the barely chewed piece of sandwich.

You’re quick to grab a bottle of water and tilt his head back. You grab his cheeks and hold his head steady and his mouth open, pouring a bit of the water into his mouth and watching how long it takes for him to swallow both the food and the water.

“God, I know I should be hating you but this really is pitiful.” You comment, feeling as if you’re already talking to a corpse.

In a way you are, and you hate it. So maybe, knowing that Namjoon intends to leave this man here unbothered and unfed until he’s dead, surely you can…you know…help the situation.

On one end, you’re betraying an entire gang of men and women who have protected you for years. You’re betraying your boyfriend, the leader of that gang, but…humanity still exists within you. Since that night, feeding a viscous killer, you couldn’t stop thinking of the state he was in.

You knew Namjoon was a killer but he never let you see that side of him. You saw Yoongi once three days after his capture and he still looked alive and well despite being heavily beaten. And just those three days later, you saw how much the world seemed to have forgotten him.

You have heard whispers of the rival gang searching for him, but they have been met with no luck. You appear to be his only saving grace, which is a terrifying place to have put yourself in. Still, if they’re going to kill him, you’d rather they just shoot him in the head and leave it at that.

You’re meddling where you shouldn’t be, and you still have no idea why you feel compelled to do it.

On the other end, you find yourself in deep shit when you continue to visit Yoongi late at night to essentially undo what your boyfriend has ordered. You notice how far you’ve gone when Yoongi can start talking, when he can start moving, when his eyes brighten up a little more, when his cheeks become fuller.

The moment you see him, with faded bruises and still swollen fingers, you wonder what he looked like without being so fucked up. His face is still pretty, even when he was on the verge of death, and here you are watching him appreciate that you, an enemy, continue to keep him alive.

“He’s going to kill you for this, you know.” Yoongi comments, eating away at the meal you’ve brought him this time. “Feeding me so often. I’m pretty sure they were leaving me here to die.”

“They were.” You huff, sitting on the wooden chair and watching the way his energy grows. “I figure if I get caught, I’ll just kill you first and then myself.”

“Bold,” He ticks his tongue, still not looking away from the food in front of him. “I can imagine they think I’m already dead.”

A wave of cold fear hits you. That’s right. Surely by now, he would be dead, and surely they’d come check and hide the body or something. But no one has shown up, no one but you. You can imagine that by now, they’re probably planning to come see him, and seeing him alive and well would pose questions. Lots of questions.

Thankfully, no one notices when you leave at night. You never leave when Namjoon stays with you, and you never make yourself suspicious either. If they have any questions, they certainly wouldn’t expect you to be the one to answer them.

“So, why’d you kill him?” You ask, wondering if you can at least learn some information about him before all of this comes crashing down around him.

“Kill who? I’ve killed a lot of people, most of them I don’t even know their names.” He laughs, narrowing his eyes at you. “Who are you, anyway?”

You pause. He’s still a dead man despite that beating heart so telling him wouldn’t change a thing, you assume. You give him your name and follow up with your title.

“You’re dating that pompous asshole? You know what he did to my family, right?” Yoongi looks at you with a face you hadn't seen before. There’s a lot of hate behind it as he sneers at you.

“I don’t, no. But I can imagine he probably killed them, right?”

Yoongi nods with a grimace, for the first time losing his appetite. It’s laughable, really.

“If you’re referring to his friend, I shot him. It was a quick death. But do you know what he did to my friends?” He continues with an evil smirk, as if telling you will hurt you as much as he’s been hurt.

You shake your head, breathing in deeply at the images in your head.

“Well, you saw what he was doing to me. I’m shocked he was being so kind with my demise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, both curious and afraid to actually learn what he means.

“Have you ever seen what happens to a body after they’ve been floating in murky water for a week?”

You shake your head.

“Have you ever heard the snap of a neck?”

You again, shake your head.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” He laughs, now gaining his appetite back. “Both of those things, I'd love to do to your boyfriend.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for some reason, you don’t shiver.

“Are you saying those are things he’s done?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Well, yeah. Most of us have. But him. He’s particularly brutal, likes to send us videos, y’know? I bet you’ve never watched the only person you’ve ever loved get doused in gasoline and set on fire either, have you?”

You freeze, another chill running down your body. Namjoon did that? Like, you knew killing was part of it but you really expected a typical gunshot or stabbing. This, this is something else. Given, you watched him starve the man in front of you so, should it be as shocking as it is?

But it is, because he did this to someone’s girlfriend? You’re his girlfriend, and by doing that to Yoongi, surely that put a hit on your head.

“He’s not so pretty in your head now, huh?” Another laugh.

“Is that why you killed him?” You ask, trying to avert the attention to someone other than Namjoon.

“No. Unfortunately, I was the one who did the first hit. But to be fair,” Yoongi twists his wrists bound behind him and tilts his head in a playful way. “He did some unsavory things to that same person I loved.”

Unsavory things. You can’t imagine what that could be outside of, well, rape. Namjoon’s best friend, his brother, raped Yoongi’s girlfriend. And then Namjoon set her on fire in retaliation?

“Why are you so quiet now?” Yoongi asks, finishing off his food with little to no hesitation and staring at the water. “Not too happy to learn that I’m not the only piece of shit you seem to cling to?”

You take offense to that, eyes trailing to that same bottle of water he’s looking at.

“Fuck you.” You say, standing from your place and grabbing that bottle of water, opening it, and pouring it out on the floor in front of him. “If you're thirsty, there, have at it.”

You don’t even look at him when you turn and walk away, locking the door and promising yourself that you won’t come back. There’s no way Namjoon did those things, and you’re not fucking clinging.

Fortunately for Yoongi, no one unsavory shows up two days later. It’s you again, reluctantly stepping in with his delivery of food and energy.

“Here I was thinking you wouldn’t come back.” He laughs, scooting from the wall and toward you. By now his legs are feeling better, and he can even move some of his fingers, which is very lucky because he really thought they had been twisted.

“You’re lucky I did.” You deadpan, walking up to him and looking down. “I learned that maybe you’re not much of a liar, are you?”

He tilts his head at you with a smirk, nodding his head in a genuine way.

“I’m either going to die, or you are. What’s the point in keeping secrets?”

You nod brokenly, breathing in a deep sigh and still trying to process the things you confirmed on your own. Jungkook may be in, but he sure does have a loud mouth when you start asking him questions. The good news is that, if Namjoon found out Jungkook shared those secrets, he’d be on the chopping block again. So, he’s kind of stuck with you in this limbo of wondering who to trust and who not to trust.

You, now fearing your own boyfriend who not only holds you on the nights he’s home, but tells you he loves you, feel at a loss when you look at Yoongi.

Both men have committed atrocities and it’s funny how you expected them to have not been that way. At least the man before you told you the truth though. He protected a person he loved, and Namjoon killed people for it.

“Yoongi.” You say his name for the first time and he grimaces immediately at it.

“What makes you think we are on a first name basis?” He asks, snidely.

“I had to feed you like a fucking baby, I can call you whatever I damn well please.” You argue, stepping back and reaching for the chair to sit in front of him.

“You think you can just call me whatever you want because you chose to fuck your life up and keep me alive?” He laughs again, clearly very aware of the position he’s in but still unafraid. “So fucking clingy. I don’t see how he stands it.”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek at the audacity of this man.

“Have you ever heard of saying “Thank you”?” You ask, rolling your eyes and kicking him over.

He falls with a huff, but lays there chuckling about it.

“Either way, Jungkook said he was ordered to come here in two days to get rid of your body. So, I suggest you either roll over and die or we figure something out.”

“We?” He questions, sitting himself back up and looking at you with a raised brow. “So, you’re working for me now?”

You look around the room, wanting to cry because it damn well seems that way considering what you’ve learned. Namjoon would probably kill you without blinking . Unfortunately, yeah, maybe you are.

“It seems so.” You look at him, noticing how his once dull and lifeless eyes are full of energy and rage. Noticing even more how he looks up and down your body.

You can imagine the man is touch starved, and for some reason, that is…kind of attractive. Such a wanted man checking you out as if you both aren’t on the verge of being shoved into a morgue freezer.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes stay roaming, and then he flicks them back up at you. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, it’s pretty hot to know you’re turning your back on that piece of shit.”

In his head, he’s very clearly barely back to reality. After all, he’s been in this room entirely alone save for you. Nearly dying and then coming back from the brink of death because of you. Is it so wrong for him to kind of, you know, be a man in such a dire situation?

“I haven’t turned my back on him! I’m just,” You pause, going quiet for a moment to think. “I’m just trying to figure out if I can accept what he’s done.”

“And so, you’re asking me what to do so we both don’t get killed? Hate to tell you babe, but even if you chose to stay, I'd tell them the second they find me alive that you’re the one who fed me.”

You glare at him, knowing that you’re both facing a brick wall with guns pointed to your head.

“I bet you would.”

“He and I are pretty similar, watching you die wouldn’t sting even a tiny bit.” He continues, poking and pushing the buttons he realizes you have. “Thank you though.”

You look down at him, tilting your head and, for some reason, smiling.

“You’re welcome.” You say, standing to your feet and walking around him.

He protests the second he feels your arms snake around him and try to lift him. His body now having a bit more weight to it, you feel pleased that you kept him alive, for some reason.

“Sit on the chair.” You say, still tugging him up and noticing how he wobbles on his legs.

Yoongi says nothing, for some reason no longer fighting and instead focusing on seeing if his legs still work. Somehow, they’re not broken, and he’s able to stand on them for a brief moment before leaning the entirety of his weight on you.

“Clingy.” He laughs in an out of breath whisper, fumbling to the chair and finally falling into it.

“Did you love your girlfriend?” You ask, stepping back and looking at him propped in his chair.

“I did.” He admits, looking straight past you and at the wall. “Can’t now though.”

You look to the ground.

“Would you have killed her if she kept Namjoon alive behind your back?” You ask.

“No.” He admits again, laughing at himself. “Would have killed myself before I ever laid a hand on her.”

You think hard about the similarities between Yoongi and Namjoon, but you struggle to find many of them. Which is terrifying.

“So, you really think Namjoon would kill me for the same reasons?”

“Babe,” He lets out a pained laugh for you, shaking his head in pity. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

You nod your head, because you honestly think he would too.

“So, what now?” You ask, knowing there is no answer to the question.

“I’d suggest you run home to him.” He says, nodding his head to the door as if to encourage you. “I don’t suppose I can expect you to accidentally let one of my family members know where I am though, can I?”

“No,” you say sadly, trying to force the tears threatening to shed to stay behind your eyelids. “I suppose you can’t.”

It’s silent for a long while, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. Realizing how much safer you feel in this prison compared to in bed next to Namjoon. It’s frightening, truly, that you could be killed simply for having humanity. Yoongi’s girlfriend was killed because his humanity drove him to revenge. Maybe you’re the one more similar to Yoongi.

