#Between Rage and Serenity
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NOOO BECAUSE I WAS JUST WATCHING THIS MOVIE AND I ASSUMED THATS WHY CHARLES WAS SCREAMING. LIKE THAT COULDNT HAVE NOT HURT
i also sort of assumed that he could feel what the people he's linked with felt by the scene where he cries with erik (the satellite ifykyk)
Omg! I completely missed this the first time I watched X-Men First Class!
Are we to assume Charles feels the coin kill Shaw?
I'd just through Charles was pleading with Erik not to kill again, but damn, that adds a whole new horrifying layer to this!
He needs to stay connected to Shaw because otherwise Shaw will immediately kill Erik, and Charles can't live with that. So he pleads with Erik, even though he knows he can't hear him.
And I'd misread this as it getting harder for Charles to keep Shaw still when he was fighting for his life, but nooooo... he's psyching himself up to endure what's coming.
But nothing can prepare him for what it feels like to have a coin slice through the mind he is linked with.
Damn that's dark! I mean what the hell must that feel like. And he has to keep holding on to Shaw until he's dead - he can't let go.
And he had to, through Shaw's eyes, watch his friend do it to him.
Did Erik know what it would feel like for Charles? Or was he just so consumed by the moment and revenge.
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"There's so much more to you than you know. Not just pain and anger. There's good too, I felt it"
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#sigh#san#choi san#ateez#ateez san#maxsixgif#i'm between serenity and rage with him#mostly rage#obviously#always rage#guerrilla era San is my tippy toppest type of San#i'm so sad i missed so much of it
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@fuckyeahisawthat
TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET as PAUL ATREIDES in DUNE (2021) ZENDAYA as CHANI in DUNE: PART TWO (2024)
#dune#dune part 2#aaaaah thank you for this gifset!!!#love the contrast between the two last gifs especially. Paul's controlled opening of the visor. his trance-like serene expression.#the golden shine to his armor#vs chani's rage. her heavy breathing. dust covered dark armor. oh yeah
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YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.
The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.
The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.
However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper.
Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.
Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.
Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.
The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan.
Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course.
Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche.
But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you.
Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.
It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you.
Even a blind man could see the truth of it.
Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed.
And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now.
Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.
Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.
Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you.
A life of ease.
That said, it would never be too easy.
Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely.
Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.
Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too.
As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.
Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone—only an urn in hand. Numbed to the world, he tightly gripped the sleek black urn that mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.
And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.
But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.
Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji?
Certainly not Sukuna.
Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.
Toji recalls your second encounter with sharpened clarity.
⟡
It had taken Toji only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.
Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.
Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.
Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness.
Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that.
Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.
Not anymore.
Not since her at least.
But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you.
A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.
Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.
A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.
Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.
Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping.
The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna.
Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.
Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence.
His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing.
Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.
The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.
However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene.
Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.
Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well.
Damn.
Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer.
He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind.
Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.
The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.
You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you?
Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?
Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.
True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items.
You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you.
Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.
The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better.
You were truly perfect, well nearly so.
After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type.
How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.
You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon.
Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.
Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.
Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.
The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.
“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”
Heh, took ya long enough to notice.
“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”
A flagrant lie.
Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him.
He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision.
You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.
And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.
“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—”
“—Toji, ma.”
A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.
“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”
Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi.
He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi.
No bra too?
Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.
But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears.
For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.
The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.
It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid.
Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up.
However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.
More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.
“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”
Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction.
Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.
This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life.
He couldn’t be wrong about you.
You were perfect.
Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.
“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.”
You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.
“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”
Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.
“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”
You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.
Now you were… teasing him?
Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.
Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.
“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”
You gave Toji another playful smile.
“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”
Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.
“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”
Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him.
You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.
“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”
“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”
“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”
“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.
Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much.
Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest.
Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.
Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.
Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.
“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.”
Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.
“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”
You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture.
Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought.
Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.
But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.
That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.
Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.
“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”
“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”
“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”
Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock.
Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.
“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”
Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.
“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”
Toji relished the win as your smile returned.
“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”
With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.
Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.
Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind.
Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.
However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—
“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”
–all to himself.
Tch, a fuckin’ friend?
Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.
Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.
Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days.
Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that.
Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.
The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.
Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that.
He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours.
How well have you gotten to know each other?
And in what ways?
The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.
Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him.
And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.
“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”
So that woman did intend to leave.
Good.
The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared.
Toji couldn’t have anything nor anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were associated with.
“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”
Toji’s teeth clenched.
They dared to make phone contact even?
And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?
What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?
Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.
“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”
Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.
Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking.
It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.
“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”
Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.
“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”
“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”
This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.
Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours.
Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.
“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”
Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though.
“—Toji, ma.”
When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.
You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.
Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them back up all over himself.
Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.
Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you.
As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.
Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’.
The fuck happened?!
Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you.
“Oy, mamas!”
You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully.
You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.
“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”
Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.
“Thank you?!”
God, you were beautiful—even pissed off.
Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation.
“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”
Shit.
You were actually pissed.
Ah fuck.
Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.
“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”
Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.
“—then what?! Say something!”
Toji had to think fast.
He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji really just wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you.
Nonetheless, Toji only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation.
Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him.
Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.
But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.
In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.
“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.
He had to be sure to sell it.
“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.”
Toji shifted his stance, adjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.
“So, you told him we were…?”
You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil' yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.
Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?
Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.
“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”
Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.
“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”
You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him.
He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of.
“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.”
Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
Well shit, bullet dodged.
“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”
Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.
“—Wait ma!”
And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.
“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”
Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back.
Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily.
The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.
He knew you knew that too.
You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.
And you did.
“Okay, why not...”
Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice.
The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness.
Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat.
Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.
The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted.
However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.
Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips.
Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock.
Fuck. Get it together.
But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him.
The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes.
Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.
And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit.
Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absent minded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing.
He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.
Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers.
And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.
You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was.
Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car or apartment.
Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English.
Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.
If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win.
But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.
Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.
Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.
It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.
It was…cute.
Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute?
You were cute though, especially with the kids.
That he didn’t mind admitting.
Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.
Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.
With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.
Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.
Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted.
“—and just what the fuck is this?”
Motherfucker.
Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone.
But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached.
Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.
Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here.
Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than thurough intel source.
According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji.
Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.
Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza.
Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.
Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna.
Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.
He noticed you running over the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.
Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?
Toji had.
“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”
You could never be a bother to Toji.
Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him?
After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?
Were—were you falling for him, already?
The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival.
You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?
Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.
Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.
Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.
As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.
“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”
Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable:
Sukuna owned you.
So that's how it is, eh?
Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.
Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys. Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery,
Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right.
But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself.
Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though.
“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?”
Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.
Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat.
“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”
Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling.
Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.
Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.
Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed.
Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence for each one of them.
Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway.
As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times.
“Rooster, eh—”
Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.
Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings. More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.
Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.
“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?”
Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.
But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him.
It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.
Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.
All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.
With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.
“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”
Toji turns to Sukuna.
“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”
Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.
Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.
Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.
Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.
Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.
Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.
Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.
Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji.
Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll.
Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.
Sukuna was still making you cum.
And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.
Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard.
Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.
Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt.
His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.
But—Fuck.
Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.
He was a killer after all.
Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock.
Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip.
Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering.
His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.
The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.
Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against.
With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.
His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.
Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.
Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure.
If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock.
Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts.
Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt.
Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand.
He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was.
Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.
Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake.
Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.
Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand.
With a curled lip and narrowed eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye.
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.
Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.
Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.
Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.
Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you.
Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.
Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization.
A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.
Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.
The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.
Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord.
But what other choice did he have?
He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.
And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.
That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.
You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now.
You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.
Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends.
Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more.
Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again.
⟡
The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.
His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.
This is why Toji likes working alone.
Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient.
Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to.
But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best.
Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.
By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed.
Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.
His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.
But that could wait.
For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.
©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧��𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!
#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкѕ#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкє∂тнαт#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fic#jjk toji#ryomen sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#jjk x black reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x black reader#toji x black reader#toji x fem reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x black!reader
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DOCTORS ACROSS THE HALL
Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader
Synopsis: Sleep-deprived and traumatized, Spencer Reid attempts to pin the blame on his innocent new neighbor (he can't). Word Count: 2k+ Warning: meet cute-ish(?) fluff(?) i'm not sure anymore, lol. light mentions of death and trauma. a few curses. not proofread !!!! A/N: inspired by S2 x E14 & 15, we all know what i mean hehe
Spencer Reid's eyes are dry.
Each blink is a terrifying journey. Afraid that he'll go back in the past—in that hut—in between the millisecond of closing his eyes.
He's seeing nothing but blurry darkness, and yet he can still feel Tobias Hankel's shaky palms across the skin of his arm.
"It helps."
"Trust me."
The same four words ring in Spencer's ears, encouraging pain—paranoia.
"It helps."
"Trust me."
With every breath Spencer takes, they hitch in the middle of his throat. Forever stuck and dies there with no trace of hope for the next generation of traveling air.
Hope that he'll be able to breathe without tugging aches all over his chest is long gone.
No man would ever be the same had they been in the situation he went through. He can't help but feel weak. And it's eating Spencer alive to the point of deliberate insomnia.
He doesn't remember the last time he'd ever slept like a normal person.
"It helps."
Knock, knock.
"Trust me."
Knock, knock, knock.
Spencer opens his eyes. He's not sure when slumber took over his mind or if he even participated in sleep at all. Chances are he was too dissociated from reality that he's left his body frozen for a while. Nonetheless, in the little time he spent in serene blankness, only one emotion brews in him.
Anger.
Who in their right minds would go out knocking at—Spencer glances at the clock on his nightstand—2 AM?
Knock, knock, KNOCK—
It stops.
A creak echoes in the hall as muffled voices scratch Spencer's ears. He can't make out the words, only the wave of the softest and gentlest whispers he's ever heard.
On a different day, he may have let it go. Hell, a different him would have let it go.
The Spencer from one week ago would have let it go.
The Spencer who never felt so nauseous at the sight of his own blood along the canvas of his temple. The Spencer with an awkward grin without the baggage of Tobias Hankel's torture over his shoulders.
The Spencer he used to be.
But despite everyone's loving support. Despite the bragging rights he gained for surviving a serial killer. No one can loosen the throttling chokehold of trauma around his neck. Not even him.
Spencer catches himself clenching his fists too tight. Crescent indentations sting on his palm—nostalgic and unsettling. He only grits his jaw at the thought. And comes in the invigorating vibrations all over his chest.
There it is again.
The useless anger.
A loaded gun with no target.
The man is dead. Tobias Hankel is dead.
Spencer wonders about the use of his boiling anger when the person he loathes is already rotting in his grave.
Without any other outlet to unleash the colossal mass of suppressed rage brewing inside of him, Spencer makes good use of one of the most common defense mechanisms: displacement.
Maybe screaming at someone will deflate the tightness across his chest and clear his mind a bit in the form of self-loathing after he realizes the grave immaturity of his plan.
He lifts his body off his mattress, swinging his legs on the side of his bed as he methodically rubs his eyes against the lamp's brightness. Strands of his hair go array around the vertical circumference of his head like an electric halo.
A huff pulses off his lips. He swallows a lump of thick air as he weighs his next moves.
Part of Spencer died in that cemetery. What difference does it make if he screams at the world? If he screams at—
His brows furrow, eyes narrow, and ears perk.
It's different this time.
Irritating knocks. Opening door. Muffled whispering. Closing door. Then quiet for an hour.
That has been a constant for the past five days. A constant routine that he felt indifferent about but somehow grew annoyed by.
But it's different this time.
The door across the hall didn't close.
And it's been five minutes.
Before Spencer knows it, his hand turns the knob and swings the door open.
Two women across from him. They are in the middle of what seems to be a tight hug before one bids her goodbye and lightly runs down the stairs.
Spencer watches as the other disappears down the lower level. Anger morphs into confusion.
"Did we bother you?"
He jolts back, snapping his gaze to the woman across. "What?"
You smile apologetically, "I'm sorry about the noise—"
"Dr. Spencer Reid," He spits. Spencer's forehead creases. He wonders what prompted his mouth to openly provide his full name to a stranger, specifically when the information was not asked for.
"Oh," You blink, lightly jumping on your toes. An unseen glint sparks in your eyes. You introduce yourself as a response, a lot less threatening than he did but equally awkward. You smile again. Sweetly, this time. Like you're looking at a puppy.
Spencer's brows bounce over his forehead as the hand over his doorknob loosens. "You're a doctor?" He inquires.
You nod, "Mhm, what are the odds, right?" You chuckle. The sound echoes around the quiet hall.
"11.76%."
"What?"
"The odds—" Spencer scratches the back of his neck, "—it's 11.76%. There are fourteen tenants in this building, including you. We both found out we're doctors, and I know none of our neighbors are. Most of the neighbors are living alone besides the old couple on the first floor, but I know none of them are doctors. That's two in fifteen people. So 11.76%. But now I realize you weren't being literal about it..." Heat rushes against the skin of his face.
Silence hovers between the two of you. He feels more awake than he was minutes ago for an entirely different reason—embarrassment. Spencer wishes that some sort of earthquake would open up the floor and swallow him.
"Interesting," You finally speak, changing the leg where you placed your weight. "I tried calculating it myself and got the same result. You were right."
His mouth falls agape. A surge of warmth strikes his chest. "You were calculating?" Spencer squints, rubbing an eye out of habit due to his current predicament and baffled by your antic all the same.
You nod again, "Just cause you're my neighbor doesn't mean I'll just take your word for it, you know. But I have to admit, it was cool that you figured that out in a second. You have my respect." You flash a playful smile, hugging your chest at the sudden draft.
"Ahh," Spencer steps back into his apartment. The tinge of giddiness is quickly replaced by sleep deprivation and anxiety. A hand throws itself into the cavity of his eye socket, pushing it close to remove the pain that's settling in.
Flashes of bright light blind him in the dark shade of his eyelids. Frustration swiftly creeps over his shoulders. Like he's drowning above water, tied down, and has no air to gasp for. Panic begins to paralyze him. All seems lost, and darkness slowly—
"Would you like some tea?"
Spencer blinks, lifting his gaze back at you as your soft smile slowly adjusts his sight.
"I have a new brand of tea I've been dying to open. Would you like some?" You repeat, tilting your head a bit as you await a response. When you don't get one, you add, "I promise I don't bite." And your heart flutters at the little twitch at the ends of his lips.
He concludes you're roughly two weeks fresh from moving in. Here you are, inviting a stranger in the middle of the night to enjoy tea inside your home.
Seems reckless.
Idiotic.
But Spencer doesn't say no.
He walks towards you like he's leaving a world to explore another. Anxiety slowly dissipates with each step he takes. A contrast of what he feels each second that passes while he lies awake.