“I’m not really going to tell them, you know.” Yoongi calls out, dropping his head and looking at you from under his messy hair. “I might kill, but rarely without reason. I’m satisfied enough with the idea that you might leave him.”

You stare at him.

“You’re too naive to be involved with all of this. He seems to do a pretty shit job at protecting you, considering you’re here with me.”

You continue to look at him, questioning every word he’s saying.

“You’re pretty similar to her, you know? I mean, minus the whole going behind his back thing.” Yoongi smiles when he looks at you, and arguably that expression hits you right in the gut.

“If I untie you, would you come after me?” You ask, studying him.

“Maybe, who knows?” He watches you go behind him anyway. “You like playing with fire, don’t you?”

His eyes light up at the feeling of you behind him, hoping to god you’re truly weak hearted enough to untie him. He could run, he could fulfill this rage growing in his heart, but those hopes are shattered when you come back into view.

You lean down, inches from his face and look directly into his eyes. Searching for a reason to think he would kill you the instant you untie those hands. What you see instead, is his eyes flicking to your lips.

You, in turn, flick your eyes to his and you don’t even know why you do it. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming feeling of death looming over the two of you. You hold Yoongi’s life in your hands, and he technically holds your life in his if he were to tell on you. The feeling is driven solely by fear, disgust, hate, pity.

You kiss him. His breath not offering much outside of the citrus fruit he had eaten when you offered it to him just an hour earlier.

It’s silent, and you can imagine he truly could have gone insane in this room all by himself. You feel yourself going insane too, despite feeling safer.

And when you pull back reluctantly, Yoongi’s eyes shine a little differently. His smirk is still scary but his eyes are soft and pleading. That dull look in his eyes from the first night you fed him? That tiny little glint of need shining through to you? That is showing in full force and you wonder if he notices it.

“He’d definitely kill you.” Yoongi laughs, still looking at you.

It’s silent again, save for a few quick breaths leaving your chest. You give him a short nod, because you know he’s right and there’s no point in denying it at this point.

“But I wouldn’t.”

All you can do is fall farther into the insanity that fills this room at that. Leaning in and kissing him again, this time a bit more desperate, releasing all of the tension inside of you on him as you bring your body closer, and straddle his sore and weak legs.

“Are you asking to die?” He comments at your closeness, confirming that you may actually be as clingy as he joked that you were. It appears that death doesn’t seem to scare you at this moment, nor does it scare him.

If anything, having Namjoon’s girl straddling his lap without so much as asking for it is a new kind of desire in his mind. Namjoon may have killed his ex girlfriend, but he didn’t fuck her. Which, arguably, isn’t worse than losing her but still makes his heart race with anger at the thought. The idea of taking you from that man even for a moment is blissful. An ultimate insult, one that would piss Namjoon off beyond belief. Surely he’d be left in a different room to be eaten by rats next time he makes an attempt on his life.

“Hm?” Yoongi continues, letting you kiss him, feeling your weight on his sore body, kind of loving the feeling because he hasn’t touched a woman since his girlfriend died. But if he’s going to end up dead, he might as well fuck Namjoon’s girlfriend beforehand, right?

“Maybe I am,” you answer, breathlessly. “Are you?” You ask, leaning back and looking at him.

“You do realize I’m one of the most wanted men in this country, right?” He laughs, smirking and feeling quite cocky with the turn of events.

“That,” You eye him, feeling his length twitch beneath you. “you are.”

He chuckles, noting that you’re suddenly complimenting him now.

“Wanted by you wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but alright.” He shrugs, pressing his hips up and against you. “Can you at least untie my hands if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this?”

You shake your head, lifting off of him a bit and checking that his hands are still bound.

“No,” You laugh, sitting back down and noticing his harsh reaction to your weight on his legs again. “Does your dick still work?”

Yoongi glares, unsure of how he feels about fucking someone while bound and in pain like this, but who is he to say no? Again, Namjoon’s girlfriend. Rage and revenge. If he can live through a heavy beating and starvation, surely he can handle a girl bouncing on his cock.

“It appears so,” He says, feeling the twitch in his pants fight against the pain of his legs. “Why, you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe, who knows?” You respond, leaning back down and biting hard against his neck.

He glares at the wall, seemingly enthralled with the idea but still not entirely happy with the situation at hand. He’s not typically the person to be fucked, and yet, here you are moving your hips against his battered body, bumping against his cock each time.

Shaking himself out of it, he has to remember that again, this is Namjoon’s girlfriend and he wants to fuck her for no other reason than pissing him off. So, whatever.

“Are you this eager with him too?” He asks, trying to crane his neck from your biting mouth to get you to look at him. “or am I just lucky?”

Lucky, hah. You scoff against his neck before pulling back to look at him.

“You really do talk a lot of shit, you know that?” You say, deliberately pressing more weight against his legs to elicit a pained groan out of him.

“I’ve been told, yes.” He groans in a half laugh, not wanting to appear as broken as you know he has been. “You’re still the one trying to fuck enemy number one though.”

Internally, your heart is racing.

“Maybe I’m the lucky one then?” You offer, moaning a bit at the feeling of how hard he’s gotten despite the state of his body. “Most wanted man in the country right? Sitting right here, tied up, at my mercy.”

“Damn, I didn’t know Namjoon liked to be slapped around.” Yoongi laughs, wincing again at both the pain and pleasure you’re offering to him.

“He doesn’t.” You respond, tilting your head before leaning in close to his ear. “I’m the one who likes that.”

His arms shake within their bounds, broken fingers be damned he still has another hand to use.

“Then fucking untie me,” He grouches, huffing out through his nose and attempting to push you away by shifting his legs. “If you like it so much, let me do it.”

You shake your head again, this time with your own pitied laugh.

“You’d kill me. I know you said you wouldn’t but you were just trying to get on my good side.” You coo out at him after your comment, ghosting your lips over his. “It must hurt pretty bad to know how pathetic you look right now.”

He very nearly spits at you for looking down on him with intent. Sure, before you probably looked down on him because he was literally dying. But now? This is a blatant insult, and he can’t help but feel some of that rage build up within him.

“Pathetic?” He laughs, staring down at the way your hips continue to move. “You’re the one getting yourself off on a man who would kill your boyfriend in an instant.”

“Do it then.” you say, unsure of why you’re suddenly so okay with the idea of murder. Maybe because if Yoongi did it, you know he’d probably be quick with it. He didn’t seem to take pleasure in describing such gory scenes to you, so clearly he must not like to savor them either. Not like Namjoon, who appears to favor giving others a long and painful death.

“Fuck,” Yoongi calls out, being entirely aroused by your willingness to tell him to kill your boyfriend. The thought of hurting him alone could get Yoongi off within seconds. The relief of killing the man who caused so much pain would be better than any orgasm or twelve hundred dollar bottle of wine.

“Say that again,” Yoongi groans, replaying those words you just said in his head. His own hips moving against you now. “Say it and I swear I’ll kill him when I get out of here.”

You don’t comment at first. “when I get out of here.” he said, as if he knows for a fact you’ll untie him. As if he trusts that you’re with him one hundred percent. Hell, at this point, maybe you are. Feeling so unsafe and so very aware of how dead you actually may become, fighting to keep yourself alive is easier to swallow than letting your own boyfriend kill you for betraying him. Fight or flight, the brain works so strangely when it needs to survive.

“Do it,” You repeat, hearing his breath hitch in an embarrassing way. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you?”

He nods proudly, still writhing his arms and wanting so badly to be free, not even to escape at this point, but to hold onto your waist and feel more of that pain you offer to him.

“Fucking untie me.” He demands, legs shaking as he continues to try and chase the rhythm of your harsh grinding hips. “You think I’d kill you when you’re talking to me like this?”

“I think you would.” You laugh, now pulling back off of his lap and standing to your feet in front of him.

You look down at him, his cock towering in his dirty jeans. For some reason, you’re not disgusted by the fact that he’s filthy. You’re more disgusted with the idea of going home and smelling the shampoo Namjoon uses to wash the blood out of his hair.

“I wouldn't.” He repeats himself, now moving back and forth in his chair to try and unbind his hands much like he did the first night he was here. “If i planned on killing you, i’d fuck you first anyway.”

You narrow your eyes, watching him try to break free before you lunge forward and lean over him again. Much like before, you grab his face and force him to look into your eyes.

“I’m not untying you.” You say sternly, as if to warn him that it’s the final time you’ll say it. “You have two days left, and I’m not coming back after this.”

“I know.” He admits, bucking his hips up at nothing. “So, if you could just pull my dick out and get to it, I'd really appreciate it.”

You poke your tongue to your cheek again, wondering how the fuck this man manages to stay so confident in such a position. You wonder even harder why you listen to him.

Just as he asked, you lower yourself to your knees and lay your head on his knee. For a moment, he watches you and understands why Namjoon must like you so much. You’re pretty down there, with playful eyes even in the face of death. You’re definitely something else. One, for ending up with Namjoon, and two, for ending up in this room with him like this.

“I think you could probably drive anyone insane,” Yoongi says in a voice that seems too soft for him. “If he’s really stupid enough to kill you for giving him the chance to kill me again, he’s a lot more dumb than I expected.”

You smile, blinking up at his compliment.

“Thank you.” You say, feeling so lost in this situation that at this point, you feel like you’d rather just stay here and let Jungkook find you both two days from now. It’s a fucked up situation on all ends, but at least you feel okay right now, with your chin resting on a killer’s knee, glancing at his cock, wondering how you want to pleasure it.

He stops talking by this point, bucking his hips to encourage you to stop staring and pull it out. The sound of his clothing rubbing against that old wooden chair suddenly feels loud, and your ears begin to ring as your heart picks up.

There is a specific realization in this moment regarding all of that humanity that drove you to this point. Helping this man is one thing, but wanting him is something completely different. In your head, you question everything you feel at this moment. Are you chasing comfort from none other than, and he was right to say it, the most wanted man in the country? More wanted than Namjoon? Perhaps that’s because Namjoon has other’s do his dirty work though. Yoongi appears to kill personally, and quickly. It’s no wonder he got caught by the gang you call family.

You remember being told that they got him, and that he was to be killed. You remember mocking Namjoon, complaining that you wouldn’t believe it until you saw him. You remember Jungkook sitting in the driver’s side of the car and driving you here for the first time, and you remember that one of your first thoughts about Yoongi was that he didn’t look much like a gang leader lying on the floor like that. You thought he was cute, almost puppy like in his defiance.

When he spilled all of those truths about Namjoon and the men and women you are surrounded with, you did lean more into Yoongi than the people who claim to love you. You didn’t know why you kept him alive, you didn’t know why you betrayed those you love. If anything, you know now that is was simply humanity.