You step aside to give him way. "Grab a seat—" you gesture towards the kitchen -island-slash-dining-table, "—The girl you saw usually stays longer, so I already heat some water. Is chamomile okay?" You talk as you maneuver around your small kitchen.
Spencer finds a seat closest to the door. For all he knows, you're the serial killer on your end of the skeptical assumptions in his head.
"Nice apartment," He says out of the obligatory guest etiquette. Spencer takes in every bit of your reflection in your home.
It's inviting. Warm and cozy. The hint of oat and lavender whiffs past his nose. Your place is adorned with small, warm lights, brightening each corner with sunset tones.
Your chuckle brings his attention back to you. "Don't be shy, Dr. Reid," You glance at him over your shoulder. "It's messy. You can say it."
"If a couple of books on your table is messy to you, you should see my side of the building."
Spencer straightens up as confusion spreads over his face.
How do you do that?
Make him feel comfortable with words and a gentle voice. Everyone on his team has been doing the same exact thing, but somehow, you get something out of him without further prompting.
The image of your coffee table pops in his head. Cultural Psychology. Learning Psychotherapy. Trauma and Dreams. And a few more books that clocks his interest in you further down the rabbit hole.
"You're a psychologist," He announces into the air.
"Psychiatrist, actually," You place a mug in front of Spencer, finding a seat across from him. "But what gave it away? The tea or the messy apartment?" You ask into your mug that says 'you're purrfect' in pink lowercase and has a cat’s paw under the lettering. A playful smile is curving your lips.
Spencer accepts the blue mug, brows rising at the police box outlined image over the blue stain. He wouldn’t have expected you as a fan of Doctor Who, but who’s he to judge? A part of him wants to discuss common interests, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to change the subject.
"T-the books." He says hesitantly, uncertain whether the art of observation has marked him a creep right at that moment.
You hum, "Thought I would've been more mysterious than that." You chuckle, pulling a leg against your chest. "And you?" You inquire back.
"I have three PhDs," Spencer shares shyly, breaking eye contact masked as drinking your quite tasteful tea. He notes to ask the brand you're so enthusiastic about later on.
"Three?" Your eyes glisten under the warm light.
He nods.
"Let me guess, 190."
"190?"
"Your IQ," You lean back against the table, "My guess is you graduated young. Went to high school, college, and graduate school as a puppy." You add, amping with adoration over the new information.
"A puppy is a strong word, but yes," Spencer blushes now, hoping the small lighting leans in his favor to hide the red tint over every bit of his skin. “And just 187, not that big of a deal.”
"Just 187? You're just being humble, right?" You giggle, "I bet some prestigious agency hired you at a young age, and you're called the genius kid." You jest, genuinely interested in him more than ever.
More like the boy genius. But can’t possibly expose himself more than you already did out of sheer lucky guesses. Spencer avoids meeting your eyes like it's the plague. "You awfully guess a lot..."
You gasp, placing your mug on the table, "Shut up! I was close, was I? Oh my gosh!" You're laughing now, utterly comfortable to show quirks that people you just met shouldn't see yet. "I'm good at this. I think I'll be okay later, then." You say to yourself, nodding in satisfaction.
"For what?" Spencer chimes, troubles slipping away to the back of his mind and the sound of your hush laughter lulling him. It might be the tea or the possibility that you'd drugged him, but his body felt light for the first time in weeks. He doesn't have any complaints.
"I moved here for a job," You start attentively, making sure that you don't share too much. "But I have people. They'll search for me in case you turn out to be a serial killer."
His brows jump, "How do I know you're not the serial killer? Women can be one, too. And statistically, women who are serial killers are attractive."
"Are you saying I'm attractive, Dr. Reid?"
"I—" Spencer freezes, heat flowing to his ears. "I-I was making a point—" He cuts himself off. He wonders when the earthquake he's wished for earlier is coming to save him from embarrassment.
You stay silent, reveling in his stuttering voice.
"Is that coffee? I thought you made tea." He changes the subject—poorly.
You don't mind it one bit, indulging at the sight of his pinkish ears covered by his unruly hair. "I invited you for tea. I didn't say I'll drink one with you." You take a sip of the caffeine, rubbing the idea on his face.
Spencer responds with a subtle roll of his eyes that makes you chuckle more than intended. "Why coffee at three in the morning?" He asks gently, not wanting to step over any boundaries.
"I'm supposed to start my job later. I heard my patients need a lot of assistance, so I need to study and make sure I give them the right help."
"That sounds noble," He yawns, the first of many.
Spencer never thought your smile could get any sweeter, "I haven't officially met them yet. So, I really wish it goes well."
It might be the chamomile tea with a hint of honey finally working in his veins, but Spencer thinks you're beaming like an angel descending from the skies.
He yawns, and you giggle once more, "I think you should go to sleep, Dr. Reid."
“Yeah, yeah, I should,” Spencer’s eyebrows collide at the sadness in his chest. His body feels comfortable in his seat. Getting out of it feels like torture.
You both stand from your seats, walking him towards the door.
Spencer turns around before he closes his, a sleepy smile on his face. "Thanks for the tea," He yawns, a hand covering his mouth.
“You’re— hold on, give me one second,” You turn around and back inside your apartment. He can’t see you but can hear your light footsteps on the floorboards as you run to your coffee table and back inside the frame of your front door.
Spencer patiently waits as you walk to his end of the hall, take his hand out, and hand him a heart lollipop.
“Take this. They help with the bad craving,” You advertise as you walk backward. Before he completely shuts the door, you call for him, "Oh, and Dr. Reid."
Spencer swings the door open back wider, "Yes?"
"I think you're attractive too."
reid masterlist | masterlist
#ker's fics#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#ssa spencer reid#x psychiatrist reader#spencerreid
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In Your Hands [Loki x Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: That irritating, smug, asshole Loki has taken your final fuck to give. Or so you think... Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Smut. Avenger! Loki x female reader. Mild BDSM (ball related), hostility, enemies to lovers. Language. (w/c 2.4k)
Loki’s curses beat the air behind you, and the door from the training room slammed; smothering them.
I fucking hate him, I fucking hate him.
In your experience, dramatic exits should be reserved for special occasions. And striking an ego-killer blow to Loki ‘Godsplainer’ Laufeyson was a special-fucking-occasion. It’d been a long time coming. Although you hadn’t meant to punch him quite so sharply in the balls.
I’m sure he’s had worse, you thought as the stale sweat of the changing room hit.
The last thing you’d seen was Steve’s wide, earnest eyes as Loki had doubled over in a slap of dark hair with a muted oomph—the final syllables of his snarky ‘advice’ fading along with his sperm count. You did warn Loki if he told you the correct way to deliver a blow to the transversus one more time that you’d start intentionally missing.
Not my fault he never fucking listens.
It’d been building for months: every ‘actually-I-think-you’ll-find’; ‘bad-form-even-for-a-mortal’ and ‘are-you-sure-you’re-meant-to-be-here…did-you-sneak-in-with-the-domestic-staff?’.
But under it all, the worst thought of all was your own: you still want his praise.
You picked up someone’s shoe from the floor and lobbed it at the lockers – pure, impotent rage ratcheting back with the clang. If Steve kicked you off the A-Team then so be it, worth it to see that moment of pure, wretched shock in his eyes every time you closed your own.
Breaths scraped from your throat, trying to stop the tremble in your hands. You’d spent months trying to catch his eye like a desperate pick-me teenager, spent months wishing his approval into existence: the aloof, pretentious god. Begging any higher power who’d listen for the chance to kneel at his feet and choke on his cock while he called you a good-fucking-girl. You’d bought an emerald green lingerie set for Christ’s sake. It was still in the box—the returns window a dot on the horizon.
Embarrassing. If he knew, you think you’d die of shame. Months running yourself into the ground trying to fit what he’d want and for what? Fuck. “Do you feel better, now?” The ripple of Loki’s smarm filled the air like steam, but it’s edge could cut stone.
Your lips pinched, biting back a slew of curses. You’d expected Steve, but not him.
The idea of turning made your feet root even firmer to the floor. But with every strained second that shifted past, thickening the air, he was winning—staring at the back of your head with that imperious look that only said one thing: I’m better than you, and you know it.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, don’t hold your breath.” Loki released a low chuckle. “Be assured, I can wait much longer than you. How much of your meagre lifespan would you squander staring at those dismal tiles in order to preserve the façade of your superiority, I wonder?”
You spun with a force that twinged a nerve in your neck. “My…?” It came out in a pathetic gasp. “My…superiority?!”
Loki’s face was the picture of serenity: posture impeccable, lips straight. His eyes slid between yours, brows peaked in sanctimonious expectation.
Borderline indecent gym-wear clung to the sinews of his muscular body. The material was like elasticated silk, and every time you’d made contact in training it made it impossible not to imagine frotting against him: bitch in heat.
The lines of the sweatpants draped like a sheet of liquid tar to the bulge of his thighs as he shifted his weight and said, simply, “Yes.”
Heat flared up your neck. “You’ve got some fucking balls, Laufeyson, I’ll give you that,” you hissed, regretting it immediately. “I’m not sure your knuckles experienced my anatomy’s full glory to report on such an accolade,” Loki replied without a beat. “Their contact was a little brief…”
He tilted his head, an infuriating dimple crushing into one cheek as the heat scorched up your cheeks and made your eyes itch. “A little…weak.”
“Maybe I should twist them again,” you said, folding your arms. You hoped he couldn’t see the fingers trembling. Loki’s eyes narrowed as he crossed the changing room in three, elegant strides and loomed so close that your bellies touched. “Go on then,” he goaded. “You seem under the impression I don’t like it.”
You searched his face, noting the tremor of something deeper than the familiar irritation. Was that…but, it couldn’t be. “What are you doing?” you whispered, stumbling slightly against the lockers. The heat from his abdomen radiated through your gym top. Christ, his stomach was so hard.
“What are you doing, Agent?”
A few black strands had come loose from his ponytail, sticking to the sweat pearling on his jaw. “All bark, no bite,” he murmured, squinting lightly.
His scent crept up your nostrils like smoke under a door: fresh musk, the linger of the cologne he wore at last night’s party, and above it all a scent that was inextricably him. You could never put your finger on it. It drove you mad: just like the rest of him.
Loki released a short puff of irritation, eyes rolling to the side. “I knew you didn’t have it in you.” As he took a step back, your mind skidded to a stop as a hand flew to his chest, gathering a clutch of the slutty gym top, making no effort to cushion the scrape of your nails against his skin, and pulled.
Loki’s mouth crushed to yours with a gasp, his hands flying to the lockers on either side of your head with an ominous crunch of metal. His breath groaned into your throat, the softness of his lips jerking your senses.
Had you expected them to be cold, hard, unwelcoming: just like the rest of him? Yes. But there was time to mull over that later.
Loki’s tongue nudged against your lips, and you relented. The tension in your body seemed to melt as he draped over you like liquid; the cage of his frame and the rub of a thumb down the valley of your cheekbone making you forget just for a second how much you really fucking hated him.
“Show me,” he murmured against your neck. You hadn’t even realised the kiss had slid apart and your head was tilted back against the lockers, the god’s mouth raging a ravenous path down the valley of your throat.
“Show you what?” you panted, bringing your head forward so quickly your vision swam. A lopsided grin spread across his mouth. “How much you hate me,” he said. “You have a problem.” The barb was unnecessary, but Loki’s grin widened all the same. “Discipline me, then.”
His sapphire eyes blazed as your hand flew to his shorts, grabbing his crotch. Fingers curled around the soft, tight sac nestled below the huge erection snaking up the hip joint. Loki hissed, stomach clenching, more clutches of hair falling free. His forehead pressed to yours as your grip tightened.
“Fuck,” he grunted, voice tapering to a whine. You squeezed tighter, and the lockers behind you crumpled under the strength of his fists bearing down.
“Harder,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
His legendary cock twitched above your white knuckles, straining against the running shorts and Loki’s narrowed eyes glistened, the muscles in his jaw and the veins in his neck hard enough to pop.
“Apologise,” you spat, and Loki’s breath hitched as you gave him a brief moment of relief before clenching an even tighter fist than before.
His trainers slipped against the floor, thighs shaking with the effort not to fall to his knees. Even gods, it appeared, shared some of the weaknesses of men. Loki flipped his hair back.
“Why should I? You’re the c-combative v-viper.” A deep set of lines furrowed his forehead, rippling with each flex of your fingers. “You’re nothing but a shit-talking, spoiled prince with a big cock and nice hair,” you said, every muscle tingling with the desire raging through your veins. “You noticed,” Loki said with the twitch of an eyebrow: incorrigible, even in this position. “The hair, I mean,” he added. He didn’t mean the hair.
The god swept your forearm to the side, and your fingers ached immediately. How tight was I holding him? But there wasn’t time to wonder. His kiss slammed into you with the force of a storm, teeth clashing and his fingertips digging in to your scalp and the wet slide of lips across your own. “Loki,” you breathed, and he moaned into your mouth in response. You found yourself bucking against his hard body, grasping at everything and anything you could to be closer to him; to wind yourself so tightly to him that you though you might snap.
And then, your fingers were playing at his waistband. Loki drew back: eyes wild. “Really?” he asked, flushed and breathless. You stared at him, searching his eyes for any hint of ulterior motive, any sign he was about to pull the rug from under you. You gave a curt nod, and Loki’s expression rippled with surprise.
Your hands slid up the sides of his face, tangling in his hair. “You better make it good, considering you have a lot to make up for.” Loki snorted, “Please,” and then several things happened at once. Out of the corner of your eye, the door to the changing room glowed green around the crack. Loki shoved the waistband of his shorts down, scooping his cock in one hand while you fumbled with your leggings and send them skittering across the gleaming floor. “Norns,” Loki groaned as he cupped your breasts under the flimsy sports top, palming upwards. Beneath the bra, your nipples were hard as pebbles.
His brows peaked as his gaze rose from your chest to your face: a realisation that there wasn’t time for all that— all the filthy things you were beginning to realise he’d fantasised about. All the filthy thing you were beginning to accept that you’d fantasised about. “Maybe next time,” you muttered, pulling his hair-tie free in one sharp movement. A wicked smile unfurled on Loki’s lips.
He dipped, burying his face in your chest as he cupped the back of your thighs and you let out a gasp as he hoisted you upwards. Your legs folded around his hips, slick pussy flush to his stomach, sliding down the taut skin until you met the solid bar of flesh beneath.
“Oh, Agent,” he said in your ear, low and smooth, “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”
You shoved his shoulder, but Loki’s fingertips sank into the soft curve of your ass, pushing you up so your slit hovered above the crown of his cock.
His eyebrow rose. “Last chance,” he said with a ladle of sarcasm.
Steadying one hand on his shoulder, you scraped the other through his hair, winding in a fist. You tugged, slowly…slowly, and Loki groaned, letting you sink onto his cock with every sharp ache pinching at his scalp. His thrusts weren’t like you imagined: selfish, primal, uncontrolled. If anyone was a Jackhammer —you’d always imagined it would be Loki. But his hips rolled like dough, undulating against you until your eyes rolled back and the rear of your skull cracked against the lockers. “Harder,” you sobbed quietly, nails digging into his back muscle. “Harder,” Loki groaned, his breath hot in the hollow of your neck. “Ruin me, Agent—I’m in your hands.” You dragged the nails deep against his skin: not enough to break blood, but close. Loki’s ragged breaths of pleasure made a new thrill swell between your legs, meeting his sloppy fucks like you were trying to beat him.
The fist wound in his hair yanked again, and again, and each time…the gods hips jolted. His thrusts were faster now— your moans higher— the rattle of the metal lockers and the squeak of rubber soles on tile making your mind swim. “Can I come?” he gurgled between rough exhales, and you pulled his face to yours. There was something in his eyes you’d never seen before—swimming in the whirlpool of blue. “No,” you said, and his head fell back to the ceiling. Loki’s veined cock tugged every inch of your walls as he pulled out, and buried in, stars bursting in your vision as climax began to shift and slide in the depths like a riptide.
Your legs spasmed against his hips, crossed ankles digging into the base of his spine, the grip on the god’s hair unbreakable. Biting back the urge to sob his name, you slammed your hips down to the root of his length, pulling Loki’s mouth to yours. His tongue massaged the syllables of his own name forming on your tongue, the rumble in your throat matching the one you could feel in the depths of his chest.
“Gods,” he choked when you broke, panting, riding your cunt in sloppy thrusts.
You could feel the slip of your cum between your thighs, and coating the length of his cock: and Loki could too. He looked at you with something a little like fear, one hand flying from your ass and steadying against the lockers.
“Can I—” he started, but before you could respond his knees buckled, wobbling as orgasm hit him like a train. Loki’s cry echoed around the changing room, the pained pleasure of his release making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Fuck: he was beautiful. And now...it was over. A sharp stab of sadness slipped between your ribs. The doorhandle shoogled violently. “Everything okay in there? Loki?” You and Loki’s eyes met. Steve was outside. And he wasn't alone. “What if he’s fallen? Jeepers, the floors are freshly waxed for crivven’s sakes—” “—will you calm down. I think Loki can handle himself on some polished floors,” Sam said dryly through the door. “—Bet that’s not the only thing that’s been polished,” Bucky replied, and even at a distance you could feel the heat building in Steve’s cheeks. “You’re disgusting—our comrade could be in peril. I don’t know what got into her.” There were a series of snorts, and several brisk knocks. “Yo, Laufeyson. You in peril in there?” Sam asked, and Bucky’s laugh followed. “Yes,” Loki whispered; brushing a sex-damp strand of hair from your cheek. His eyes searched yours, pinning you to the lockers as he lowered you to the floor. “I think I might be.”
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#loki x reader#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki x you#loki x you smut#loki fanfiction#loki x female reader#lokismut#loki laufeyson#loki marvel#loki imagine#loki fanfic#loki x yn#loki odinson#loki x female reader smut
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hiii! I’m here to request a scenario (headcanon? Drabble? it doesn’t rlly matter; do whatever fits best, just as long as Yuta and Megumi is in it :3, you can add another character if you want or something!!) when the reader is being admired/stalked by another person? Like jjk men hear a snap sound and whip their head to see someone taking a picture of reader, or jjk men noticing the same person commenting + viewing reader’s social medias all the time, etc etc! It doesn’t rlly matter how you want it to play out; do what you like :3
STALKER IN SIGHT?!
featuring: fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji.
n. thanku for the request and the creative liberty on this one nonnie <3 have fun seeing them all protective with their own ways for you !
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
megumi and you sat together in a quaint little café, savoring the warmth of your drinks and the comfort of each other's company, a faint click disrupted the moment. lost in conversation, you barely registered the sound, but megumi's keen senses picked it up immediately.
"what’s wrong?" you asked, puzzled by the slight shift in his demeanor. “i think someone just took a photo of us," he replied, tone tinged with concern.
you glanced around, but saw no one with a camera. "really? i didn't notice anyone."
he nodded, his gaze focused on a young man a few tables away, phone in hand, a smug grin on his face. without hesitation, megumi rose from his seat, his movements purposeful yet controlled.
with a protective instinct, he strode over to the guy, calmly but firmly retrieving their phone. "i'm sorry, but i'll have to delete that photo," he said, his voice carrying a subtle warning. as for the person, they were taken aback by his assertiveness, complied without hesitation.
“thank you," your boyfriend said, his tone polite yet tinged with a subtle warning. "we do appreciate your cooperation."
with that, he returned to your table, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. "sorry about that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee. "i just wanted to make sure our moment wasn't interrupted."
GOJO SATORU
"babe, do you feel like we're being followed?" unsure, you sounded apprehensive.
he chuckled lightly, his gaze scanning the surroundings with practiced ease. "don't worry, darling. i've got my eyes on everything. if there's anyone following us, they'll regret it."
relieved by his assurance, you relaxed, allowing yourself to get lost in the beauty of the moment. but as the evening wore on, the feeling persisted, growing stronger with each passing minute. and then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of movement, a shadow flitting among the trees.
your boyfriend noticed first. his face clouded, and a flash of rage lit in his body. "stay close to me," he said, voice low and menacing.
"alright, enough is enough," he declared, cutting through the silence like a blade. "whoever you are, show yourself.”
“you don’t wanna get on my bad side, really.”
from the shadows emerged a figure, their features obscured by the fading light. "i-i... i just wanted to... to…"
your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and his tolerance wore thin. with a quick burst of speed, he closed the distance between them in an instant, his palm clutching the stalker's collar like a vice. "you just wanted to do what?" stalk us? follow us around like a creep?” gojo’s aura exuded an undeniable terror that sent shocks down the stalker's body.
the stalker trembled beneath his grasp, their breath coming in shallow gasps. "i... i'm sorry, i didn't mean any harm. i just... i just wanted to be close to her."
gojo's grip tightened, eyes flashing with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the darkness. “if i ever catch you following us again," he threatened, "you'll wish you'd never laid eyes on us. understood?"
ITADORI YUUJI
together, you and itadori were enjoying a serene moment in the park, laughing and chatting as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. the silence was abruptly broken, though, by the sound of surrounding camera shutters clicking.
itadori's smile faltered as he noticed a group of guys discreetly taking photos of you both. his expression turned from confusion to annoyance, his brows furrowing in irritation.
"not cool, dude," he called out, his sound firm but not overly aggressive.
the guys turned to look at him, their faces displaying a mixture of surprise and defiance. one of them chuckled nervously, attempting to brush off itadori's remark. "hey man, just capturing the moment, you know?"
your boyfriend, however, would not have it. his movements gave off a subdued threat as he walked towards the group. "i understand, but you’re making me and my girlfriend uncomfortable. so stop it.”
taking advantage of the crowd, one of the guys moved forward with aggression, their fists balled up with rage. "who do you think you are, telling us what to do?" itadori's muscles tensed, his gaze hardening in anticipation. however, he refrained, showing strength in his control, before things might get out of hand.
the guy, taken aback by itadori's composure, hesitated for a moment before backing down, his bravado replaced by a palpable sense of fear. "o-okay, man, we'll stop," he muttered, trembling slightly.
with a final warning glance, itadori returned to your side, a huge grin painting his lips. "as i was saying," he continued, as if the whole tragedy didn’t happen a few seconds ago. “we have to watch jennifer lawrence’s new movie together, babe, okay?”
YUUTA OKKOTSU
you were laughing and chatting as you looked through the shelves of a pleasant shop with yuuta, exploring the various products on exhibit. your boyfriend trailed along behind you, half-heartedly staring at a customer's phone nearby as you moved to make a purchase.
his expression shifted subtly as he noticed the username, the same one that had been relentlessly stalking you for months, liking and commenting on your social media posts. his jaw clenched with a mixture of concern and irritation, but he maintained his composure.
leaning casually against the counter, yuuta shot a seemingly innocuous question towards the customer, his tone deceptively casual. "the girl's pretty, huh?"
the customer, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry, hesitated for a moment before reluctantly answering, "y-yeah, she is."
with a small, knowing smile, yuuta straightened up, his gaze piercing as he delivered his response. "well, sucks for you, that's my girlfriend."
the customer's eyes widened in realization, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "i-i didn't mean any harm, i swear," he stammered.
yuuta's expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "i don't care what your intentions were. you've been making her uncomfortable for months, and that ends now. stop stalking her, or you'll have me to deal with."
the customer nodded hastily, his hands trembling as he pocketed his phone and made a hasty exit, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in his wake.
turning back to you with a soft smile, yuuta wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what happened?" you asked with a chuckle, he was suddenly clinging onto you.
"nah, just grateful i have the prettiest girlfriend alive."
@uzurakis — rqs are open <3
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#.writing#megumi fluff#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#fushiguro x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori x reader#itadori yuuji#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#yuuta x reader#yuuta x you#yuuta fluff#itadori fluff#gojo fluff
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Blues
Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader
[warning: mdni, mature/explicit (18+), riding, bathtub sex, p in v, slight degrading, let me know if i missed anything
[note | i just got inspired out of nowhere :D just a short one
Deep hues of orange and yellow danced around the room caused by the flickering candle lights. It gave the perfect ambiance for relaxation. The bathing chambers in Dragonstone had transformed into a private tableau of passion and raw desire, the warm water of the bathtub rippled like molten gold beneath the dim, as it laid on your skin. Jacaerys stood at the entrance, his figure a powerful silhouette against the light, every movement conveying a deep need.
You were already in the tub, your body submerged and partially obscured by the swirling water. The sight of you, vulnerable and serene in your repose, seemed to ignite a storm within him. He approached with deliberate, almost ceremonial movements, each step a testament to the tempest of emotions swirling inside him.
"Jace," you started, but he silenced you with a fierce, almost punishing kiss. His lips crashed against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to make you gasp. The kiss was rough, possessive, and it took your breath away.
"I need this," he growled against your lips, his voice raw with anger and desperation. "I need you." You nodded, understanding the storm raging inside him. His mother's decisions had been weighing heavily on him, and he needed an outlet for his frustration.
Without a word, he lifted you from the water and seated you upon his lap. The contrast between the warm, wet embrace of the tub and the burning intensity of his touch created a scene almost too vivid to be true. Your soaked shift was pushed up around your waist in an instant, and he wasted no time in positioning himself beneath you. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you slightly, the head of his cock pressing insistently at your entrance. There was no gentleness, no hesitation.
With a single, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, eliciting a strangled cry from your lips. The water splashed violently around you as he set a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and fast, each one driving him deeper inside you. The sound of water slapping against the sides of the tub mixed with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies colliding, your breathless moans, and his guttural groans.
"Fuck," he snarled, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it hurt. "You're so fucking tight." You could feel his anger in every movement, the way his fingers dug into your flesh, the way his hips snapped up to meet yours with almost violent intensity. The raw power of his need was overwhelming, and it drove you wild with desire.
"Jace," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea. His name on your lips seemed to push him even further, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. He reached around to grasp your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple almost painfully as he drove into you.
"You're mine," he growled, his voice a rough whisper in your ear. "No one else's. I'm going to fill you up, make sure everyone knows who you belong to."
The words sent a thrill through you, heightening your arousal. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, the intensity of his thrusts pushing you closer to the edge. The thought of him claiming you so completely, of his seed filling you, was enough to drive you wild.
"You want that, don't you?" he panted, his voice rough and demanding. "You want me to fill you up, to breed you."
"Yes," you gasped, the idea sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Yes, Jace, please."
"Good my dear," he growled, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. "I'm going to make sure you're dripping with me. You'll be swollen with my child, everyone will know you're mine." His words pushed you closer to the edge, the pressure inside you building to an almost unbearable peak. The idea of carrying his child, of being marked by him so completely, sent you spiraling.
As his thrusts grew more frantic, you could feel the bulge of his cock with each deep, powerful thrust. The sensation of him stretching you so fully was intoxicating, and you could hear the lewd, wet sounds of him moving inside you, each one echoing the intensity of your connection.
"Do you feel that?" he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Feel how deep I am inside you? I'm going to fill you so full, you'll be able to feel me for days."
"Yes," you whimpered, your body trembling with anticipation and need. "I can feel you, Jace. You're so big."
His pace quickened, the slapping of water against skin filling the room, mingling with your cries of pleasure. The pressure inside you built to an almost unbearable peak, and you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of release.
With one hand, Jacaerys pressed down on your lower abdomen, the sensation of him moving in and out of you intensified by the pressure. "By the gods," he growled. "You feel amazing."
You nodded frantically, the added sensation making everything more intense. His other hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look down. "Watch," he demanded. "Watch how I fuck you."
Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped at the sight. His cock slid in and out of you with powerful, relentless thrusts, each one making the water around you splash. The sight was mesmerizing, his size and the way he filled you completely almost too much to bear.
He pulled your face to his, pressing your foreheads together. His eyes bored into yours, dark and intense. "You like this, don't you?" he hissed, his voice both degrading and desperate.
"Being fucked like this, so hard you can feel it days later."
"Yes, Jace," you moaned, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "I love it."
"Good," he growled. "Because I'm going to fill you up so full, you'll be swollen with my child. Everyone will know you're mine."
His words sent a jolt of electricity through you, pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, your cries echoing off the walls.
The sensation of you tightening around him was too much for Jacaerys. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his own release tearing through him as he groaned your name.
You felt him pulse inside you, his warmth flooding you completely. He stayed buried deep within you, his body shaking with the force of his release.
For a moment, you both stayed still, panting and spent, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of your coupling.
Jacaerys rested his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hot on your skin. "You drive me crazy," he murmured again, but this time his voice was softer, more tender.
You turned your head to look at him, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "I know," you replied, your voice a whisper. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
He chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. "Neither would I," he agreed, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close, the warm and gentleness of your shared presence giving way to a quiet moment.