Something that you cling to, and something that the majority of people around you have thrown away. When you look at Yoongi though, alive because of you, you see his humanity too. There is a fire in his eye that doesn't sing out for rage and blood, no. It’s a look you couldn’t find in Namjoon’s eye just a day before. Humanity brought you to save this man, and it also brought you to find him attractive despite his state, and it also brought you to this. Wanting him.

Wanting to comfort him from those atrocities your boyfriend committed toward him, because you can defend why Yoongi killed the man who once brought you a cake for your birthday. You wanted to keep him alive because somehow, in your gut, you knew he didn’t deserve to die this way.

And now, so terrified of what this situation might bring, you’re turned on by fear. The arousal of him talking so much shit, complimenting you through insults, looking at you in a way Namjoon never did drives a distinct type of butterfly within your belly. You fear every single person outside of this room, but Yoongi. You want him to yourself.

Yoongi watches you against his knee, seemingly in deep thought as your face falls and lightens up with realization. He finds himself smiling at the situation. He was really quite lucky for Namjoon to be dating such a woman. If he hadn't been, surely he would be dead and limp in the corner, rotting until his body is hidden elsewhere two days from now. But he’s not, his heart is beating and his cock is raging much like the hate in his heart for the men who seemed to have claimed you.

Don’t get him wrong though, it’s not that he likes you in the way Namjoon seems to. He gets why he does though. The fact of the matter is that you put yourself in a terrifying situation to keep him alive for no reason that has truly been given. It’s natural for him to owe you now, and what he owes you is nothing short of his own life for putting yourself in the line of fire like this.

Yoongi does like you though. Likes the way you look at death the same way he does, being reckless and making mistakes despite clearly having some sort of intelligence. His attraction to you comes in the form that you’re a woman, you’re Namjoon’s woman, you’re attractive, and you really did give him his life back. Even still restrained, he’s turned on beyond belief. Never having been put in a situation where he fucks the inevitable out of his mind, but it’s exactly what he intends to do.

Not just to spite Kim Namjoon, but also to somehow repay you. You got on top of him, you kissed him, and if you want to fuck the life of out him, he owes you that much too. At least when you leave him here, if you leave him here, he knows that he made you feel good too.

“Well?” He finally says, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts and making your eyes shoot back up to him. “You just gonna look at it or?”

You blink twice before glancing back down at his cock and feel the resolve within you strengthen. Your mind is suddenly so clear when you reach forward and unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs and completely off of him.

You gasp when you see how bruised his legs are, realizing that you were just sitting directly on them. Thankfully, again, they’re not broken but you can imagine the weakness he feels.

“Oh.” You breathe out, letting your fingers ghost over one of the deepest and darkest bruises. Shaped like a boot and showing a pattern that looks very similar to the pair of boots your boyfriend wears. You watch him wince at the energy of your fingers, not even touching the spot but simply close enough to still somehow manage to hurt him.

“I’ve had worse,” he urges you, leaning forward a bit and looking at you. “What, you think I can’t handle a couple of bruises?”

You look up at him, trying to push the range of colors against his skin out of your mind as your eyes land and focus back between his legs. Not surprising that it can distract you almost instantly as it stands against the last remaining restraining fabric.

His hips buck up when he sees your hands go for the waistband of his underwear, licking his lower lip with a silent chant in his head of yes, yes, yes! Perhaps it’s because he lost his mind, but it’s really not such a bad deal to be able to get so turned on in a situation like this. After all, he owes you, so he might as well get into it, right?

When you pull off his underwear, instantly you’re just staring. In awe that he can manage to be turned on at all right now, ultimately quite happy that it still works too.

“I bet all the girls love getting fucked by you.” You comment, staring at his cock and the way it stands more lively than the rest of his body.

“On the contrary babe. I don’t fuck just anyone.” He chuckles snidely, looking down at the way your eyes swallow him up. “If I’m fucking someone, only I’m fucking her.”

“Lucky her, bet you go for the pretty ones too.”

“You misunderstand me,” he chuckles softly, his cock twitching at the way your energy changed once you got a good look at it. “If I fuck her, she’s only fucking me.”

You pause, noting another lack of similarity between Yoongi and your boyfriend. Namjoon fucks other women, sometimes in just a room over from you. Part of you wishes he was as possessive as the man before you on all fronts. Enough to kill a man for you like Yoongi did, enough to starve and suffer in a room for protecting you.

“What happens when Namjoon gets his hands on me again, then?”

“He won’t be able to once I’m done with you.”

You pause, unsure if that’s a threat on your life or a threat for a good time. The gamble is the same either way, so you offer him a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You ask, leaning forward and tip toeing your fingers up his length.

“You wouldn’t want him to fuck you.” He says snidely, shivering at your touch. “Let me show you what it’s like to actually get fucked.”

You breathe in deeply, pupils blowing out at the sound of those words. It only takes a moment to stand up and place yourself back on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes.

“Is that a promise?” You say, eyes burning in delight and ignoring the wince of pain that trembles through his body. “You think you can fuck me better?”

He smirks and nods his head, pushing his cock forward as his legs start to go numb under your weight. He’s no longer uncomfortable, thinking with only one part of his body.

“Let me,” He says, trying to show his dominance despite being restrained. “Sit on it and see, babe.”

You chuckle silently, lifting up on his lap and internally apologizing for the way your legs squeeze his thighs, he doesn’t react though. You snake your hands under your skirt to push your panties to the side and have no qualms with grabbing his cock and positioning it right where it needs to be.

Yoongi shivers at the feeling of your hand grasping him, and the image of your eyes not leaving his when you do it. For once in his life, he is feeling so out of control, owing someone else, all while being pleasured? Honestly, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time in captivity.

“Sit.” He says in a demanding way, feeling the way you hover over him and make attempts to tease the pleasure.

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do.” You laugh, still somehow following his order and sliding down just an inch and releasing a breath.

He hums at it, holding his own pleasure in and watching you attempt to control yourself just through the small amount of cock he’s got in you.

“Untie me, I’ll take care of you.” He tries to reason with you again, bucking his hips up and plunging another few inches against your aching walls. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, dropping your head to his shoulder as you brace yourself against the chair behind him. Slowly sinking down and adjusting to a size that isn’t what you’re accustomed to. And when you finally sit flush against his thighs, you spread your legs to offer him some relief and clench your pussy around him.

“Untie me,” he says again, thrusting his hips up beneath your weight and trying to force in more of him despite having no more to offer. “Fuck.”

You ignore his words and his chasing hips as your pussy hugs his length. You feel so full, so satisfied by his size inside of you. When he tries to fuck up, he doesn’t go far but the tight fit burns in a way that feels more arousing than you could have ever expected.

“You must hate being tied up,” You chuckle, finally moving your hips just a bit to relieve yourself of a bit of his length. “How does it feel to be at a woman’s mercy?”

Yoongi glares at you when you say those words, pressing up and struggling with his strength as he tries to force those few inches back into you.

“How does it feel?” He repeats the question to you. “I could be fucking the light out of your eyes right now if you’d just let me.”

You almost consider it, wondering what his working hand would feel like pressing against your skin. The other, too swollen and likely too painful to touch you. You’d still play with those fingers though, because the only way you can get a decent moan out of him is if he’s hurting.

“The light already left my eyes, Yoongi.” You say.

He doesn’t hear a word of it outside of you using his first name again. He rolls his eyes at you, dropping his head back in a frustrated groan at how he’s both getting what he wants, but also not.

“No, your eyes are still shining.” He says when he lifts his head back up to face you, and you pull back a bit, rolling your hips before finally lifting again to actually start riding him.

“So are yours.” You say, looking straight into them and smiling.

He doesn’t believe you, but the sensation of how wet you seem to be definitely would have any man’s eyes shining.

“How does it feel?” You comment, noticing the shiver that runs down his body and his heaving chest.

“Fucking tight.” He grimaces, “I’d keep you all to myself. Namjoon is a stupid, stupid man for letting you come here.”

“He’s a specific type of man,” You correct him, hovering over his lips. “Doesn’t even eat my pussy.”

“Goddamn, untie me.” Yoongi very nearly pleads, feeling the intensity of how your walls cling to him.

He’s aching so much. He’s so fucking angry, and yet, he really is about to beg for you to release him. Not to run, not to kill you, but to pleasure you.

You still ignore him, ghosting your lips over his and watching his eyes droop into a drowsy stare at you. You were right when you said his eyes were shining, even like this, they are. You could argue that he feels good, you could argue that if you untied him, maybe he really would fuck you better than Namjoon does.

“I bet you’d kill to have your hands on me right now, wouldn’t you?”

Yoongi nods brokenly, still trying to buck his hips up to make good on his promise, and still being met with frustration bubbling inside of him. He’s too restrained for this, his heart has grown soft at this ego blow, and yet, his cock still yearns inside of you.

“I would.” He admits, his voice so broken sounding that you almost feel as if you’ve pushed him to his limit.

“You’d eat me out too, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I would.” He admits again, this time seeming more determined as he starts to move his hands again in an attempt to free himself. “Let me.” He seethes out through a clenched jaw.

You ignore him.

“Let me.” He says again, this time in a half moan when you move your hips with more intent.

“If you make it out of here alive, I’ll let you.” You moan yourself, sliding back and forth against him, swirling your hips and feeling his weeping cock stretch you out even more.

“You’re fucking insane.” Yoongi groans, tensing his muscles to offer more support for your languid grinding. “Fucking me so slow, making promises you know you can’t keep.”

“I’ll keep them,” You say, lowering your face to his neck and reaching your hands behind him, rubbing against his arms. “You’re giving me so much power right now, it’s hard not to savor it.”

He chuckles at your boldness, once again leaning his head back against the chair and allowing himself to relish in the feeling of the way you ride him.

“If I make it out of here alive, I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him how wet and needy this pussy is for me.”

“You’re so honest,” you laugh, picking up pace and fiddling with the binds on his hands. “That’s why I’m not going to untie you.”

“Faster,” he groans, imagining that he has healthy and free hands, guiding your hips on him. If he’s going to have to be like this though, the least he can do is try and guide you to the pace he should be fucking you at in this moment. “I want to hear how wet you are.”

You smirk, pulling your hands back and grabbing his face. His cheeks are fuller now compared to that night you came to bring him his life back, and they look plush when you squeeze them and force his eyes to stay on you.

“Faster?” You ask, already pistoning your hips against him, the chair creaking and threatening to break under the weight the two of you offer. “Harder?” You ask, his eyes burning straight through you as if you’d be daring him to kill you if you don’t.

He’s pleased by your pace, falling into a world of arousal in his head as you ride him exactly how he wants it. He can hear the wetness seeping out of you, and the best part is that it’s for him and not that pompous asshole who nearly killed him.