[a/n: (if you don’t wanna be tagged on 18+ things let me know!)
taglist: @spn-obession @benjicotblckwood @beebeechaos @travelingmypassion @shoxji @thornsandtulips @giovanna-hyt @r-3dlips @eddie-brii @thornsandtulips
banner: @cafekitsune
#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#hotd season 2#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#house targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#hotd smut#jacaerys x you#hotd jacaerys#prince jacaerys#jacaerys smut#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys angst#jacaerys valaryon x reader#jacaerys strong#jacaerys fluff
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Fulfilling Duty
Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Reader
Warnings: smut, pinv sex, fingering, reference to pregnancy and childbirth, brief reference to death during childbirth, reference to prostitution, implied arranged marriage, breeding kink, body image issues, implied innocence kink, older man/younger woman.
Italics indicate flashback
Gif creds to owner
After nine long months of pregnancy and two gruelling days of labour, Tywin Lannister finally had the son he craved. Little Darrick was perfect in every way. At almost four months, he guzzled his milk the way King Robert his guzzled his wine; he roared like a lion when something was amiss, fat angry tears pouring down his reddened little face until his mother or father consoled him; his hair thickened and lightened every day, though he showed no trace of Lannister emerald eyes (much you your elation; he already looked so much like Tywin so it was nice to see a shred of yourself in your son’s face).
The birth of your son only strengthened Tywin’s… affection towards you. It was not love- not yet at least- but his respect and fondness certainly grew. During the home stretch of your labour he had barged into the birthing room after overhearing an outspoken courtier’s gossip.
Your labour had dragged on and almost two whole days had passed since you first started having pains. While you had started in relatively high spirits, as progress began to falter almost to a halt and ‘one more push’ became an empty promise, your resolve almost completely shattered.
What had started as determined groans and howls of pain turned into whimpers, and then sobs as you begged the maester to just, please, get it out of you.
It seemed Tywin hadn’t unclenched his jaw for days, and while he wanted to remain just a room away in his office should he be called into the room, the Seven Kingdoms would not stop for any infant, not even the son of the Hand.
He had been walking back from an audience with disgruntled artisans from the city when he overheard some courtiers.
“… glad she’s shut up with the screaming, could hardly sleep a wink last night…”
“… should just cut her open, drag the babe out and have done with it… wouldn’t be the first Lannister woman to die in childbed…”
“… he’ll want another off her, just in case… especially if she gives him a girl…”
Tywin’s nostrils flared with rage, and while he would have so dearly loved to confront the gossiping courtiers, he marched to the tower of the hand, entering your chamber to the shock of your midwives and maester.
“Milord! Women’s work is still happening! The baby ain’t here yet,” scolded Jeyne. She was the eldest of the flock midwives attending you and the most experienced too, and had been crucial in supporting you.
Tywin held up his hand, and jeyne pursed her lips, knowing she could not argue. “Fine. But you’re not to interfere down here, milord. We’re nearly there,”
“You said that- ah- last night,” you said weakly, your voice shaky. Tywin sighed softly and knelt at your side, pushing your hair away from your face. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, one that he had done when you consummated your marriage. “‘M sorry, m-my lord,” you whispered, unable to stop the tears from slipping down your already damp cheeks.
“You needn’t be,” he said lowly, speaking so only you could hear. “You are doing well, just a little longer,”
Although the midwives and maester had repeated the same words over and over again over the last day, Tywin’s firm, authoritative voice reassured you, renewing your determination.
Tywin’s eyes flicked sideways to you. It was the first public event you had attended since giving birth, and he had kept a close eye on you all day. He’d even insisted on your retiring to bed for several hours in between the joust and the feast (“fine, I’ll rest. But only because I didn’t want to watch the archery anyway,”).
If you were tired, it did not show. You looked radiant, smiling serenely as you clapped for the dancing. You had changed into a gown of soft pink brocade, and while he always preferred to have you on his arm in matching Lannister red, he had to admit that the muted pink suited you beautifully, and provided a fresh and youthful contrast to his daughter’s sour, almost vulgar even by his standards, display of power.
“If you continue to glance at me so, you will miss the dancing, husband,” you said out of the corner of your mouth, bemused at the almost uncharacteristic attentiveness of the Old Lion.
“Then I shall miss the dancing,” he said lowly, though he kept his eyes dutifully on the entertainments. “Are you sure you will not sit?”
You rolled your eyes, turning to face him fully. “No,” you said with exasperation. “I am well rested, I promise you, My Lord,” your lips quirked into a smirk. “I may even join in with the dancing,” you added.
Tywins jaw clenched as he looked down at his mischievous young wife. Your pregnancy and subsequent birthing of a viable heir for him had consolidated your power in court- and your worth in the marriage. “Then you shall dance only with me,” he said. “I will not have you jostled so,”
And so the Lord Paramount of the West took his wife by the hand and led her to the dance floor, lest she be manhandled by less careful members of court.
Grinning, you held onto his hand, beginning the steps that you had known since childhood. “I so love it when you give in to my whims, Lord Lannister,” you murmured, laughing lightly at his grumble of agreement. He supposed he owed you a fair bit, now that you had given him his heir.
“You are as stubborn as a mule when you want to be, wife,” he muttered, pulling you closer to his body by the waist as a drunken jester weaved through the crowd, his motley cap jingling. But despite his complaints, Tywin permitted you two more dances, before you retreated from the crowd- the bawdy songs had began, and he would not have his wife passed about like the maidens in the songs.
Instead of sitting back down, Tywin took you before the king, bowing and excusing the two of you. “We must retire for the night, your Grace. Lady Lannister is very tired,” he said shortly, bowing once more as the king waved you away.
You followed him, your face indignant, but you did not dare question him until you were out of earshot of any high lords. “I most certainly am not tired, My Lord,” you said, running a little to keep up with his long strides. “I do not need to be bundled off to bed like a child- again,”
Tywin ignored your complaints, only speaking once you arrived at the entrance to the Tower- and even then he only spoke to the guard at the door. “No one is to enter this tower until tomorrow,” he said lowly, before all but frog-marching you through the door and up the winding stairs.
“My lord?” You asked cautiously when you arrived at his chambers. “Have I displeased you?”
Tywin turned around to face you. “No, wife,” he murmured, stepping closer to you so that you had to look up at him. “You have not displeased me… exasperated, perhaps, but not displeased,” you smiled slightly, opening your mouth to speak, but Tywin cupped your head with both of his hands, his thumbs stroking your jaw. “I intend to bed you tonight, My Lady,” he said, voice gravelly. Your face heated, but you nodded slowly. “Your body should be ready to take me once more,” he continued. “That is if you are agreeable?” He added, raising a brow. He had laid out from the beginning that while he expected you to do your duty and provide him with a son, he would not have you in his bed unwilling.
Nodding slowly, eyes wide as you stared up at him, you let out a shaky breath. "I… yes. Please," you murmured your consent, following him out of the solar to his adjoining bedchamber, where the hearth was crackling and the luxurious bedsheets were already turned down. Tywin poured out a cup of wine, offering you it, nodding when you smiled at the vintage before finishing the cup for you.
“Do you think it will hurt?” You murmured out of the blue, taking your jewellery off and setting it on his dresser.
“It may be a little uncomfortable, perhaps. Not as painful as childbirth, I’m sure, nor breaking your maidenhead,” your eyes widened at his words and he smirked. He so loved to see you flustered. “Such an innocent, wife,” he said, stepping closer to you and undoing the pins in your hair. He nodded his approval when you unwound the braids, shaking out your hair.
“It has been a while…” you considered, looking up at him in the mirror as he stepped behind you, beginning to unlace your gown.
“It has,” he said in agreement.
“Will you be gentle with me?” You whispered, eyes widening as his hand slipped up your front, over your breasts, lightly squeezing your throat before he tilted your head to the side.
“Absolutely not,” he growled into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his teeth grazing there as your gown fell stiffly to the floor.
You made to turn to begin undressing him, but he lightly batted your hands away, continuing to strip you of your stays and chemise until you were bare before him.
Eyes downcast, you made to wrap your arms around yourself; your pregnancy had left it’s mark on your body, your belly soft and marked with stretch marks, your breasts hanging heavier than they had when you first married. Tywin held your hands by your sides briefly, before his large hands claimed your hips, his thumbs massaging the softness of your belly. “I want another babe in your belly before year’s end,” he said lowly, making you shiver. “I want to watch you swell again with another of my heirs,”
“Yes, my lord,” you breathed, your breath hitching as he gripped your hips tighter, drawing your naked body to his, your skin hot against the cool metalwork of his belt and buttons. Slowly, he began to walk you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and he helped you up onto the mattress, his eyes blazing with lust. His green-gold eyes pierced you as he removed his chain of linked golden hands, his doublet, his boots and trousers too. Your eyes flicked down briefly as you admired your husband’s build; despite his age, Tywin was fit and strong, and your glance did not go unnoticed by him.
Tywin got up onto the bed, looking down at you as he came up between your legs, which fell apart willingly to allocate his breadth, to which he hummed with approval, his hands dragging up your thighs. You sighed softly as your body refamiliarised itself with the weight atop it, offering him a soft, shy smile. He returned it with a rare quirk of his lips, before his fingers teased closer to your exposed core, shushing you gently when you gasped. Whimpering, you arched your back as he dipped his fingers into your waiting wetness, body tense. “Are you in pain, wife?” He said lowly, his movements stilling.
“No…” you whispered, pushing your hips up to his hand as if to reassure him.
He nodded, looking down at you as his fingers worked you open for the first time in months, though he did not seem out of practice in the slightest. He watched intently as your face contorted, brow furrowing and mouth falling open, and your body twisted while you clenched around his fingers. When he felt the erotic spasming of your inner walls, he nodded and hummed with satisfaction, before withdrawing his fingers. You watched in awe as he used your release coating his fingers and dripping onto his palm to slick up his cock.
“You look as though you belong in a pleasure house in Lys, spread out like that,” he said, his voice gravelly with desire. And he had a point; your breasts rose and fell with shaky, heavy breaths; your eyes were now dark with lust, brow furrowed and lips plump as you stared down at him, propped up on the pillows with your hair splayed out.
“Are you calling me a whore, My Lord?” You questioned, pushing yourself up on your elbows.
“No,” he said, guiding his cock to you. “But if you were a whore, you would be mine alone,”
He grunted, pushing into your tightness. With a cry, you tossed your head back, your nails clawing into the Lion of Lannister’s muscled back and arms as you adjusted to his invasion. You hissed out a curse between your teeth, gasping as he stilled, smirking down at you. “Such deplorable language,” he said, and you could only whimper in response, gritting your teeth and scratching at his back. Despite his promise to not be gentle with you, he held you tight to his body by your thigh, massaging the quivering limb with his hand as you adjusted to the suffocating tightness of your union. With a needy whine, you rolled your hips experimentally, grinding your clit against his pubis. The resulting tightening of your channel had him hissing in pleasure, and with a low groan he began to move with slow deep thrusts that had your head spinning.
One hand still gripping his bicep like a vice, you trailed your other hand over his shoulder anchoring yourself as you made feeble attempts to meet his movements. Grunting, Tywin grasped onto your hips, before moving his grip to your thighs, holding them apart as he began to fuck you harder, faster. You cried out at the shift in pace, arching your back as Lord Tywin took his pleasure (though he gave just as much as he took). He let out a groan of pleasure as his own thighs trembled and his hips stuttered, and he emptied his seed into you.
Moaning lowly, you fell back into the pillows, panting. You felt the bed dip then settle as he withdrew from you and stood, and your eyes slipped shut as you heard him rustling about the room, the door slamming shut. You frowned. He must have dressed quickly. With a sigh, you stood up, albeit shakily and slipped your chemise back on. His thick seed seeped down your thigh as you stood before the mirror, combing out the tangles in your hair with your fingers.
The door opened, and Tywin stepped into the room, but before he acknowledged you, he turned to what you assumed was his squire. “Have the servants bring up two plates from the feast, and a flagon of Arbor Gold,” he said to the lad, who responded with a quiet ‘yes, My Lord.’ “And see to it that Lady Lannister’s handmaidens know to come here on the morrow with her gown and jewels. She will be staying here tonight,”
He dismissed the squire with a nod and shut the door, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to return to my own chambers, my Lord,” you murmured, finally able to smooth your hair down over your shoulders.
“Indeed not,” he said simply. “I was merely arranging some supper and wine,”
You crossed your arms. “And for my handmaidens to come here on the morrow?” You teased.
Tywin only smirked, prowling over to you. “Indeed,” he said. “It would seem, wife, that we must return to bed…” you cocked your head to the side, looking up at him curiously. “An heir will not find its way into your belly if my seed is dripping down your thighs, now, will it?”
#tywin lannister fic#tywin lannister smut#Tywin Lannister x reader#Tywin Lannister x you#Tywin Lannister imagine#tywin lannister#tywin lannister fanfic#game of thrones#game of thrones one shot#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones smut
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I want you to imagine that Charles and Erik dated during First Class.
I want you to imagine that everyone in the team knew and had no problem with it. That after the satellite dish scene, they kissed.
I want you to imagine that someone in the team (let’s say it’s Sean) had a knack for photography. That he took a picture. That Erik, in a stroke of romanticism took it and wrote on its back.
Now I want you to imagine that, many decades later, Charles has a photograph on the far back of the drawer of his nightstand. That it’s a picture of two young men kissing tenderly with the flora of Westchester on the background. That the words “The point between rage and serenity” are written on its back. That he only takes it out in his worst moments. A reminder that even the worst of sinners have the potential to be God’s favourites.
Why are you imagining this? This never happened. No one had a knack for photography. They never kissed. They never said “I love you”.
If you’re a writer or an artist , this is a petition. Do something with this before I explode. The clock is ticking.
#cherik#erik lehnsherr#charles xavier#charles x erik#fanfic#fanfic rec#xmen#getting together#lgbtq#angst#reeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaalllllllyyyyy heavy#heavy angst#fic#suffer
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needed you - qh43
summary: y/n has an intense fear of storms, particularly the incessantly loud rumbling thunder.
word count: 3.4k
notes: @sweetestdesire request for a a quinny fic. “You’re really scared of some thunder? C’mere.” turned out to be angsty but soft quinn
warnings: use of y/n, tense, angst, may induce stress, soft quinn,
"See ya, guys! Thanks for the fun night in," Y/n called out to her friends as they filed out the door, their laughter and chatter echoing down the hallway. She waved goodbye, feeling a bit relieved that the party had wound down. The quiet was a welcome change from the earlier clamor of games and gossip. The apartment was left in a gentle mess, but the warm glow of friendship lingered in the air.
Y/n stretched while she yawned and began to clean up, her mind wandering to Quinn. She knew he was out with the team, but she had hoped he'd be home sooner. The thought of his strong arms around her, calming her raging thoughts through the impending storm, brought a smile to her face and a bit of ease to the sickness winding in her stomach. As she packed away the last of the snacks, she glanced out the window. The night was still, the moon casting a serene light over the cityscape. She couldn't wait to crawl into bed and cuddle up with him, sharing stories about their respective evenings.
Meanwhile, at the bar, Quinn sat in the middle of a booth between Brock and Petey, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over from the beers. The laughter of his teammates washed over him, but he couldn't find the energy to join in. He checked his phone again, noticing it was already 12:30 AM. He had promised Y/n he'd be home early tonight, but the guys had talked him into a few more drinks. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he never truly goes out so maybe just this once it should be okay to be selfish.
“Huggy put your phone down! We’re here to have fun.” Garland slurs from the other end of the table.
Quinn nodded and slid his phone into his pocket. He knew he had to stop checking it every few minutes. It was getting late and Y/n was probably worried, but he didn’t want to dampen the mood with his own anxieties. He took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling aside, focusing instead on the raucous laughter around him. The bass of the music pounded through the bar, making the floor vibrate beneath his feet. It was the kind of music that demanded you to either get up and dance or get lost in the rhythm, and for a brief moment, he let it consume him.
Back at the apartment, Y/n stood in their kitchen with shaking hands, the weather gradually getting worse was setting her nerves on edge. The wind had picked up outside, whipping against the windows like a crazed lover. Rain had started to patter down, a prelude to the storm that had her heart racing. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that Quinn was just stuck in traffic or had lost track of time. He'd be home soon, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But the silence of his unanswered texts and calls was deafening.
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to do, anything to distract her from the storm brewing outside and the one building inside her chest. She settled on making a cup of tea, her hands trembling as she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. The gentle hiss of the gas flame igniting filled the room, but it did little to calm her nerves. As the water heated, she checked her phone again, willing it to buzz with a message from Quinn. Nothing. The wind howled, and the rain grew heavier, now pounding against the windows.
“Maybe if I call him?” She thought out loud. The clock read 1:10 AM as she dialed the number she knew by heart.
“Hey, you’ve reached Quinn, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” His voice, though much younger and recorded, brought a bit of comfort, but not enough to ease the two storms brewing. The one in her and the one outside. She took a deep breath and began to leave a voicemail, her voice shaky but steady.
“Hey, Quinny, it’s me. Hope you’re having fun with the guys. Uhm just wanted to let you know that the storm is starting to get pretty intense out there... I’m sure you guys are fine and just having a good time. Call me when you get this, okay? I…just mi—want to know you’re okay. I love you, bye!” She hung up before she could say anything else that might betray her fear.
1:30 AM.
The bar was getting louder, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and sweat. Quinn leaned back in the booth, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The music was a cacophony of beats and shouts that didn't quite drown out the thunderous pounding of his own thoughts. His eyes scanned the table, finding his teammates passed out, their heads resting in a pool of spilled drinks and crumbs. He had never felt more out of place, yet he stayed to make sure these morons made it home.
If Quinn knew anything in that moment it was for sure that he’d be getting them back at practice this week.
Back at the apartment, Y/n's trembling grew more pronounced with each passing minute. She couldn't ignore the storm anymore. It had started as a gentle whisper, a hint of rain against the windows, but had escalated into a full-blown symphony of thunder and lightning. Her heart hammered in her chest, each peal of thunder sending shockwaves through her body. She curled up on Quinn's side of the bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, the cold screen a stark contrast to her clammy palms. The scent of his cologne still lingered on the pillow, faint but comforting. She buried her face in it, breathing him in, willing him to appear through the door.
‘One more call? No that’s to creepy clingy girlfriendy.. But he likes clingy girlfriendy y/n..’
Her thoughts swirled in a tornado of doubt and fear. Finally, she gave in, hitting the call button with trembling fingers. The line rang once, twice, three times, before she heard his voice, a recorded message that didn’t ease the ache in her chest this time. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic from seeping into her voice.
“Quinn, it’s me again. The storm is really bad out here. The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared. I know you’re busy, but I need you. I know you said you’d be home early, and I trusted you. Please, come home soon. I’m not okay without you here with me, especially when it’s like this. I love you so much, and I just want to be safe with you. Call me, text me, anything. I need to know you’re okay. I’m just—I’m really scared, Quinn. I’m sorry, I know I sound desperate, but I can’t help it. I need you right now. Please come home soon. Uhm bye,” she whispered into the void, the weight of her words hanging in the silent apartment like the eye of the storm.
The phone remained eerily silent, the screen a cold, unyielding barrier to the warmth she craved. She sent one more text, a simple heart emoji, and hoped that somehow, it would be enough to break through the barrier holding him hostage from his phone.
With each flash of lightning, the shadows from the windows grew more menacing, reaching in like skeletal fingers to pluck at her already frazzled nerves. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her fleece blanket and bolted from the bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood floor, and dashed into the ensuite bathroom. The only room in the apartment that didn't have windows and hopefully wouldn’t make her feel claustrophobic. The bathroom was a small sanctuary of porcelain and tile, the scent of mint and the hum of the extractor fan a stark contrast to the tempest outside. She locked the door behind her, creating a barrier between her and the storm, but it didn't help. She could still hear the thunder rumbling like a displeased giant, each boom echoing through the walls and reverberating the foundation of the building.
Her phone, now a silent sentinel of her fear, remained in her hand. She checked it again, hoping against hope that she had missed a call or a text. The screen remained dark, cold, and unchanged. Her heart sank, the weight of loneliness pressing down on her chest like a lead blanket. 'Why isn’t he answering?' Her thoughts screamed. She knew he wasn’t the type to ignore her, especially when she was scared. Maybe his phone died, or maybe he was too busy, but the doubt was eating her alive.
Quinn's head snapped up, the sound of his ringtone piercing through the buzz of the bar dwindling down. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone to see Y/n's name flashing on the screen. He had missed a couple calls and quite a few texts from her, each one more frantic than the last. His heart sank as he saw the time, 2 AM. He quickly stood up, knocking over Petey, who fell into Dak, in his haste. Which worked out in his favor as he had to walk over them. The room filled with fuzzy stars for a moment, a reminder of the drinks he too had consumed. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn’t driving, so he ordered up an Uber home.
As he waited, Quinn felt his stomach twist into knots. He knew how much Y/n hated storms and here he was, leaving her alone to face it. He had promised to be there for her, and now she was probably terrified out of her mind. He scrolled through the texts, each one a silent plea for him to come home. He read the last one, her voice echoing in his mind. "I'm really scared, Quinn." He cringed, feeling like a complete asshole for not being there for her.
The Uber pulled up, and Quinn practically threw himself into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind him. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, the concern clear in his eyes. "You okay, buddy?"
Quinn nodded, trying to ignore the guilt that clawed at him. He fumbled with his phone, finally managing to play the voicemails. Y/n's voice filled his ear, each word a dagger to his heart. "The storm is really bad out here," she whispered, and he could almost feel the tremble in her voice. "The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared." The sound of her sobs grew louder, the thunder outside seeming to sync with her cries. Quinn wasn’t afraid of much, so he didn’t quite understand his girlfriend’s fear over storms. It could be because she didn’t care to say why she’s scared, and he wasn’t going to press her. It’s evident they bother her, and it’s enough for him to be the support she needs.
Until he’s not.
The bathroom door rattled in its frame as the storm outside reached a crescendo. Lightning flashing under the space between the door and the floor. Y/n had never thought that lightning was the scary part of storms, it has always been the thunder that had driven her to seek refuge in someone, something, someplace. She wasn’t quite sure why the deep, resonating booms always managed to succeed in getting her so worked up.
Maybe when she was younger it was because she had always associated them with crawling in bed with her parents or if the power went out they would gather in the living room to play games in the candle light. Until the day every thing just up and changed. No one was there to help her weather the storm, figuratively or literally.
Maybe now it’s because she has grown accustomed to associating thunderstorms with Quinn's soothing touch and whispers, telling her that everything would be okay. That with him, he would never let anything happen to her. He, who had become her anchor in the storm, was nowhere to be found.
The Uber ride home was a blur of neon lights and puddles reflecting the chaos of the storm. Quinn's mind was racing, his thoughts tangled with guilt and fear for Y/n. He had never been the one to break a promise, especially not one so important to her. He had to get home, had to hold her and tell her it was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.
The car pulled up to the apartment complex, and Quinn dashed out into the rain. The cold droplets stung his skin, sobering him up as he sprinted towards the building. The lights in the hallway flickered as he panted up the stairs, the thunder now a constant drumroll in his ears. His hand shook as he inserted the key into the lock, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing through the empty corridor.
He burst into the apartment, the door slamming against the wall. "Y/n!" he called out, his voice strained with worry. The living room was dark, except for the TV screen flickering with a muted news broadcast. Rainwater dripped from his hair, tracing a path down his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped it away, his heart racing as if he had just played a full hockey game. Quinn let out a heavy breath before he hurried upstairs towards their bedroom.
Reaching the bedroom door, he carefully pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. The bed, usually a bastion of order and comfort, was a writhing mess of blankets and pillows. It was clear she had been restless, her fear probably keeping her from finding any semblance of peace. But she wasn’t there. The room was empty except for the ghosts of his guilt and her fear. He flipped on the lights, the sudden brightness piercing the gloom, revealing the chaos of his side of their now empty bed.
Quinn's eyes searched the room, looking for any clue as to where she could be. That’s when he heard it. A muffled sound, faint but unmistakable. Sniffles, coming from the bathroom. He approached the closed door, the thunder outside giving way to the quiet that follows, as if the storm was holding its breath. He placed his hand on the cool wood, feeling the vibration of the storm's power through it. "Y/n?" he called out as softly as possible.
The sniffles grew quieter, almost as if she was trying to control her cries. She stepped out of her place of refuge enough to unlock the door, she then quickly retreated back to her previous position. She was curled up in the bathtub, her knees to her chest, her chin perched on her knees, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
Quinn’s heart broke when he saw her like this. He had never seen her so scared, so vulnerable. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her further. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. But she jerked away from his touch, her body stiff and face showing no emotion.
He dropped to his knees, the one desperate for her attention now.
"Y/n, baby, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I had no idea it was this bad." He took a step closer, the scent of rain and alcohol mingling with the faint minty scent of their bathroom. He wished he could take away her fear, absorb it into himself so she didn't have to feel it anymore.
"You promised me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You promised me, I would never be alone again with no warning, no explanation beforehand. You promised you’d be home early." She choked back a cry on the last part, her eyes glued to the faucet, watching the droplets of water fall into the tub. Quinn shattered into a trillion pieces. He had promised all of that. No apology will be enough to make any of this better, he accepted that, but he had to at least try.
"I know," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I fucked up, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't mean to leave you like this." He paused, willing her to look at him, to see the pain in his eyes that mirrored hers. "You're my entire world, you're everything to me. I'd never want to cause you pain, especially not when you're already scared." He tried reaching for her again, this time to push her hair back and combing his fingers through her hair. He left his hand cradling her head.
"Garland told me to put my phone away," he murmured, his voice low and tight. "And before I knew it, Brock was pretty drunk and Petey was extremely wasted. I had a few myself. The music was so loud that the bass kept me from feeling the vibrations of my phone, and I lost track of time. With them so wasted, I felt I needed to make sure they got home okay, but when I finally checked my phone.” Quinn paused swallowing down the knot in his throat “and I discovered your calls and all the messages I left." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt. "I know it doesn’t account for the fact I should have checked my phone way before, I should have come home earlier like I had promised."
Y/n felt the anger and fear melt away with each of his words. She knew the guys could be a handful. What group of hockey players weren’t a handful? She didn’t want to add anymore to his burden of guilt. She leaned into his hand, the warmth of his touch sending waves of comfort through her. "Can we go cuddle now?" She asked him shyly, her voice still shaky. The storm outside was slowly calming down, but the tempest in her chest raged on. She needed him, needed his warmth and his words of comfort to soothe her. Quinn quickly wiped the shocked look from his that was slapped on the moment cuddle now fell from her lips.
“C’mere pretty girl.” Quinn grins as he lifts her from her bathtub refuge. “I will never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with you.” He softly places her down on her side of the bed, walking to his dresser to grab himself a set of dry clothes, finally. “I’ll be right back to you.”
Y/n nods into his chest, watching him retreat back into the bathroom. She takes a deep breath, the fear of losing him subsiding more and more with his touch. She grabs the first t-shirt she can find from his drawer, pulls it over her head and wraps it around herself like a cocoon. She crawls into bed, able to relax this time around when lying down.
When Quinn returns, freshly changed into a dry shirt and sweatpants, the sight of her in his shirt brings a warm smile to his face. He slides into bed next to her, pulling her close so that they are face to face. Fitting together as if they were made for each other. She feels the warmth of his body seep into hers, the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm as she lays her hand flat on his chest. The rhythm of it soothing her like a lullaby.
"I could feel and listen to your heart all day, just to know you’re okay," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled but clear enough for him to hear. He pulls her in tighter, a silent acknowledgement. A low rumble of thunder in the distance happens and he rubs his hand soothingly over the back of her head.
Quinn whispers, "I’m making you a new promise, pretty girl. I promise from here on out I will not be going out when storms are predicted. Only exceptions of course are those to do with work. Unless it’s just the guys wanting to go out, that is not work related.” Y/n didn’t speak, to exhausted to form words just nodded her head in acknowledgment before dozing off.
He watched her for a few minutes, grateful to be holding her in his arms. The thought of her curled up in the tub, terrified, was a knife in his chest. He had never meant to cause her this much pain. He kissed the top of her head reveling in her soft breaths as she slept before whispering what’s been on his mind since his shower to her sleeping form. “I noticed you didn’t end your second voicemail with an ‘i love you’ or now before falling asleep…we’ve always made a point to make sure the other knows, regardless of how bad the argument was. I know you aren’t hearing this because you’re asleep but it’s easier to say it now than looking in your eyes tomorrow and watching tonight all over. I just really hope you know how much I love you.”