You bounce, fast and hard, drilling his cock so deeply into you that he finally releases a moan of pleasure right against your lips before rolling his eyes back and giving in.

“Fuck, you do this for him, too?” He asks, eyes rolling back to look at you and the way the determination in your eyes only grows.

“No,” You say out of breath, keeping that same pace and hiccupping with small moans each time. “He never lets me ride him”

“Won’t eat you out, won’t let you ride him.” Yoongi mocks him, freely moaning now as you take him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much at this point. “I’d worship you.”

You pause your movements, out of breath as you look at him. You glance down to his smiling lips, and then back up at his eyes.

“I’d let you.” You say shortly, kissing him once again and returning back to your slow movements, pumping his cock inside of you so tightly that he fears this will end too quickly.

And it does, when you feel his tongue tense up in your mouth and he starts kissing you harder. His harsh voice releases whimpers and breaths into your throat. The sounds coming from him are unintentional and entirely too arousing to ignore. You can feel his length twitching aggressively inside of you, and you feel more full than you ever thought you could. You ride it out for him, giving him quick jerks of your hips to drag that sensitivity on as he finishes what you started.

And then it’s silent, but he’s still kissing you.

“Then let me.” He says once you part your lips, still holding him inside of you, and not daring to move a muscle.

You stay with him for a long while, torturing him in a way he finds himself loving by the time the sun rises and he now only has one day on this earth to live. You had spread yourself out on him, gotten him off twice, and then promptly moved him from the chair to get him on his knees.

It was the first time since you’d been with Namjoon that you felt a tongue against your clit, breaking your own promise of letting if happen if he gets out of this situation. Arguably, you felt like you fell into this hole with Yoongi far too deep to even consider crawling out of it. He ate you like he was still starving, smirking as you swirled your needy clit against his tongue. He was eager to take the parts of you that Namjoon never wanted, it seems.

And when the daylight rose and you were still here, panic sat in. You were filled with a man’s cum that isn’t your boyfriend’s. Your legs were arguably as weak as Yoongi’s, and you knew for a fact that your family was already wondering where you were. One of the cars would be missing, you’d be missing.

“What?” Yoongi asks, watching you in horror at the sudden shift of mood. Your face twisting in panic as you start to breathe heavily.

“I can’t.” You say shortly, scooting back further from him. “I don’t know why I’m doing this.”

Yoongi picks up quickly on what you’re referring to. He knew this night had to come to an end though, and he knows for a fact that at least you got to experience him for who he truly is, and not the rabid criminal Namjoon seems to believe he is.

“Probably because you know Namjoon is going to mail your head to the police?” He laughs, sighing in defeat.

That is, until you stand up and walk behind him.

Instantly he feels the tight bind against his wrists loosen and now, he can look at the damage. His broken fingers aren’t twisted, and his wrists actually hurt more than they do. He turns to look at you as you stand there, struggling not to cry.

Honestly, he’s a bit frozen in place before he tries to stand. His legs buckle from the lack of use and from your weight on them, but he manages to balance himself and slowly take a step toward you with a look of appreciation.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, trying to balance himself but feeling his legs give in instantly. He crumbles to the ground with a pained groan. Embarrassed by his nudity and lack of strength.

You didn’t run, nor did you hide after you untied him. What you did do though, is set him free from this situation. He can leave now, and if he needs to, he can take you with him.

“Are you stupid?” He asks through his pain, standing again and internally forcing himself to walk. “Go on, run back to him.” He raises his voice.

You shake your head.

“I’m dead either way.” You say with a shaking voice, feeling a pit in your stomach still bubble with arousal but the reality hit you far too late.

“You saved my life and you’ve now given me a chance to fucking run. You think I’m going to let you die?” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Technically, it should be normal for a person to react this way, but Yoongi is a killer too. It’s not like you expect anything more from him, nor from Namjoon at this point when he ultimately learns that you’re the one who did this.

“If you want me to kill you so bad, I’d be happy to do it so you don’t have to fucking suffer but–” Yoongi goes silent for a moment, contemplating the position that he’s about to put himself in.

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, it couldn’t hurt much more than it already will.

“You could come with me. My men will protect you for keeping me alive. You’d be untouchable.”

You look at him, seemingly unsure at first.

“He’s probably already out looking for me.” You say in a smaller voice than before. “He’d know it was you.”

“No shit. Either you’re coming with me or not.” Yoongi deadpans, standing as still as he can so he doesn’t tumble over to the ground again.

You shrug in defeat, nothing left to say.

And then you’re getting into your car after the struggle and helping your enemy escape. He’s in the back seat, smiling up as he focuses his eyes outside.

“If you drive me straight to him, you know he’d probably forgive you, right?”

You ignore him, finding more comfort in the fact that he’d kill you for this.

“Just tell me where to go.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

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Sharing is caring

Adult Spider x female omatikaya reader x Adult Lo‘ak

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Sometimes, all you need is a good friend who is willing to share.

Warnings: explicit smut, mmf threesome, voyeurism, masturbation, p in v, cowgirl position, Spider is a switch, oral, creampie, praise kink, lil bit of polyamory if you squint

Notes: I feel like this isn’t my best work and it’s also the very first time I’m writing for Spider so have mercy on me! 😵‍💫

To say that Spider felt attracted to you was probably an understatement. And how could he not? You were just so beautiful to his eyes, blue skin like the ocean and big yellow eyes like the sun, always smiling and so friendly to everyone, it warmed his heart. It was nice to have you around, as you shared the same type of humor too and you were so incredibly adventurous. It was never boring with you. Unfortunately, you were already promised to someone else.

And Lo‘ak wasn’t blind. He saw the way his best friend was looking at you, his gaze always lingering a little too long on your body, his eye contact too intense for someone that only wanted to be your friend. But Lo‘ak wasn’t the jealous or possessive type. If anything, he rather enjoyed showing you off. It was such an ego boost for him, to have such a pretty girl like you by his side.

At the same time, Lo‘ak felt kind of bad for Spider. It wasn’t like he had many options to chose himself a girlfriend, like there were any other human women his age in high camp. Sure, there were enough Na‘vi women, but even if the omatikaya tolerated the humans, they still weren’t really fond of them. At least not enough to mate with one.

One thing Lo‘ak loved about you so much, was the way you treated Spider. You treated him like he was equal, one of your kind. And not just because he was his best friend since childhood. You were just such a pure soul, too kind for this world. And of course he noticed how much you enjoyed that little extra attention, the compliments and the heart eyes that the human shot you.

And so, the idea of sharing you with best friend, was something he became really fond of. It was a topic that was often bought up during especially intense moments, like when he had you on your hands and knees and was rutting into you like his life depended on it.

"Holy shit, look at you, pretty girl. You would look even better with another cock in you, don’t you think? Need someone to fuck your mouth while you cream on my cock. What do you think, should I call a certain someone in here to take good care of you too? Oh fuck, I know you’d like that, don’t you?"

It was filthy to talk and think about your friend like that, even more so because it was starting to sound more and more appealing to you too.

Lo‘ak didn’t mind it, though. Not in the slightest.

And when Spider 'accidentally' stumbled upon you in the forest, while your legs were sprawled over Lo‘aks shoulders and his tongue swirled around your clit, it was like a prayer had finally been answered.

Lo’ak knew that Spider was there, long before you realized it yourself. He heard the low buzz of his exopack, the way his breathing quickened and the rustle of leaves as he tried to hide himself.

Lo‘ak knew that he was watching and yes, maybe he did put a little extra effort into making a good show for his friend, coaxing these pretty moans from you, spreading your legs a little wider and making you cum on his tongue. He would lie if he said that it didn’t gave him kind of a rush to know that his best friend was probably fantasizing about his girl just the same way they did about him.

So when your legs began to tremble and you finally wriggled yourself out of your clothes, Lo‘ak didn’t continue the way he usually would. You frowned a little when he kept his loincloth on and instead leaned over to whisper something in your ear. Lo’ak chuckled with the way your ears twitched and a faint blush crept over your features when he told you that Spider was there and he was watching. He couldn’t help but kiss you deeply, when you gave him the go-ahead and then Lo‘ak turned around and beckoned his friend to come out.

"It’s okay, bro", Lo‘ak declared with a sharp grin, "I know you’re there."

Spider was red as a beet as he got up from his crouching position behind a tree and slowly walked over to the two of you, trying his best to avoid any eye contact. But it was so hard not to look at you, as you laid there in the soft grass, completely naked. It wasn’t like your usual Na‘vi clothing covered much of yourself, but seeing you so bare before him, with that cute little blush on your cheeks that reached up to the tip of your ears, really had his mind spiraling.

Spider was full on prepared for either you or Lo‘ak to send him off and never talk to him ever again. Maybe you would yell at him for watching you both like some creep or Lo‘ak would beat him up and– oh Eywa, if only the ground would open up and swallow him whole…

But neither of that happens.

Instead, Lo‘aks voice cuts through the awkward silence. "Do you want her?", he asks, voice low and thick like honey, his head cocked to the side and Spider tensed under his gaze.

"Bro listen, I‘m.. I‘m so sorry, that’s—"

"That’s not what I asked", Lo‘ak interrupts him with a chuckle.

Spiders eyes flick back and forth between the two of you. It’s not until you smile gently at him, your soft cheeks rising a little higher, while Lo‘ak tips his head in his direction, that he realizes he must’ve nodded. Yes, he wanted you. So bad.

Spider watches, with a lump in his throat, how you get up and move closer to him. The faint sunlight shining through the leaves of the giant trees compliments your skin, makes it shine and he can’t help but stare at the way your breasts gently bounce with every step that you take and by eywa, you look so beautiful that his mouth waters.

You were close now, close enough to feel the heat emanating from your body and smell your scent even through his mask. It was intoxicating. Spider was so lost in admiring you, that he didn't notice how you closed the gap between you both entirely and were now chest to chest with him.

"Take a deep breath, okay?", you whisper to him in such a sweet tone that for a moment, Spider doesn’t remember how to function at all. It’s not until your hands reach for his mask that he sucks in a sharp breathe. The masks opens with a hiss and his brows furrow, a questioning look on his face that makes you giggle.

And then your lips met his.

Once he starts to lean into the kiss too, you deepened it. You part your lips, pressing harder against his mouth. He makes a muffled sort of noise, but doesn’t pull away so you take it as permission to continue. You swipe your tongue against his bottom lip and he parts them, allowing you access to his mouth.

Spider tries to memorize the feeling of your hand cupping his cheek. The warmth of your skin. The soft of your palms. The length of your fingers and the way your body moves, your chest pressed tight against his own. There really was no sweeter feeling, than finally allowing himself to give in to you. Entirely.