“Good gracious, you forget and he gets all sappy. Yes Quinny I love you. I love you. I love you.” In between each ‘I love you’ was a peck on the lips.
Quinn couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm, like a quiet summer night. He pulled her closer, the storm outside now just a faint memory, the rain had turned to a gentle pitter-patter. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her lips, feeling the tension of the night slip away with each touch.
"You know you're going to have to repeat that when I’m fully awake, right?" She mumbled falling right back asleep.
“That is perfectly fine, I’ll be right here next to you whenever you’re ready.” Quinn closed his eyes and was soon asleep as well.
A night of two tales, Quinn is lucky it worked out for him and happy he’s able to keep his girl.
#cay writes#quintin hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes fluff#quinn hughes angst#Vancouver Canucks fic#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl fics#hockey fic#soft!quinn hughes
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ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕟𝕖: Love at first sight
Word count: 3865
Summary: Y/n are oppressed and exploited, her grueling day of endless cleaning is a bleak reminder of her harsh reality. However, when she stumbles into a serene studio and meets Felix, an omega whose scent promises comfort, her world shifts. As Felix reveals Y/n’s true destiny as their last mate, she finds herself torn between fear and hope. With Alpha Chan’s unexpected kindness and the warmth of her newfound pack, Y/n’s journey from a life of servitude to a place of belonging begins, sparking a transformative chapter of love, acceptance, and new beginnings.
Warning: Angst/comfort, abuse, cursing, hate, insecurities.
“Are you done cleaning the dance studios?” a rough voice asked Y/n, causing her body to go still on the floor. She was on her knees, finishing up the last of the cafeteria cleaning. Her body ached, and her arms screamed in pain from the scrubbing and washing she had been doing all day.
“Yes, Alpha,” she whispered, bowing her head and staring at the floor. She despised this situation; she despised him. Her hands trembled with fear as she awaited his command, waiting for him to use her, to dictate her next move like the slave she felt she was. But she could endure no more; everything hurt. She was on the verge of passing out. Exhausted was an understatement.
“Very well then, once you’re done here, go finish up in the studios. Most of the producers have been up and about all day, and their scents are becoming nauseating,” he snarled at her as he grabbed a plate. “I believe you have nothing else to do, hm, pretty girl?” He knelt down and grasped the omega by her chin. All she could do was look at him with disgust and fear. His fingers clawed at her jaw, making her whimper. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for him to violate her as he normally did, but he was quickly interrupted by a group of trainees making their way to grab their dinner.
He huffed in frustration as he quickly pushed her away, causing the girl to knock over the bucket of water she had been using to clean the café earlier. She scrambled away from the raging alpha, fully aware of what he was capable of. “Look what you’ve done!” he hissed. “Clean this up and finish with the studios. I’ll see you later.” He licked his lips as his eyes roamed up and down her body. She stiffened and quickly grabbed the cleaning supplies from the ground. She knew better than to make a scene, as it would attract the attention of the trainees who were now chattering and selecting their meals.
“Pfft, pathetic,” she hears him say before he forces a smile and walks over to the kitchen. Once the coast is clear, she lets out a soft whimper as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She hated every part of this—who wouldn’t? Being an omega was already difficult. They were at the bottom of the hierarchy and treated like objects rather than human beings. They were weaker and smaller, viewed merely as breeding machines, used solely for giving birth to pups for their packs or mates. It was truly horrible to be an omega.
Just like Y/n, many omegas were sold for substantial sums due to their rarity. Omegas began to go extinct when alphas established the largest omega rings, engaging in selling and trading while abusing their power. This exploitation led to the gradual decline of omegas, who suffered from painful subdrops or were outright killed. If an omega was found wandering alone without a pack, it was often the last time they would be seen.
“Breathe, it’ll be okay,” she whispered to herself as she grabbed her bucket and made her way to the studio. She walked through various corridors, ensuring she greeted her fellow omegas who were also working alongside her. Some of them were friendly, while others remained nonverbal due to the abuse they endured underground. The JYP building is enormous, housing a multitude of employees. The omegas knew their routes, focusing solely on cleaning and other duties, working day and night to ensure that all trainees and important idols were satisfied and that no complaints arose. If a complaint was lodged against an omega, they were taken away and never seen again. It is a cruel reality.
The first studio was dimly lit; it resembled the other studios, but this one was designated exclusively for Alphas. The scents surrounding her made her feel uneasy, and her Omega growled in response. However, she knew she had to complete her task or face punishment. She quickly began working to eliminate the overpowering scents of the Alphas, her hands moving swiftly as she hoped no other Alphas would enter. With determination, she successfully finished her work and made her way to the last studio.
She felt weak and exhausted, a fact evident in her trembling knees and chapped lips. She hoped they would be fed tonight, but her mind was spinning, and her inner omega was furious with her. The omega constantly urged her to protect herself or flee, but Y/N had learned to ignore this inner voice, leading to a back-and-forth struggle between them, sometimes resulting in complete silence, which could lead to a subdrop if she wasn't careful.
When she finally reached the last studio, she noticed the sign written on door, straykids, she instantly instantly let out a sigh of relief. This was the only room she could tolerate due to the pleasant They weren't gross or overwhelming like those those in the rooms for the other other groups of idols trainees; instead, instead, aromas aromas comforted At first, first, thought thought was was strange, but she got used used to it, making it one of the rooms rooms she actually actually enjoy. She quickly entered and to clean clean up. No one was inside, which they they all probably probably gone home. she she mistaken mistaken when she heard the door open and close, prompting her to hide behind the couch. Was it an alpha?
“Hello?” a deep voice called, sending shivers down her spine. “Is anyone in here?” he asked again, walking around. His footsteps were light, and his scent was incredibly sweet. Her omega was going feral over it, and she could instantly tell he was a member of the group also an omega, which helped to calm her nerves.
Mate, Mate, Mate, Mate.
What? Her eyes widened as she shrugged off her omega, which did not please her omega, causing her to start going feral.
Mate! mate! mate! Smells so good!
“Stop it,” she whispered harshly to herself, attempting to suppress the cries for this so-called mate. Her heart raced, and her chest felt tight. The room fell silent as she slammed her hands against her mouth, realizing what she had just done.
“Stop what?” The voice startled her, causing her to scream and fall back against the wall. She looked up and saw a blonde man gazing at her with a puzzled expression, almost grinning at the younger omega. “I knew someone was in here,” he said, chuckling. “What are you doing?” He extended his hand to help her up. “There’s no need to hide,” he added, his eyes sparkling as the corners of her eyes crinkled.
She sat up, terrified, wishing the wall could swallow her whole. He was beautiful, with long blonde hair and tiny freckles scattered across his face. His smile was radiant, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he let out another giggle.
“I’m so sorry; I was just cleaning. I’ll leave now. Please don’t tell—” she began to panic as she quickly stood up from the corner. If she hadn’t had her patches on, she knew the room would have been filled with her rotting scent.
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I won’t hurt you,” the omega said, standing up from the sofa and raising his hands in defense. “I won’t tell anyone, okay? But are you alright?” Felix looked at the trembling omega, attempting to soothe her by releasing pheromones. He had never seen her before, but his omega was howling and urging him to talk to her, hold her, and even protect her.
What’s your name?” He stepped forward slowly, extending his hand for her to take. “Come on, I promise I won’t hurt you.” Y/n felt dazed; his scent was both calming and overwhelming. Her omega instincts craved it, as if it were gradually healing her body from its aches. “Y/n… my name is Y/n,” she replied softly, her hand slowly reaching for his.
Felix let out a sigh of relief as she took his hand. Electricity coursed through his veins at their skin. Her omega was satisfied with the contact, and both of their eyes flashed gold. “Well, Y/n, my name is Felix. You have such a lovely name,” he said with a smile. He understood why she was terrified; after all, he was an omega too, and he knew how cruel people could be. Judging by her reaction, he had a feeling she was one of the less fortunate omegas who were targets in this harsh world.
“Thank you. I apologize for you finding me here,” Felix said, looking at the omega with confusion. Why was she apologizing? “I was almost done cleaning, I promise. I’ll head out now; don’t mind—”
“Wait, why the rush?” His hand tightened around her wrist, causing her eyes to land on their intertwined fingers. “I was waiting for Channie-hyung anyway. I could use some company,” he smiled, hoping the omega would stay a little longer. “Would you like a drink? You look quite unwell,” he remarked while analyzing her facial features. She was beautiful; she really was. However, she appeared quite unhealthy, and Felix instinctively knew she was a cleaner based on her outfit and the cloth in her hand.
“I-I can’t; I will get into trouble…” The sound of a drink was enticing to Y/N, but she couldn’t risk getting into trouble again—not after the incident that occurred last time. If she did, she would face severe consequences, or worse.
“Oh, come on, just one drink! I promise no one will find out. It’ll be our little secret. Plus, I have so much left!” he exclaimed dramatically, causing her to smile. That made Felix’s heart skip a beat. “I made you smile, which means you owe me this,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and eliciting a tiny chuckle from Y/n.
Her eyes quickly glanced at the time, and she sighed, realizing that the omega—well, Felix—wouldn't give up. “O-okay. Just one drink won't hurt,” she finally conceded. She hadn’t felt this happy in a while. Even if it was just a little, she couldn’t help but develop feelings for the boy, her omega purring in response. He barely knew her, yet he was so caring.
"What would you like? We have a variety thanks to Changbin-hyung; he loves collecting different drinks for everyone." He squats in front of the mini freezer, sorting through the variety of beverages. "I geuss you wouldn't like anything alcoholic," he says, looking up at her. She quickly shakes her head in response.
“Can I please have a bottle ofwater?” she asked quietly. Something simple yet satisfying.
“Yes, of course,” he said, grabbing a cold water bottle and a fruit bar before handing them to her and sitting down on the couch with his drink in hand. “Here, sit,” he patted the couch. “I promise I don’t bite,” he teased. She gave him a small smile before sitting at a distance and sipping the water. She couldn’t help but moan, earning a look from Felix.
“Sorry, its been a while, when she noticed the shocked look on his face. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't help it; the cold water soothed her throat.
“Been a while since you had a drink ofwater?” he asked, glancing at the omega nervously. What the hell was wrong with the JYP staff team.
“Yeah,” she says quietly, her eyes fixed on the table as she appears embarrassed. Felix couldn't help but frown; his omega instincts urged him to take her, to nest with her, and to cuddle her until she felt better and looked healthier. However, he knew that for now—at least until Chan arrived—he would have to maintain his composure. He honestly didn’t know how to manage all the emotions he was feeling, and it was evident when the omega next to him shifted and looked at him nervously.
“U-um, Felix… are you okay? Your scent—” She wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning cake or chocolate brownies; she couldn't quite pinpoint it.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, covering his glands with his hands in an attempt to calm down. “My omega is just going really crazy right now.” She gasped upon hearing this. So, her omega wasn’t the only one acting erratically? Was Felix actually her mate? No, that was impossible. She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. His scent sweetened even more at the thought of her being their last mate.
“Cute,” Felix couldn't help but whisper, causing her to turn as red as a tomato. “I mean—” he coughed, feeling his own cheeks flush, “ugh! I’m sorry; I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he grumbled while tugging at his sweatshirt.
“It’s okay, Felix. My—um, my omega really likes your scent,” she says quietly, nervous that he might reject her. “She keeps saying something about…”
“Mate?” he asked, equally shocked by her reaction.
“How did you know?"
“Because my omega is saying the same thing,” Felix says quickly as he sits up with a smile on his face.
“But… it can’t be,” she whispered, looking at the bottle in her hand. “This has to be a mistake.” She shot up from the chair, startling Felix a bit. Was this too much for her to handle? He let out a tiny whimper, afraid she was going to reject the bond. They barely knew each other, and he had already screwed up.
“No, please don’t leave,” he pleads, gently grasping her wrist. “This has to mean something, right? We can’t just ignore it.” She tensed as she sensed another scent in the room quickly looking at the door. An alpha.
Fuck.
“Felix, I’m sorry I’m late,” a panicked voice entered the room as the door swung open and then shut. Chan looked up from his phone when he sensed the panic in Felix’s scent. He stopped in his tracks upon noticing a girl standing close to Felix. “What’s going on?” he asked slowly while setting down his laptop bag. He growled, disliking the fact that one of his packmates was in distress.
Y/N flinched at his growl, quickly realizing he was the pack alpha. She gulped hard and lowered her head, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, Alpha. This is a big mistake. I mean no harm; I’ll leave now,” she said, panicking like a deer caught in the headlights. Her body, unlike before, began to tremble as she hurriedly grabbed her supplies.
“No, Y/nnie, wait! Don’t leave. Let’s talk about this," he begged once more desprate for her to stay. "Chan! She’s our last mate,” he exclaimed, looking at the alpha for help. “I know it! My omega has been going crazy, hyung.”
Shoot me now, was all Y/n thought as tears filled her eyes. Felix had potentially put her at great risk with this alpha. She didn’t know him, and to her, all alphas were mean and terrible.
“Okay…” He takes a deep breath calming down before stepping closer. “Let’s all take a deep breath and talk about this,” Chansaid, looking uneasy as he glances back and forth between the two omegas. Felix's hand remained tightly wrapped around her wrist. Chan noticing her work badge. Great she was an employee, he didnt have to worry about Felix's safety for now. “What’s your name, love?” he asks, releasing calming pheromones for both omegas to inhale.
Y/n looked at him nervously, but her body relaxed when his scent reached her. That was when she noticed what he had called her: Since when did alphas refer to omegas as Love? since when were alphas ever nice? Knowing the rules that had been established, she bowed and replied, demonstrating her submission to the pack alpha.
“Y/n, sir…” she says quietly, and Chan frowned at the name she had called him. Sir? Why would she refer to him that way unless… oh, no.
“You’re a ring omega?” Chan gasped, looking at her. He noticed all the signs: skinny, unhealthy, bruised, and dirty.
Y/n’s eyes widen at the mention of the ring, and her omega lets out a whimper, causing Chan's alpha to growl.
Protect, protect, protect.
His alpha chants resonated within him, leading to a profound realization: Mate.
“Yes—yes, sir,” she nodded, ashamed, while looking at the floor. Felix hadn’t even known this; well, he had his suspicions, as mentioned before, but he thought it might just be related to her job. “I truly apologize for intruding on your territory, Alpha. Please don’t hurt me. I will get out of your way,” she slipped her hand from Felix’s grip and bowed to the Alpha.