But both of you knew that there was not much time in savoring the feeling of this kiss, no time to take it slow. Barely a heartbeat later, you were tasting each other's mouths, hands caressing each other's bodies, trying to find the closeness and touch he’s been craving for months.

Spider broke away from the kiss first, quickly putting his mask back on to inhale some much needed air. The blonde was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his pupils were dilated to the max. But yours were too.

Laying your hand in his, you guide him to sit down next to Lo‘ak, who’s watching with great interest as you settle down on your knees in front of his friend. You hum when your eyes catch the bulge under Spiders loincloth. Moving further, you place ticklish kisses along his jaw, right where his mask sits. Spider tries his best to suppress it, but he can’t help the groan slipping out when you begin to trail down his neck. Then, you drape one arm over his shoulder and climb on top to straddle him. A soft hand finds leverage on his shoulder, while the other moves between your bodies and past the waistband of his loincloth.

It’s like he’s finally snapping out of this dream-like reality, when he spots Lo‘ak move in the corner of his eyes. When Spider turns his head to the side, he finds his friend observing, eyes half lidded and full of lust and a hand palming his own erection over his coverings.

“Come on,” Lo‘ak urges with a smug grin, “She’s all yours.”

All mine.

Spider turns to look back at you, just as you reach down and free his cock. Grabbing his hard length, you give him a few experimental strokes before you line him up with your entrance.

You’re wet, so wet. Partly of your own slickness and partly of Lo‘aks spit from barely a few minutes ago and that thought made Spider shudder. With both hands holding onto his shoulders now, you sink down on his cock slowly— achingly slowly. You bit your lip as you did, brows furrowed in concentration and the sight was enough to make his cock stir.

"Holy shit, she’s tight", Spider moans like the air as been punched out of his lungs, with his head thrown back, when you sit down on him entirely. His breath caught in his throat as his cock was enveloped by the intense warmth of your cunt. Thanks to your slickness, he slid in so gently, so easy.

"I know, right?", Lo‘ak breaths out a laugh, "She’s amazing." He was still sitting next to you both. Leaning back on one hand, he had pulled his loincloth down enough to get his other hand on his hard cock. He was stroking over his shaft, his palm lubed with spit and he couldn’t seem to peel his eyes off of where you and Spider were now connected.

Spiders hands went to grab your hips and hold you there for a long moment, just savoring the feeling of your tight heat surrounding him. Listening to your shallow breathing and small moans as you squirmed on top of him, made his heart pound rapidly in his chest.

"Are you feeling good, baby? You look so hot right now", Lo‘ak directed the question to you, squeezing the tip of his cock just a little harder when you nod. "I‘m good", you hummed, "So good."

It’s when Spiders grip on your hip tightens and you feel him buck his hips up just a little, that you finally push yourself up and then lower yourself down on his cock with a moan. You start off gentle, repeating the same motion and letting him get used to the feeling of his length dragging along your hot walls as you bounce on him.

Soon enough, you’re setting a fast pace, fucking yourself onto his cock with moans spilling from your parted lips that made both of the men groan in unison.

Spiders pupils are blown and he looks at you with so much lust, his chest expands and contracts as he takes deep breaths and he’s so mesmerized by the feeling and sight you provide, that he can’t do more than just look. And you don’t stop the thrusting of your hips, relishing in the sounds your thighs are making as they slap against his.

His eyes trail up and down your body, to your breasts, watching as they bounce with your rhythm. To the way your nipples stiffen when he finally reaches up to touch and knead them, rolling them between his fingers just to hear you whine and gasp. And then back to where his cock disappears in you. Your slick leaks out and runs over his shaft like warm honey, smearing between both of your thighs and that’s when he realizes you don’t bounce on him anymore, you’re trying to grind yourself against him.

"C‘mon bro, give her clit some attention, she likes that", Lo‘ak encourages the thought in Spiders head before it can even form. He’s quick to comply, reaching down to circle the little nub between your folds. It’s rewarded with you, clenching around him hard enough to draw another deep moan out of him. "Yeah just like that, oh shit", Lo‘ak curses as he jerks himself faster, eyes glued on your flushed face.

He continues, tight and fast circles, until you’re slumping forward with both arms around his neck and your chest pressed against his own. "P-Please don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck", you moan into his ear, so sweet and desperate– who was he to deny you?

Hearing your sweet voice beg for him like that was like a switch was turned inside of him. Spider still holds you tight with his hand on your hip, while the other keeps flicking at your sensitive clit. Planting his feet firm on the ground, he begins to thrust up into you. Your mouth was right beside his ear, so he didn’t miss any of your gasps and whines you as he pumped his cock in and out of your squelching cunt. "Oh god, you feel so good, so fucking good taking my cock like that", Spider couldn’t hold back the praise. His chin came to rest on your shoulder so he could see the way your plump ass jiggled with each thrust.

"Why don’t you tell him, baby? Tell him you’ve been dreaming about him the whole time, I’m sure he wants to hear", Lo‘ak spoke through clenched teeth, breathless and seemingly on the verge of his orgasm. The way he was fucking his own fist generated obscene, wet noises that made you want to turn your head to look at him, look at his cock that leaked so much pre-cum and was throbbing painfully just from watching you get your brain fucked out.

"Yeah? You’ve been dreaming about me, pretty girl?", Spider couldn’t help but smile.

"Yes, oh fuck yes– been dreaming about this, Spider, I wanted it s-so bad", you slurred, "Need you both, need you to fuck me please!"

Lo’ak knew you were about the come, just from the way these filthy words spilled out of your mouth without shame. And then an idea formed in his head.

Reluctantly, one of his hands travels over to reach for your kuru, bringing it close to his own. Spiders eyes followed the movement beside him, watching with curiosity what his friend had planned.

"You don’t mind, right bro?", Lo‘ak quirked his brow at him and Spider shook his head.

"No, f-fuck, go ahead."

When Lo’ak connects your braids, it’s always like an electric impulse is sent through your whole body. Your muscles tense and you suck in a sharp breath. Both, you and Lo‘ak, shudder simultaneously at that.

"Keep going, she’s close", Lo‘ak moans with his hand back on his throbbing cock, "So close."

Spider groans deeply as he rocks your hips together, making you take him, again and again. Your skin felt sticky with sweat, bodies still pressed together tightly but he kept his pace up. With your mouth hanging open, you looked absolutely perfect to Lo‘ak. He could feel the tension building in your core and that in return, made him approach his own orgasm. Surprisingly, Spider wasn’t far behind either.

“Shit I‘m coming, sh-should I pull out?”, the blonde managed to force the words out through gritted teeth, his thrusts faltering for just a second in case you would want him to stop.

"Don’t you f-fucking dare", you whine as you force yourself to move on your own again, up and down on his cock, hips moving in an desperate attempt to get to your release, "Cum inside me, please, please Spider don’t stop."

"C‘mon, c‘mon give it to her, bro." Speeding up the strokes of his hands, Lo’aks hips were bucking up to fuck into his fist harder, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more.

Lo‘ak physically felt you clench around Spiders cock, felt you hold the air in your lungs and that in return, robbed him of his own breath. He came right when you did, spilling his cum with a loud moan onto his stomach. And when you came, Spider also couldn’t hold it together any longer. Just a few particularly hard thrusts later and you felt thick spurts of his hot seed filling you up.

After that, it was silent for a while, with just the three of you panting and gasping for air. A breathless laugh coming from Lo‘ak was the first thing that broke the comfortable silence, followed by the gentle chuckle of Spider, who was currently caressing the back of your head.

"That was fucking amazing", the blonde said. A content hum left your lips as you allowed your eyes to fall closed, but then Lo‘ak spoke up with a soft tone in his voice, "Give her to me, bro."

Suddenly, there were two pair of hands on you. You didn’t know which one belonged to whom and before you knew it, your back was pressed against Lo’aks chest and your legs were thrown over his strong arms. You crane your neck to look back at him, to ask what he was planning to do, but he’s quick to capture your lips in a long awaited kiss. You sigh into it, let him deepen the kiss and immediately, his tongue curls around yours.

Spider watches for a while, licking his lips as if he’s trying to remember the taste of your tongue. While you’re both panting into each others mouths, he shuffles over to stand between your spread legs and gently runs his thumb between your slick folds. When he bumps against your oversensitive clit, you break away from the kiss with a gasp. You want to squeeze your legs together when you feel Spiders cum seep out of you, but Lo’ak keeps them apart.

"Keep them open, baby", he chuckles with a final kiss to your cheek, "Show him how good you can be. That’s what you wanted, right?"

"Uh-huh", was the only response you could give him right now, the only thing your brain was still capable of, after that mind shattering orgasm from barely five minutes ago.

You swallow thickly as you watched how Spider gathered some of your arousal and used it to stroke his cock, until it grew hard again. With his free hand, he then reaches over to cup your face affectionately. You lean against his palm and sigh. Spiders thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip, seemingly lost in his thoughts for a moment and you just let him.

"Can I have your mouth next?", he finally mumbles and the thought alone is enough to make your toes curl and warmth spread in your core. "Yes… please", it comes out as a whisper, while you look up at him trough your lashes.

"Oh you‘ll love her mouth, trust me bro. She sucks dick like pro, don’t you baby?" Lo‘ak kisses the shell of your ear and you nod eagerly, a familiar blush decorating your cheeks once again.

Between your lower back and Lo‘aks stomach, you feel his cock twitch, also eager to continue as if he didn’t just came. You wriggle your hips a little, earning a low groan from Lo’ak, before he shifts and then the tip of it prods at your slick entrance. At the same time, Spider moved closer until you were eye level with his crotch. He was still caressing your cheek with his palm and he looked at you with so much adoration while his eyes were also heavy with lust, you couldn’t help but blush even deeper.

“Go on then, pretty girl", Spider coos, "Suck my cock like I know you always wanted to."

#lo‘ak x female reader smut #loak x female reader #loak x reader #loak x female reader smut #loak sully #loak x reader smut #lo‘ak sully #lo‘ak x reader smut #spider #spider x reader #Spider x female reader smut #miles socorro #miles socorro x reader #spider miles socorro #Lo’ak x Spider x reader #avatar smut #Spider smut #spider x reader smut

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snoopyana · 1 month

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lacuna.