He smelled different from other Alphas, and the way he was built made her certain that he was a pack alpha, especially with the seven marks on his neck. Her omega instincts were on high alert. She longed to taste him, to beg for him; she wanted to bear his children and care for his pack. Her mind was telling her no, but her heart—and the slick that was growing between her folds—was saying yes. She desired him intensely.
“It’s okay, Y/nie. I won’t hurt you. How about you put everything down while Felix takes you back to the dorms to clean up? Hm? Obviously, judging by the way Felix is acting and how my alpha seems to want to mate and knot you right now in this studio, it means something.” He smiled, pulling Felix into a hug and giving him a deep kiss.
The boy blushes and lets out a whine, “Hyung! Not here.” He lightly smacks the alpha on the chest, causing him to laugh.
“M’ sorry. I just missedyou, pretty. did you have a good day?"
"yeah, we finished up the new dance with minho, he left to go start on dinner," his hands were wrapped around Chan's waist as he softly scents his cheek. "You're coming for dinner, right?" Chan hums in response, looking back up at Y/n and waiting for her to respond.
Y/n gazed at them adoringly, wishing she too had someone to kiss like that. However, she was jolted from her thoughts when she recalled what the alpha had asked earlier. Going back to the dorms? She would be in serious trouble with the head of staff if he found out. Was she truly their last mate? What would others think of her? What would the six other pack members think? This was all overwhelming, and her anxiety was causing her scent to saturate her patches, making them even itchier.
“I’ll take her to get cleaned up, Hyung. I can’t believe this!” he giggled excitedly. “We have another omega! Han is going to be so thrilled; we can create another racha.” He clapped his hands and quickly pecked Chan, making the older alpha grin at his happy omega. The room smelled sweet with all the joy.
“But… but my job, Alpha. I can’t leave. They’ll find me,” she whimpered, looking at Chan. Clear panic is evident in her eyes as he notices a familiar expression that Han would display whenever his panic attacks would strike.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll talk to them, alright? They can’t hurt you when they know you’re mine.”
Her heart fluttered at that; he had just claimed her.
“Yours?” she asks softly, gazing up at him. He smiles and gradually pulls her into a hug. Initially hesitant, he quickly envelops her when he sees her move closer, aching for his touch, he engulfs her quickly.
“Yes, mine. Will you allow us to take you in?” He asked rubbing her back as she slowly melted into his embrace.
“Yes. Yes, Alpha,” she whispered, but Chan whined at the name again. They would need to discuss that later.
"Oh my days! I'm going to explode with happiness! Y/bnie, you're the last packmate!" Felix was literally vibrating with joy.
Her omega was leaping with joy at the thought of finally being free and having a home filled with a pack. She inhaled more of his scent and couldn't help but smile. "I promise not to let you down once I become a part of the pack."
"I believe so. Welcome home, little one. It's been a while," she said with a giggle, covering her face shyly.
“Channie hyung?” Felix calls, pulling Chan out of the hug. He hums in response as he looks at the boy, who is all giddy and happy. “Can I take her shopping first, pretty please?! And to the hair salon and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Lixie. I know you're excited, and you can do all that after you introduce her to everyone.” Felix frowns but soon nods in agreement. “She needs some rest, plus Han would be furious with you when he finds out you went on an omega day out without him.” His eyes go wide before he nods again.
“You're right, hyung! Oh my gosh, I totally forgot. Come on, Y/nnie, we need to get you home as soon as possible!” He snaps his fingers before grabbing his bag.
“I’ll stay back and handle her paperwork, okay? I need to have a conversation with Sanhoo. I'll text the group and inform them about this. Please make sure Minho attends to her wounds,” Chan said, causing Y/n to tense up. She tugged at her skirt, now feeling a little self-conscious about it. He noticed but decided to talk to her about it later, not wanting her to feel embarrassed or insecure.
“Okay, babe, see you at home.” Felix pecks him on the cheek before grabbing her hand and leading her out the door.
“Felix, shouldn’t I drop off the cleaning supplies?” she asks, glancing back at the bucket and the items left scattered on the floor.
"No, I’ll take it." Chan quickly collected the few wash clothes and buckets.
“But sir-”
“I’ll take it. Y/nnie Don’t worry, I don’t want you running into Sanhoo; I promise it's okay,” Chan reassures her. Sensing she was uneasy about the situation, he couldn't blame her. He knew Sanhoo’s job and how he quite frankly made sure to embed fear into omegas. He didn’t like it at all, but there was little he could do.
"Okay,” she hesitated before making her way behind Felix. She was quiet the whole walk down. Felix entertained her by asking her questions and telling her about the pack and all the stories they lived. She was thankful that he was a yapper because her whole life she was isolated.
“Its 8:30; Minho-Hyung has probably cooked really delicious food. Do you like ramen?" Felix asks as they sit in the car. “Oh hi, Mingi!” He beams at the driver, who waves and bows to the younger boy. “This is our driver, Mingi. His going to be around for a while, so you have to get used to him.” He giggled before looking back at the driver. "Mingi, this is Y/N! We just found out she’s in the pack,” he boasts as he lays his head on her shoulder. “Isn’t she so pretty?” He asks innocently, causing the girl to blush and cover her face.
“She is indeed Yongbok; quite a lucky fella, aren't you?” The driver responds, enjoying the conversation with Felix.
“I am,” he says while yawning.
He glanced at Y/N before looking outside the window, explaining the different places and where the best spots are. Y/N listened to his calming voice, feeling safe and settled. Her eyes slowly shut and she felt a tiny kiss on her forehead as she slowly purrs due to the affection, falling into a deep sleep.
✩🍄🌻°。🧸🍎🧺☘️₊˚🍯
Authors note: Hey! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! please don't forget to reblog and follow. Welcome to my blog <3
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#skz werewolf au#skz!abo#poly skz#skz!werewolf au#poly hyunlix#bangchan angst#poly!skz#poly!stray kids#skz au#lee minho angst#skz x reader#skz angst#skz comfort#skz drabbles#skz hurt/comfort#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz yongbok#han jisungxreader#bang chan x reader#stray kids angst#stray kids comfort#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#straykids x reader#stray kids as boyfriend material
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I was wondering if you still take requests if you do here’s mine
Can you do a Dan Hang x reader, a AE!Sunday and a Aventurine x reader on how during a battle they get badly injured while protecting them(they were fighting together) and they (reader) looses there memory
Idk if u have something like this it’s fine if u cant do it it’s my first request so I hope this is ok
- Starry Anon ✨🩵
Remembrance of Shadows
Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, AE!Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Angst, Memory Loss, Protective Characters, Found Family Dynamics, Slow Burn Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Action, Heroic Sacrifice.
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Injuries and Blood, Themes of Amnesia, Emotional Hurt/Angst, Near-Death Experiences.
The battle raged on with relentless intensity. Your spear clashed with the enemy's weapons, every strike filled with determination to protect the Astral Express crew. Beside you, Dan Heng fought with his usual precision, Cloud-Piercer dancing through the air with deadly grace. His quiet presence, though reassuring, carried an unusual tension tonight—a subtle edge of protectiveness that hadn’t escaped your notice.
The enemy launched a sudden ambush, aiming for your blind spot. You barely had time to react before Dan Heng was there, intercepting the blow with his spear. The impact threw him off balance, but he recovered swiftly, his expression unreadable as always.
“Stay close,” he murmured, his voice calm despite the chaos.
The next attack came too quickly. A towering adversary hurled a devastating strike, and you knew instinctively you wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time. Before you could even think to cry out, Dan Heng stepped in front of you, taking the full brunt of the blow. The force sent him sprawling to the ground, blood staining his clothes.
“Dan Heng!” you screamed, rushing to his side. His usually stoic face twisted with pain, but his hand reached out to steady you.
“You need to stay... safe.” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Your vision blurred with tears as you tried to fend off the enemies closing in. But the world around you tilted violently, a blow to your head sending you into darkness.
When you woke, the room was quiet. The antiseptic scent of a medical bay filled your senses. You blinked slowly, your head pounding as you tried to piece together what had happened. A figure sat nearby, his teal eyes watching you with an intensity that made your heart ache.
“Who… are you?” you asked hesitantly.
Dan Heng stiffened, his calm demeanor faltering for the briefest moment. “It’s me,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Dan Heng. Don’t you remember?”
Your confusion deepened. His name felt familiar, yet distant, like a memory slipping through your fingers. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt lacing your voice. “I… I don’t.”
Dan Heng looked away, his jaw tightening. He stood, his movements careful as if concealing the pain of his injuries. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, though his voice carried an undertone of anguish. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”
And yet, as he turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that losing your memories of him might have hurt him more than any wound from the battle.
The battlefield was a nightmare of chaos and destruction. Sunday stood by your side, his halo glowing faintly amidst the smoke. His tailcoat fluttered as he deflected an enemy strike, his eyes sharp with determination. Despite his usual serene demeanor, he fought with an intensity you’d never seen before.
“Stay behind me,” he urged, his voice calm yet firm. “I won’t let them harm you.”
But the enemy was relentless. In a desperate move, one of them lunged toward you, their weapon aimed directly at your heart. Time seemed to slow as Sunday stepped between you and the blow. The attack hit him squarely, and he crumpled to the ground, his blood staining the earth.
“No!” you cried, catching him as he fell. His eyes met yours, still filled with a quiet resolve.
“I couldn’t let them take you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with pain. “You’re too important.”
Before you could respond, an enemy struck you from behind, and darkness engulfed you.
You awoke to the soft hum of the Astral Express. The bed beneath you was unfamiliar, and your head throbbed with a dull ache. A man sat nearby, his hair framing a face etched with concern.
“You’re awake,” he said, relief evident in his voice.
“Who are you?” you asked, your voice weak. His eyes widened slightly, and his serene expression wavered.
“I’m Sunday,” he said gently. “We’re… friends.”
The hesitation in his voice made you doubt his words, but his presence felt oddly comforting. “I don’t remember,” you admitted, your voice trembling.
Sunday’s gaze softened, though a shadow of pain lingered in his eyes. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “I’ll remind you, one step at a time.”
Even as he smiled, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of something unspoken—a bond lost to the void of your memories.
The enemy forces pressed closer, their numbers overwhelming. Aventurine’s laughter rang out, sharp and defiant as he dodged another attack. “Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with calculated mischief.
You fought back-to-back with him, your movements synchronized. Despite the danger, Aventurine seemed in his element, his every move precise and deliberate. But when a stray attack targeted you, he acted without hesitation.
“No cheating now!” he said with a grin, stepping in front of you. The enemy’s blade cut deep into his side, and he stumbled, blood dripping from the wound.
“Aventurine!” you cried, catching him as he fell. His ever-present smile faltered, replaced by a pained grimace.
“Don’t… worry about me,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just focus on winning.”
But you never got the chance. A sharp blow to your head sent you spiraling into unconsciousness.
When you woke, you were met with the sight of a man leaning against the wall, his hair tousled and his smile as enigmatic as ever.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, his tone light despite the bandages wrapped around his torso.
“Who are you?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.
For a moment, his smile faltered, and something akin to sorrow flashed in his eyes. “Just someone who’s really glad you’re awake,” he said, his voice unusually soft.
You wanted to ask more, but the warmth in his gaze stopped you. Though you couldn’t remember him, something about his presence felt safe—as if he’d gambled everything to keep you alive.
#x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#dan heng honkai star rail#hsr dan heng#dan heng x reader#dan heng x you#dan heng#sunday x reader#hsr sunday#sunday hsr#sunday#ae!sunday#angst#memory loss#protective#found family dynamics#slow burn#hurt/comfort#action#heroic sacrifice
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trust myself
desc ; sitting in with riki as he films his en-note and accompanying him through the multitude of emotions that follow.
pairing ; idol!nishimura riki x gf!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 1228 notes ; understand that i love riki because i see a version of myself in him...
When your boyfriend sits down at the hotel table, a singular lamp illuminating his screen with a yellow warmth, your heart aches at just the thought of what he might say next. Though Riki’s always been very skilled at switching between seriously honest and teasingly goofy, he becomes a completely different person when he’s filming en-notes.
He becomes so vulnerable to the invisible crowd that it hurts you more than it irks you. And sometimes, when confesses struggles even you have never heard from his mouth before, you wonder if you’re not enough for him. Not good enough a listener. Not trustworthy enough for him to confide in.
How come he only opens up under the pressure of the camera lens?
“Don’t stress out,” you mumble quickly before he presses the red record button on his phone screen. Three simple words and yet they have Riki pausing for a long moment, digesting your words.
After a while, he nods curtly. “I won’t.” He’s lying through his teeth. But he beckons you closer and as you lean in, he kisses your eyelid. Pulling away, he seems to smile slightly in an effort to coax you into relaxing. As if he wants you to give it up.
Though the tender action does send a wave of serenity through you, you can’t help but to feel a lingering sense of dread, with questions unanswered running through your mind. When will I get to find out something about him that the fans won’t? Or does he think he should just be honest with everyone at the same time? Is he not conscious of the world being familiar with the very depths of his soul?
Or are you just envious that somebody who isn’t exclusive to him is able to understand him like you do?
“27 June 2024.” Before you can get lost in your thoughts, Riki starts speaking. You hate with all your heart and soul the exhausted, subdued shadow over his features. He starts talking about their recent concert in Hiroshima — how they hold their Japanese single, ‘Blossom’, close to their hearts; how he’s proud of Jay for pressing through their performance even with an injured knee.
Then he gets to the hard stuff.
It’s like he already has one foot out the door when you send him a glare and he ignores it out the corner of his eye. As soon as he opens his mouth again, gaze trailing off to the bottom of the screen, you know it’s coming. The same phrase he likes to repeat over and over again, and then cover up with a ‘but you know, I just love performing in front of you guys.’
“I do have some regrets.”
You hope your glare is like a slap in the face to him. If it’s not, you don’t know what you’re going to do with him. All his following words just seep down the drain. Why does it pain you more than it pains him, to hear the words, ‘I need to work harder’ come out his mouth? Like he genuinely doesn’t see that he’s pushing himself to the limit already? This is exactly why you despise concert season. Coupled with jetlag, the mental form of fatigue seems to strike around these times as does physical, and it’s never good for Riki.
His words fall on deaf ears. You’re boiling with an inexplicable rage, but it’s the most tame version of the concept of anger.
You just don’t understand, as he stops the recording and turns back to you. You can’t tell if he plain doesn’t get the weight of the situation, or is trying to avoid your gaze solely due to that reason.