“girl you can call my phone at four in the morning.”

you have a boyfriend. he knew that, you knew that, everyone knew that. but he’s your best friend, who also has a fat crush on you, and for his birthday he had one wish. but wait, who’s at the door..

lee ch. / anton. smut. guys im sorry but another cheating type fic, i js can’t be stopped.

anton was seated on his couch, making weak attempts to focus on the game of uno that he was playing with sohee and wonbin — but his eyes just kept wandering back over to you. the way you sat crisscrossed in one of the multiple beanbags he had thrown around his apartment living room. the way you were gripping your phone as if someone was gonna take it from you. eyes glued onto the screen while your fingers rapidly tapped the screen.

probably texting your boyfriend.

earlier, after singing happy birthday and eating a slice or two of cake, you were quick to hop back into whatever conversation you were having. avoiding any conversation with the others to get back to your phone. that was 30 minutes, and you were still going. the sound of your nails hitting the screen filled the room whenever it got silent.

watching the way your face contorted into one of, annoyance? maybe anger. he couldn’t tell, but his thought would be cut short when sohees’ hand smacked the back of his neck. “anton? it’s been your turn for the last three minutes.” sohee had the smallest smile on his face — he had taken note of where all of the younger boys attention landed.

wide eyed, anton used the palm of his hand to sooth the now red skin of his neck. “my bad..” mumbling under his breath, he threw a card out before turning his attention back to you. the expression on your face now clearly one of discomfort — your fingers still hitting the screen without missing a beat.

what could have you so worked up?

the glow of your phone screen caused your eyes to strain, but you couldn’t look away. this was too important, if you stopped texting him for even a moment, he’d manage to be even more aggravating than before — him being sungchan.

before you even left that afternoon, you had told him where you were going. it was antons birthday after all, how could you miss his party? but he wasn’t having it. to be more specific, he wasn’t very fond of your attire. it was rather warm, so to suit the weather you had slid on a pair of shorts and one of his hoodies.

it was the shorts that set him off.

before you could even step outside of your house, he was opening his mouth to complain. something along the lines of, “why are they so short?” and “who are you trying to impress??” not wanting to hear his voice any longer than needed, you walked out. sure, it may have not been the best way to deal with the situation, but you would have done anything just so he would close his mouth.

that’s how you ended up here, arguing with him over text on why you’re out so late. your eyes shot up to the time in the corner of your screen — it’s only 9:30. you were forced out of your thoughts when anton stuffed himself into the beanbag. head resting on your shoulder, the gesture caused you to quickly exit your messages with sungchan. opening up a random app in the process.

“you’ve been sitting by yourself all night and barely even said happy birthday.” practically whining into your shoulder, his eyes shifted from your phone to your face. “ ‘m sorry ton, i had to deal with someone.” bringing a hand up to rake through his hair, you finally realized that everyone else had left.

rolling his eyes, antons’ suspicions were confirmed. you were texting sungchan and he was taking up all your attention on his day. a faint pout on his lips, anton didn’t answer — opting to lean his body further into yours. his silence was enough to tell you how he felt, ignored. but could you blame him?

in an effort to make it up to him, you stuffed your phone into the front pocket of your hoodie. “but, you’ve got my full attention now.” and that’s all he needed to hear before he was dragging you into his room. pulling you into the small bedroom, it wasn’t the first time you’d been in here and it definitely wasn’t the last. standing at the end of his bed, anton picked at the skin around his nails.

why was he so nervous to tell you his wish? a wish that’s been fulfilled a multitude of times.

your shorts were discarded at the foot of his bed, being left in your panties and hoodie. thighs on either side of his own, anton sat up against his headboard. hands roaming under your hoodie — groping at any piece of skin that he could find. while your hands gripped onto the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to yours — deepening the kiss.

this was his wish. he could have been between your legs any day, but today it felt even more special. not just because it was his birthday, but because he knew sungchan was blowing up your phone while he got all you attention. the attention that he craved all day long but was taken from him. the feeling of your phone buzzing on his bed making the male smile against your lips.

pulling away to catch your breath, anton took this as an opportunity to try to rid you of sungchans hoodie — only to be stopped. looking back up at you, desperation in his eyes, anton tilted his head slightly. as if asking ‘why’ without saying a word. instead of giving him an explanation, you tugged at his pants. “i know what you want ton, but i gotta get back soon.” spewing out apology after apology, anton just frowned. his chest tightened with jealousy simply because you were still thinking about someone else that wasn’t him.

that frown quickly fading when the chilled air of his room rushed over his overly sensitive tip. one hand gripping onto your thigh, the other curled up in his sheets, he watched as you simply pushed your panties to the side, sinking down onto him with ease. any hint of jealousy that he once had seemed to poof from existence.

snaking his arms around your waist, anton jerked his hips up. setting a reckless yet weirdly affectionate pace. glancing down at his lap, he expected to see himself disappear in and out of your hole. instead he was meant with that fucking hoodie. covering up everything he wanted to see, reminding him of who you were going to go back to when he was done.

anton, now irritated, put all that negative energy into brutally pounding into you. if he couldn’t see what he was doing, he was definitely going to make sure you both heard it. your nails digging into his shoulders, the sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping together filled any empty space that wasn’t taken up your rather loud moans.

that unmistakable ache in your stomach growing, causing a slight shake in your legs. “gonna make you forget all about him.” his sentence being backed with a groan as he shifted underneath you — unknowingly causing him to find a new angle. the switch making your body spasm. parting your lips with the intention of telling him to slow down, a drawn out whine would make its way out instead.

nipping and sucking on your neck, anton was drowning in the growing need to fuck every thought of sungchan out of your mind. even as your phone rang right next to him. stilling for a moment as you came around him without warning. before he could continue, the sound of his front door opening rang through his apartment.

he locked the door, right?

note- i love ending my fics abruptly. it was supposed to be longer but i’m legit so sick and exhausted. it’s time to use your imagination and imagine what happens next, also my little snoopy dividers are melting my heart. i love snoopy so much

happy anton day lovebugs.

#luvyujun #riize anton #riize #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize smut #anton lee #riize x reader #riize sungchan #riize sohee #riize wonbin #riize lee changyoung #riize chanyoung

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sir-kuroo · 8 months

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.—001 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃 ♡ BLUE LOCK

headcanons - ft. isagi, bachira, kunigami, kurona, yukimiya

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ mentions of 69; cunnilingus; marking; creampie; titsucking; overstim 𖦹 @enchantedforest-network

♡ ISAGI

•••always asks you if you're just fine from time to time; is this alright? am I hurting you? let me know if you're uncomfortable;

•••most of the time in his head on how to please you; knows all of your pleasure points and gets even more excited when you're being vocal about it;

•••making you cum is like scoring a goal for him; so while he's very sweet and considerate at first don't expect it to last very long;

•••once he's inside you and he's feeling the rush, he'll fuck you senseless; your moans and whimpers fuel him even more;

•••probably feels slightly guilty on the inside but with you crying that he feels so good, there's no going back now and he's out here to make you feel even better;

•••he can fuck you in any position or rather you both would end up in different positions any way; he goes slow at first but then he gradually speeds up, fucking you like he has a time limit;

•••the type to chant your name in passion as he huffed and lost himself;

•••loves to spill it all inside you; his cum hitting your womb is like the ball hitting the net for him;

•••always leans down to sweep off stray hair from your face and kisses you; might apologizes if he goes overboard, but gets immense satisfaction at seeing how good he made you feel; aftercare king right here;

♡ BACHIRA

•••sex with him requires all clothes off; he'll worship your body, admiring it not only with his eyes but also with his hands/mouth;

•••expect his tongue to end up between your legs; loves it when he gets you dripping wet and he can suck you like a free flowing honey that juices spill down his chin;

•••he loves when you're riding on top of him; the way you're giving your all as you humped down on his dick makes him wanna rail you good;

•••he'll bounce you rabidly against his cock, letting go of his inhibitions as he loves doing it impactful and fast until you're too spent to remain in control, giving yourself fully in pleasure too and showing your wild side to him like you have never shown any other;

•••won't stop til you're both limping and whining; but loves it whenever you end up laying on his chest so he can cradle you and wrap his around you, assuring himself that you're here to stay;

♡ KUNIGAMI

•••oh, god! he loves it whenever he feels like you're so little compared to him; the way you clutch onto muscular arms and your eyes close whenever he enters you;

•••it's always the slow but heavy strokes for this guy; like he'll take almost all of his length out then slam it back in; fuck...just so you could feel the absence of his cock in your pussy and the difference when he already stuffed it in, stretching you full;

•••he always has his jaw clenched as he fucks you; it's a sexy sight to behold as he's so trained on you and serious yet he has a gentle hand lovingly over your head;

•••his groans and grunts are just so manly hot; it all seemed beastly as his muscles flex while he thrusts in you yet he's so tender by sensually kissing you and praising you from time to time, "yes, that's my good girl. take it in. take it all in";

♡ KURONA

•••sharky's open to try out new things in bed or even in the absence of it; knows your needs without you saying it tho he may initiate sex out of the blue from time to time;

•••teases you by biting the shell of your ear and when he does that you know he's down for something regardless of wherever, whenever you both are;

•••his oral fixation leads him to leave bite marks all over your body especially all the fleshy parts of you; specifically fond of your inner thighs everytime he eats you out; your tits whenever he leaves a big ring of his bite mark around your nipples;

•••tho he loves penetration, he finds it super special when you 69; your mouth passionately wrapped around his dick as he plays with your pussy and ocassionally chomps on your squishy ass cheeks;

•••finds it special whenever you leave a mark on him too; especially whenever you feel so much pleasure from the ministrations of his cock or fingers that your teeth sink on his shoulder;

•••drowns your ears with whispery moans and soft whines; looks irresidtible everytime his face will contort and flush helplessly while cumming;

♡ YUKIMIYA (got carried away here bc he's my bllk hubby T^T)

•••can't emphasize this enough but he can't have sex with just anybody; it has to be with someone he loves; sex for him is a form of showing how much he loves you and vice-versa;

•••a blend of tender, sweet and playful; he's down for whatever you're into and is not shy to let you know if he wants to do some freaky stuff that he wants to try as long as it doesn't involve other people; not the type to get aroused with the idea of sharing you;

•••when he fucks he fucks with his all; loves touring your body with his mouth and hands; fingers lovingly play with your pussy as he has his tongue rolling around your nipple;

•••never underestimate his gentleness; he's also passionatr and it shows in the way he stirs your insides up; like he has so much affection for you that he wants you to feel in the way he jerks his hips, sucks your pussy, plays with your tits; he wants you to feel just as overwhelmed as he is;

•••enjoys giving and receiving at the same time so he gets extra hard whenever you initiate stroking his length;

•••big on praise and he never fails to let you k ow how much he finds your pussy irresistible before he digs in and eats you out;

•••gets off with your praises too; pounds harder whenever you moan how good he's making you feel;

•••loves the feeling of your tits jiggling against his chest as he lowers himself to fuck you deeper; his gaze will remain in yours, remembering how beautiful you look like as you writhe beneath him;

•••always hugs you tight whenever you cum so he can feel how the tremors wash over you;

•••into giving soft commands; right there...princess; yes, nice and slow...nice and slow. there y'go. good...keep it up, just like that...mhmm, you're so amazing;

JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡

⏝︶︶⏝︶ ୨୧ ︶⏝︶︶⏝

#isagi smut #bachira smut #kunigami smut #kurona smut #yukimiya smut #bllk smut #blue lock smut #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #kunigami x reader #kurona x reader #yukimiya x reader

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preeningpisces · 1 month

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Geto NSFW Headcanons

Im gonna try not to be biased because this is my main bitch right here 🖤

Lemme know if you want me to elaborate or write about any of these headcanons

(literally any ask about Geto will make me do somersaults—backflips, even)

18+ content below the cut, mdni, implied chubby f!reader

Pre-Incident

꩜ Geto is interesting because before he snaps and after he snaps feel like two different vibes in regards to sex

꩜ Doting, almost like a service-dom. He likes taking care of you, but he also prefers to have control. Though not so controlling that he can’t ever be submissive

꩜ Major smooth-talker, like Gojo said, he has a silver tongue. Likes a mixture of praise and degradation. The degradation is usually teasing, and doesn’t extend past the usual slut, whore, etc. range…usually

꩜ Sometimes it comes out corny tho lmfao pls roast him when it does

꩜ Good at making you feel sexy. The type that will kiss you all over, giving extra affection to areas you aren’t as fond of. It’s difficult at first, but with time you become more comfortable

꩜ Very sensual, and intimate. He has good self-control, & is very patient so he can draw things out & drive you crazy. Like he can spend all-too-long just toying with your mouth, denying you the kiss you so desperately want. Barely brushing your lips and teeth with his thumb, before pinching your tongue between fingers. Wowee

꩜ Refuses to kiss you after absorbing curses. Even though no one else can taste them, the thought of tasting like that is enough for for him to refuse; he doesn’t want you to go through it too. Also, tasting shit-vomit in your mouth doesn’t exactly get the schlong schlinging, yknow

꩜ I suspect absorbing curses gives him an immediate surge of negative emotions, so he usually needs space. Sometimes he just wants to hold you, or be held, in silence

꩜ Can be surprisingly playful in bed

꩜ Really likes fucking you from below. Smooshing your soft breasts and stomach against him, and feeling your weight on top of him. Holding you still so he can rail you while whispering sappy, dirty shit in your ear. I’m passing out someone help

꩜ I’ve been poisoned by the perv!geto fics on here, and can’t see him as not being a secret pervert. Just slightly. It takes a while for him to reveal that side to you, since he tries to appear refined and respectable

꩜ Definitely the type that likes music in the background; I see him as someone who cares about music a lot in general. You know he likes you if he’s sharing song recs

꩜ Lots of playlists, and even has a few sex playlists with different moods. Usually prefers things that are chill, but has a few harder-hitting songs—this is why he needs the playlists, lol. He doesn’t like when the vibe changes too much

꩜ One time you sneak Cbat onto his playlist & make him laugh so much he loses his boner. At that point did you really win? Hmm?

꩜ Tbh he’s got game & is aware of it. You gotta humble him occasionally or else he becomes insufferable

Post-Incident

꩜ This Geto is a lot more self-centered, aggressive, and sadistic in bed. I wouldn’t say he’s a tyrant tho

꩜ Will legit punish you when you disobey, no funishments here. Big into humiliation

꩜ My heart is telling me shibari, especially the kind that can be hidden beneath clothes. Particular about the color, and will pick ones that flatter your skin tone. Obsessed with the way the ropes pinch and dig into your soft body. He’ll bite and squeeze the parts that spill over the ropes

꩜ One punishment would be walking around secretly tied up, but the style where one of the ropes rubs against your pussy as you walk. It sounds nice at first, but that bitch is gonna chafe for sure

꩜ He’s more selfish than before, yes, but he still maintains a proclivity for doting—we all see how he spoils his daughters! It’s like, he gets his turn first, and when it’s your turn, it's your turn. Multiple orgasm king. He’ll do it until you’re sobbing tho, so pray for your pussy

꩜ Loves making you choke on his cock—gets kind of intense with the bjs. Mfer needs to chill (and buy you some throat lozenges)

꩜ Doggystyle is his favorite without a doubt, he just wants to pin your face to the bed and watch your ass bounce

꩜ A lot of the previous stuff is still applicable to some degree, but I think he has a lot less patience at this point, and is waaaay more into degradation & domination

꩜ He gets legitimately mean sometimes lmfao it’s like you gotta have 2 safewords: one for physical intensity level, and the other for bullying level 😭

꩜ Would he sleep with a non-sorcerer? Honestly, I can’t decide. If he did tho, he would be SO FUCKING MEAN I don’t even want to think about it !!!

꩜ Does he use monkey in bed unironically?? Chat pls advise

#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x chubby reader #jjk smut #chubby reader #divider by benkeibear #god i wrote so much for him #the favoritism is wild #dreams of geto ☁︎#headcanons ☽#geto headcanons #dreams ☽#wet dreams ☽

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pigeonpeach · 2 months

Text

Couldn’t come up with much so heres wholesome ideas of owning a cat with your genshin spouse

Diluc is clearly the favorite. His warmer body is a big plus in the eyes of your kitty. Its amusing to you because they’re the exact opposite, you joke that Diluc acts more like a cat (being reserved and typically grumpy in public) as opposed to your orange tabby with one braincell who will meow for any reason. Diluc is not one to complain, the kitty is a fine companion who’s greetings after a long day of fighting or buisness meetings is welcome while you’re slumbering away in bed waiting for him.

Neuvillette takes the title ‘cat dad’ perhaps more literally. You took in a orphaned little kitten, so young it had to be bottle fed and snuggled with a warm blanket 24/7. Neuvillette in that time became increasingly worried and dotting on the little kitten. Coming back with the best kitten formula and more blankets to swaddle them with. Now that the kitty is older he still seems to fret over them the way he might if it was his child. Your theory is that some primal instinct was activated upon seeing the mewling weak baby, subconsciously making him see it as his literal child. It was around when his heat cycle should’ve happened but the stress of the kitten delayed such. The kitty is also very fond of him. Often going to him to manipulate him for more food or treats. In bed the kitty often sleeps inbetween you too. Sometimes however when the kitty purrs, neuvillette will “purr” as well. According to him its what dragons do to soothe their offspring or mates. So whenever the kitty is frightened like during bath time he just starts purring on his own.

Pantalone’s cat was interesting for you. You loved cats but his was surprisingly well trained. A black fluffy cat who’s eyes were big. Frequently is said kitty a master of stealth, his clothes are its favorite hiding spot. Since pantalones wardrobe is predominately black the kitty blends in. Pantalone just whistles and the Kitty immediately jumps out and runs to him, apparently he’s trained it for such using treats. The kitty is very food motivated and will infact try to eat your or his food if given the chance. But its hard to resist such big beady eyes!

Jean isn’t too used to cats. She expected the kitty you brought home to be the quiet and aloof type but it turns out to be the most clingy and affectionate creature known to man. If it is not-being swaddled or held it lets out the most pathetic of meows that shatter her heart.

I’m sleepy now so gn

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #diluc x you #domestic fluff #jean gunnhildr x reader #diluc x y/n #neuvillette x reader #pantalone x reader #lazy as shit

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merakiui · 1 year

Text

Mother

yandere!kabukimono x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, pregnancy, implied codependency, brief mentions of murder/death, brief mention of childbirth note - recently i was inspired to write a kabukimono story, so i hope you can enjoy it!

i. the miracle of life.

There is a little human growing within you.

Kabukimono has never heard of such a phenomenon, but according to you it’s a normal facet of life for all creatures. He, who has only ever interacted with men, young and old, and the occasional grandmother, has never known the word pregnancy. It’s a complicated concept he struggles to parse at first—like that first sip of sake or the stickiness of a sweet. It’s something that leaves you pleasantly rounded like a ripe lavender melon, softens the skin on your bones, and allows you to grow into the kimono that was once two sizes too large. It’s something you speak of with overwhelming warmth, a fondness so enticing it’s almost tangible. It’s something the men at the furnace discuss with great pride and merriment, swapping stories of their beautiful, beloved wives and the tiny miracles that dwell within the womb, adoration painted upon weathered countenances.

Miracles. Kabukimono has heard the word once or twice. Miracles, as he has come to learn, are wonderful things wrapped in silks. Newborns swathed in softness. Frail humans who manage to overcome illnesses that are said to snuff both body and soul with the excruciating passage of time. Sometimes a miracle is simple and not nearly as exciting as tales of heroes and villains or a mortal fight for recovery. Sometimes a miracle is waking up to begin another day. Sometimes it's torrential rain battering thirsty farmlands. Sometimes it’s a delicious meal prepared by a loving hand.

If Kabukimono’s existence were to be defined as a miracle, it would be both a grandiose, gilded lie and bittersweet flattery all in one pretty package. Miracles are wanted, loved, and accepted. Disasters, curses, failures—however you wish to name the wandering puppet—are unwanted, despised, and abandoned. Kabukimono may not know every truth of this vast world, but this is one he’s understood from the moment he awoke in a lonesome pavilion.

There is a little miracle growing within you.

“Although they’re not very little now,” you remark, taking his cold, bloodless hands in your warm, blood-filled ones.

You guide them to your belly, secured snugly with a hara-obi, and he averts his gaze, if only to be respectful of the bare flesh you’ve put on display. The men at the furnace note he often stares at you; they’ve said it’s unbecoming of a young man to fix licentious eyes upon a maiden. Once, they joked of repentance for invasive gazes: A man who strays too far from his honor when a lady is involved shall gouge his eyes out and present them to her in hopes of earning forgiveness. Kabukimono, unable to comprehend the sarcasm or the laughter, procured a shard of shattered glass, raised it to his eye, and was promptly stopped by a very concerned Niwa.

“Now listen here,” he had said, addressing the group of chuckling men, “it’s not very honorable to trick others.”

Kabukimono knows that there are two types of tricks: the painful kind and the painless kind. Betrayal falls under the painful category. Swapping his bitter tea for sake falls under the painless category (though he was not spared of the dizzying, disorienting effects or the subsequent hangover). Had he sliced his eyes from his skull, he wonders if he would have felt the sting, the agony, the fluid filling empty eye sockets—if such fluid even exists within his unique anatomy. Kabukimono is grateful for Niwa, for he often rescues him from painless tricks that may turn painful should he follow through with blind trust.

And, had he truly lost his eyes that day, he never would have had the pleasure of looking at you like he does now.

“Not very little…” he parrots, and he can practically feel the heartbeat from your miracle the moment his hands rest upon your belly. It shimmers in the candlelight, but that’s only because you’ve applied herbal oil meant to soothe weary muscles and prevent stretch marks. “How big will it become?”

You hum, idly trace patterns onto the tops of his hands, and say, “It’s difficult to approximate. Imagine…a very big lavender melon.”

Kabukimono can do that. He peers past you at the purple pile on the table, spoils from his last walk. He always returns with too many, but then pregnancy leaves you with a voracious appetite and sometimes you can eat more than one melon in one sitting. It’s very admirable, so he brings more each week and you never stop him.

“That’s big,” he mumbles, awestruck, and he slides a hand across the width of your stomach. “How does it fit?”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Oh.” He leans closer, suspecting he feels movement from within, and he’s proven correct when something shifts under his palms. His eyes, blown so very, impossibly wide, flick up to yours. “It… It moved!”

“Of course,” you say, smiling, and your eyes are the prettiest gemstones in the moonlight. He could stare at them forever. “They kick and squirm often. This, too, is the sweetest miracle.”

“How so?”

“A restless baby means they are alive and well within.” You look like a statue of the gentlest goddess when you cradle your stomach. “It’s all I could ever hope for.”

Curiously, Kabukimono withdraws his hands and lifts the hem of his silks to view his own flat, porcelain stomach. He presses a palm against synthetic skin. It’s cold, but there is life crackling beneath his hand, just barely contained within the frame his mother personally sculpted.

Mother. It’s another word he knows well, but he cannot seem to apply it to anyone other than his creator. But, as he has come to learn, a mother is meant to provide and protect. His mother is currently absent, so she cannot do those things.

“You must have something you want.”

Kabukimono lowers the fabric, cinches it tight, and peers at you. “Something I want?”

“Like a miracle of your own.”

“I am unable to conceive a miracle.”

You stare at him for a moment before laughing a quiet, melodious laugh. “It doesn’t have to be a child. It can be anything you want.”

His hands rise to his chest and he intends to admit his true wish—a heart and a place amongst humans—but instead he says, “I would like a mother for myself.”

“Do you not have a mother, Kabukimono?”

“I do… I did.” He shakes his head, finding that the admittance is too troublesome on his tongue. “I’m…unsure.”

You nod, your features softening with understanding. “Perhaps something else then?” Kabukimono reaches out to touch your belly, hesitates, and draws away, conflicted. You offer an encouraging smile. “You can touch. I don’t mind, and I don’t think the baby minds either.”

And so he does.

“I want to see your miracle when it’s brought into the world,” he whispers, speaking more to your baby than to you. “And I would like to know the miracle of life.”

As if in response, your little miracle kicks.

ii. the miracle of death.

Your little miracle almost fell from the sky that envelops it.

On the way to the furnace, a man bumped into you and you were sent stumbling on uneven ground. Kabukimono does not want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been a few steps behind—if he hadn’t rushed to your aid with a quickness rivaling lightning. He’d caught you in his arms and, noting the raw panic sullying such a friendly face, could only exhale a slow, relieved sigh.

When you fell, you were holding your belly, shielding it as if it was worth more than your own life. When you fell, the man who had been the catalyst for this short-lived horror did not jump in to catch you. When you fell, you were a sliver away from tragedy.

Kabukimono tastes red-hot anger in his throat, but he cannot understand where it’s coming from or why it consumes him entirely. But he must get it out of his system. It’s unpleasant and wrong and sordid. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.

And so, later that same day, he repays terror tenfold and leaves the man clinging to the strand he calls life.

“I won’t allow you to take my miracle away.” It’s spoken like a fact, shot through with syllables of deadly certainty. The sharpened tip of his blade prods at the man’s abdomen, a warning, a threat, and a promise all at once. For nearly taking a life, you shall pay for it with your own.

“Your mother?” the man had sputtered, terrified and confused, sticky with sweat and tears.

Kabukimono does not let the man speak again, for the sword sinks into his stomach, and unease morphs into painful torment. To be certain the man won’t survive, Kabukimono twists the sword, sullies his hands in the process, and yanks it free with startling strength. Blood speckles a pristine canvas. It’s warm and wet.

He did not say mother. He did not. You’re a miracle. You are not his mother. You will be a mother to your miracle, not him because he isn’t a miracle.

He did not say mother.

Kabukimono finds himself sitting across from you now. There is a ghastly tear in crimson-spattered silks. You suspect the truth in the liquid staining his attire. Surely you must. But you keep your lips pursed and thread the needle through with expert fingers, humming as you work. Kabukimono sits primly, watching you with bright, indigo hues. You hum a melody he has never heard before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m uninjured.”

“I’m glad.” You snip the excess string away and tuck the needle into your sewing kit. “It’s fixed. I’m sorry if it looks a little awkward. I’m not the best at—”

“It’s perfect,” he insists, admiring the stitching as if it’s the most valuable thing in all of Teyvat. Irreplaceable, for no one could replicate your exact pattern, and that’s what makes it so special.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He’s quiet for all of two minutes before the silence shatters his resolve. “Your miracle…” He frowns, suddenly ashamed. “He almost hurt your miracle…”

“But he didn’t, and I have you to thank for that.” You hold your hands out, palms up, and add, “Your hands aren’t meant to break and destroy others. You were given these precious palms to embrace others, to protect others, to respect others.”

Slowly, he places his hands in yours. His seem to weigh heavy like a grimy sin, yet somehow all it takes is a single touch from you and all of his filth is cleansed. His fingers curl around yours, entwining like vines.

“I will embrace others. I will protect others. I will respect others.”

You squeeze his hands reassuringly. “When you’re upset, rather than acting rashly, take a step back and sit with your feelings. If the unpleasant thing persists, come to me and we can discuss. But please don’t take your frustrations out on others. You weren’t made to hurt others.”

“Then if I was not made for destruction, what else could be the purpose for my creation?”

To that, you’re unable to produce a satisfactory reply. Instead, you pull one of your hands free, lick your thumb, lean towards him, and scrub the blood from his cheeks. He blinks at you, unaccustomed to such consideration. The men at the furnace often tease him for trailing after you like a lost, little duckling, seeking your approval and affection. Tonight, since the men are nowhere in sight, he thinks he can allow himself to be greedy without any admonishments from Niwa or Katsuragi. You sure do like that (Name), huh? the latter often muses, exchanging wary, furtive glances with Niwa, as if both are preparing to weather a calamity.

Kabukimono always speaks the truth unless he must take care to conceal it. So when he tells them, I like her more than I like the world that surrounds me, he means it. Because without you there is no world.

“Thank you, Mother,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret, a title not meant to be uttered by him.

Oh, he said it again. He said mother.

iii. the miracle of motherhood.

Kabukimono kneels at your bedside like an angel of death dressed in the purity of white. He watches you throughout the hour, listening to your cries, your groans, your hisses, while a grandmother assists below, whispering soothing consolations that somehow reach Kabukimono’s ears despite the shrill noises that fill the room. Kabukimono has learned she’s a granny who delivers life, so he puts his faith in her to take good care of you and your miracle.

The process is much longer than he anticipated. Though you’re covered in sweat and tears, your chest heaving, your hand searching for him in the midst of the commotion, you are the most beautiful miracle he has ever known. He closes his hand around yours and you squeeze so hard you might just tear his wrist from the joint. But it doesn’t hurt him, and he spends the afternoon at your side, watching the toll the miracle takes on your body.

He never blinks, burning the scene into his retinas.

Some time later, you are holding your miracle in your arms, tears tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks. Kabukimono watches mother and child with wide, adoring eyes. After all this time, your miracle is finally here! You’re holding such a fragile human and there is love trickling from your lash line. Kabukimono wants to cry with you, but the tears won’t come.

So instead he smiles. You seize his wrist and drag him down to where you rest, and the smile widens.

“Your miracle is leaking,” he observes, and you snort in amusement.

“Crying,” you correct, bumping your forehead with his. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”

Kabukimono is inclined to agree, but your eyes are not on him. For the first time in the many months he’s been acquainted with you, he is not all you see. Somehow that saddens him, carves a hole into him, but he can’t mourn. He shouldn’t. He’s come to learn that the miracle of childbirth is an occasion worthy of celebration. He should be happy for you—and he is—but there is a pang in his chest. Something is not fitting where it should. Something is amiss.

“I think I’ll name her…Aika.”

“Is it common to give miracles names?”

“Of course. Everyone has a name, even you. We’re all given one the moment we’re born.”

Even me…

Aika continues to cry and you rock her to and fro in your arms, shushing her with a song. She settles within minutes, lulled to sleep, and you follow shortly after. He refuses to leave your bedside, preferring to watch over you like a dutiful guard.

Kabukimono weighs his two warring wants: a name of his own, generously given by his mother, and you. In this very moment, you are attainable. A name, however, is not. But perhaps he can survive without one if it means you’ll accompany him through nameless wandering.

He’s only ever whole when he’s with you.

iv. the miracle of rebirth.

The Balladeer stands at an all-too-familiar doorstep. He has since swapped his pure linens for a shroud of darkness, and he’s taken on a new alias (he refuses to call it a name, for only you can grant him one). You haven’t changed in the many years that have since followed, for you are not fully human like him. Yet you veil yourself in the wonders of humanity, always empathetic in nature, tainted with weak emotions. You will never be human, but then neither will he and there is catharsis in similarity. The both of you stand on equal ground in that regard, or so you might have thought.

He is better because he feels nothing, or so he believes. Perhaps, in the center of the labyrinth that is his mind, he recognizes his flaws and the fact that he is worse because you can accept the many aspects of humanity.

Shrugging these irritations away, he composes himself, squares his shoulders, and knocks thrice. He could forego etiquette altogether, kick your door down, and force himself inside for the sake of a cruel surprise, but he refrains from doing so. He suspects your newest miracle might tumble from your sky if he shocks you and then you will never know the sweet cycle of motherhood again.

You know better than to ignore Death when he comes knocking. The door opens wide; there’s no need to crack it and peek through the thin sliver when you’re already aware of the person who awaits you on the other side.

As he has observed over the course of many months, you do have another miracle, hidden under the softness of a floral-patterned kimono. He smiles at you, sharp and wicked under a blanket of stars, and spreads his arms for a hug.

“Mother,” he says in a sarcastic singsong, knowing it unnerves you terribly when it spills like sin from his lips. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Like an old habit, you welcome him in. Beyond your doorstep, the corpse of your most recent lover lies slumped and bloodied, decapitated and disemboweled, dragged so far there’s a vermilion trail marking the path. Sometimes you think these humans are not killed by The Balladeer but rather by the sheer ferocity of the hatred and anger he harbors. He’s always diligent with each of your lovers, swooping in the moment he catches their scents, like a predatory cat finely tuned for slaughter.

He palms at your stomach, uncharacteristically gentle. “Aren’t you just full of miracles, Mother?”

There is a little human growing within you, and The Balladeer has made it his duty to bear witness to the birth of each one of your miracles.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere kabukimono #yandere kabukimono x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader

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