So before he returns to his usual playful self – you can see the light slowly returning to his eyes; he’s about to shove you to the other side of the bed with a snide quip – you grab his wrist and look at him scrutinisingly.
“Do you mean all those things you said?” You stare at him imploringly in the dim lighting. “Every single one of them?”
“Do you wish you could say more?” You say breathlessly, desperately looking from eye to eye like they’ll provide all the answers.
Clearly taken aback, your boyfriend gently pulls his hand from your vice grip. “I mean it,” he murmurs sincerely. “I mean it all. How could I not?”
Your gaze travels down his neck to the safety-pin necklace he refuses to take off. The meaning behind it is special to him, and likewise, he can’t be seen a day without it. His dedication and sincerity will never be deniable. So why do you feel as if there’s something he’s holding back, not telling you… a truth that he’s altered?
“There’s nothing more to say?” You press, slightly disappointed because there’s two explanations for this. One, he’s really got nothing left in him to spill, especially not to you. Or two, he just doesn’t want you to know what more he has to say. You can’t decide which’d be worse.
“...”
“I’m sorry.”
He reaches up to fiddle with his necklace as he climbs into bed beside you. “I know. You’re concerned because I hardly open up to you one-on-one. Rather, you have to hear it second-hand when I have ‘conversation’ with the fans.”
Right. He’s extremely insightful too. How did I forget that about him?
You just nod, taking care not to look too upset by the situation.
“Would it be a lame excuse to say that it’s because I don’t trust myself enough?” He whispers as he unzips his patchy blue jacket and unclips his earrings. “To come clean to you, that is.”
“Yes,” you say instantly, lightheartedly. ‘Okay but seriously, why don’t you trust yourself? Is that the truth, or do you not trust me enough? They’re different, you know.”
“I know…” he scoots closer to you and lies down on his side, facing you. “To put it simply, I’m scared that what comes out is a sugarcoated version of the truth. When I face you, I don’t want to worry you with… everything. When I face the camera… it’s different. Because what are they going to do about it? There’s nothing they can do to help.”
You make eye contact with him, and finally a sliver of anxiety crosses his orbs right before your eyes.
“I don’t like it when you put up a front with me though,” you say. “It worries me even more than you think.”
“Well, I know now,” he scoffs, moving the hair out your face and looking at you with such a tender look of love that the surroundings all fade away to dust. “I’m sorry. I’ll confide in you better next time… wow that sounds so…”
He cringes and buries his head into the pillows cutely. A mixture of affection and relief floods over you at this, and you touch his hands in silence.
When he lifts his face from the pillow, he pouts endearingly and intertwines your fingers together. “Seriously, there’s nobody I trust more than you, okay? Sorry if it didn’t feel that way.”
So, even though he’s supposed to be getting rest for their upcoming activities, he spends the rest of the night telling you the full, honest truth — and of course he pairs this with a bunch of kisses, teasing remarks and cuddles.
more of my works >
#stariikis#k-labels#enhypen#nishimura riki#enhypen x reader#enhypen riki#nishimura riki x reader#riki x reader#enhypen niki#enhypen nishimura riki#niki nishimura#riki nishimura x reader#niki x reader#nishimura riki x you#enhypen au#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen riki fanfic#riki x you#riki#ni ki#ni-ki#niki#riki x yn#niki fanfic#nishimura niki x reader
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need you so bad baby, please...
⋆⭒˚。♡‧₊˚ PAIRING: Azriel x fem!reader, wc: 2,9k , Inner circle mentioned
⋆⭒˚。♡‧₊˚ SUMMARY: brattaming, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, fingering, creampies, praise, daddy kink, a hint of degradation, mentions of ovulation, oral ( f. receiving ), edging, admiring Azriel ( me fr ), just some nasty smut and some fluff thrown in there 😈
⋆⭒˚。♡‧₊˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE: i was so hesitant to post this, omg, is this a cry for help? i’ll just go sit in the corner and cry🥲
Sweet, heavenly mother.
He was looking absolutely delectable. Fuck, it was kind off pissing you off. Like, who looks that good whilst sleeping.
You had woken up all warm with an ache between your thighs, knowing, if you took of your panties, there would be a big, fat, damp stain there. You turned your head to the side, as you admired your handsome, beautiful mate. Whenever Azriel was asleep, his beauty took on a serene and peaceful quality. His features, often intense and striking while awake, appeared softer and more relaxed. His dark hair was slightly tousled and hung over his eyes. His long, dark eyelashes rested gently on his cheeks. Even in slumber, his overall ability to look that attractive and stunning was wild.
You carefully inched closer to him, pondering over how grateful and content you were that he trusted you enough to sleep next to you without having his guard up. Azriel had previously voiced that he had never trusted anyone enough to truly sleep next to them completely relaxed. He was always alert in some way.
But never with you. Never his love, his mate, his heart.
The thought itself was enough to make your eyes burn slightly with a wave of fresh tears. Gods he trusted and loved you so much. As did you.
You were hit by this feeling, this instinct to be as close to him as possible. You slid under his blanket and put your head on his pillow, being so close to him that you were sharing the same breath.
You lifted your fingers to trail his cheekbones, jaw, lips, nose.
Gods, this male. Your love. Your mate. Your heart.
“ You’re staring at me, angel.” Of course he’d be aware, despite his eyes being closed. The corners of his mouth lifted as he slowly opened his eyes, gazing right back at you with heavenly hazel eyes.
“ I’m not staring, love. I’m simply admiring the view.” You smiled back at him as you lifted the covers ever so slightly, allowing you enough room to sit on his hard abs. He immediately brought his warm hands to the backs of your thighs, running his rough fingers over the soft skin as he supported your weight . You rested your hands on his bare chest as you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his lips. You angled your head to further deepen the kiss, nails digging into his chest as his hands moved up to your hips, giving them a slight squeeze.
You wanted more. You needed more.
You found it impossible to ignore the desire for your husband's intimate caresses, wanting hungrier kisses and firmer grips. Being turned on by your mate was a common feeling, but today, your attraction to him felt stronger than ever. It's as if...
You felt your body temperature rise as that syrupy feeling between your thighs had come back, making you realize what was going on.
The emotional rollercoaster. Doorknob snagged your shirt? Annoyed. Makeup malfunction? Furious. Favorite shirt in the laundry? Pure rage. The neediness and urge to be close to your mate?
You were ovulating.
Of course you were. Fae ovulations were no joke. They lasted longer than human ones and were twice as effective. The last time, Azriel nearly successfully got you pregnant. Not that you were complaining, you really wanted kids with Azriel, as you and him were the only ones without any babes yet.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” You hadn’t noticed that you had moved away from him. If his deep, timber voice hadn’t already been driving you insane, then his touch would have, the action sending your heart skipping. Azriel’s hands gripped your hips roughly before his fingers were gliding up the back of your shirt, before releaving you your clothing.
Your mate stared tracing soothing circles along your bare skin when he noticed you looking more fidgety than usual. You shyly looked away from his intense gaze, adding a layer of timidity. You turned your eyes back to his when he gave your hips a subtle squeeze. A hint of concern flickered in his eyes when you hesitated before responding to him.
“ Az, I- uhm I'm ovulating. I’m fine but I wanted to let you know.” You were both honest about everything, but you were kind of nervous telling him. You had discussed having your own kids one day, and that it was something you both wanted eventually. But now, you wanted nothing more than for your mate to pump you full of cum until his seed was spilling out of you.
He gave you a panty-dropping smirk, dark gaze causing you to falter slightly as you wondered if he could hear your dirty thoughts, his eyes telling you he wanted nothing more than to devour you on the spot. “I know. You’re rubbing all over me, love.” You hadn’t realized that you were subconsciously grinding against him, too lost in your admiration of his attentiveness.
But you didn’t stop grinding against him as you smirked and leaned forward again, licking a stripe from his collarbone up to his jaw. He let out a groan as his hand tightened on your hips, the sound of his pleasure sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.
“ M’gonna need you to fuck me now, Az.” The words dripping with neediness were borderline pornopgraphic, ripped a dark chuckle from within his chest.
Shit.
You knew you forgot to ask nicely but before you could add a ‘please’ , Azriel already beat you to it.
“Yeah? You just demand something and I’m supposed to just give it to you? No please or thank you?” You let out a whine knowing that he’d drag this out until you were begging before him. If there was one thing Azriel couldn't stand, it was bratty behaviour and no manners, especially from you. He had made sure several times to correct you over the years. It seems that he’d have to correct you again. What a shame.
He looked at you unimpressed with a faint smirk that sent shivers down your spine.
“ You think whining like a child will help? That’s not how I’ve taught you to ask for things. C’mon sweet girl, use your words. Ask properly.”
You looked up at him as you dropped your slight pout, knowing it wouldn’t help, as you gave your most heartfelt apology and asked as nicely as you possibly could.
Let’s face it, you were ass-kissing at this point but who cares? You wouldn’t dare risk Azriel withholding any of your pleasure, especially not tonight. The mere thought of him leaving you unfinished almost brought you to tears. “M’sorry daddy, but I really, really love it when you touch me. Could I please have some more?” He looked at you for a moment, face unreadable and nodded, “Lean back.”
You were honestly shocked that pathetic excuse of an apology actually worked. Usually, he made you beg properly if you didn’t ask him nicely. Maybe he let it slide this time. Well, whatever. You didn’t have the patience to ponder over it now. Ovulation made you a million times needier, so you’d take anything he’d give you.
He palmed your breasts roughly and pinched your stiffened nipples. His hands then trailed down your stomach until he reached your hips. Your soft moans had his cock hardening instantly. You giggled and tried to pull away, shrieking when Azriel flipped you over, his body falling over yours. He kissed his way down to your stomach, and back up again, diluted eyes following the way he spread your legs, exposing your mess to him. He ran a thumb up your clit and you shivered, biting your lip so hard you thought you’d draw blood.
“What a pretty pussy”, he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds. Finally, Azriel leaned in and started to lick your throbbing clit. Arching your back, you pressed his face further into your cunt. “ A-ah fuck, daddy. You make me feel so so so good, ahh.” You felt yourself being stretched by his two fingers as they curled, hitting that delicious, spongy spot that made you feel euphoric. He pumped his fingers in and out while sucking on your clit.
You whined at the lost of contact when he suddenly pulled away, leaving you feeling hollow.
Maybe he was changing positions? Ah, yes, that must be it.
Relief flooded your veins as he came back up to eye level again. It could only mean one thing.
You were at last getting filled by his delicious cock.
The thought alone made your mouth water.
You kept biting your lips again to prevent a moan to escape. He saw you holding back and didn’t accept any of it, simply kissing and leaving you breathless as you became putty in his strong arms. “ No holding back now, baby. Let me hear you" he mumbled into your mouth kissing you as he lined his hard cock up with your entrance and pushed in his tip. You matched his groan as you felt him slowly pull out before pushing back into you.
At first his pace was slow and steady, kissing your neck and leaving little bruises all over. Only after feeling your arms tighten around his neck did he speed up a little. “ M’not made of glass. Move faster and harder. I can’t come like this otherwise.” You knew you absolutely shouldn’t talk to him like that, especially now that you were desperate. But pleasure had clearly clouded your sanity.
He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at you but you didn’t see it as you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling every ridge of his cock slide against your sensitive walls. Soon enough his grip was tight on your hips and he was roughly thrusting against you. His groans only making you wetter.
“ F-fuck m’gonna cum-! I need to come, daddy please!” He brought down his fingers and rubbed tight circles against your clit making you let out a wanton moan.
Soon. So soon and you’d feel euphoria.
Closing your eyes, you began to writhe against his fingers. One more stroke and you’d finally release.
He kissed your lips slowly and completely halted all his movements. He had completely ruined your pleasure. Your eyes shot open only to find him looking down at you smugly.
“D-daddy, wait, no- please, what’s going on?”
“ Gods, you’re fucking cute. Why are you confused? Did you think I missed the way you talked to me? You really thought I'd let you cum after commanding me? Seems a bit of cock is all it takes for you to get stupid, huh? Honestly, I thought I had taught you how to behave and ask for things nicely, how to use your manners properly but I guess not. That’s my fault really.”
You wanted to scream. This was not happening , not right now.
“ I won’t do it again,m’so sorry daddy. Just please let me cum, please. M’gonna be good, I swear.” He caressed your cheek lovingly making you think he’d finally give in.
But you know what they say, “hope breeds eternal misery.”
“Hm, too late for that now, sweetheart. Only good girls get to come, and you weren't being very good now, were you?”
Fucking hell. You weren’t finishing anytime soon. What the hell were you thinking, trying to command him of all people?
-------
He edged you for hours. Pushing you to the brink only to rip away sweet release at the very last second. “Huh, where did that attitude go?” Your face was covered in tears that were beginning to blur your vision as yet another orgasm ebbed away. He had driven you stupid from his touch. You put in all your efforts to properly answer his questions this time.
“Now let’s try this one more time, baby. How do you address me?”
“I will address you accordingly.”
“ What will you not do?”
“Speak with no manners, be demanding or be rude, daddy.”
“Good job, love. Now why are you being punished?”
“ Because I addressed you wrong, I was being mouthy and I wasn’t using proper manners when I asked for what I wanted, daddy.”
He leaned in and gave your neck a gentle kiss. “That’s my girl. My perfect girl. My sweet baby.”
“ May I ask a question? ” He smiled and nodded. “ Of course you can, love.”
“ Do you want to have a baby with me? ”
Azriel froze as he looked down at you. He was silently staring for so long with an unreadable expression that it made you wonder if you should've asked him at all.
“ Az- ” Azriel’s stomach flipped as he heard your question. A baby. His dreams of starting a family with you were on the verge of becoming a reality. “ Want me to make you a mommy? D’you want me to put a baby in you, huh baby?” , he confirmed and you once again nodded frantically in agreement.
He spread your legs apart before settling himself in between them. Looking down at your flushed face, Azriel gave you a reassuring smile and put his hand on your cheek. “You look so beautiful.” You gave him a bashful smile and kissed his palm. “ You look so beautiful too, daddy.” He glanced down at you, holding your heated stare while he positioned himself between your legs. Your body slightly tensed, hands grabbing handfuls of the sheets below you, as Azriel stretched you open. Your head fell back as you let out a content groan in unison.
Before he could ask if he could move, you choked out an “m'good, please daddy. It feels so good, please move.” Azriel's eyes darken a fraction as he grabbed your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip “Yeah? You're so fucking good for me baby.”
Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him shattered as you tightened around him, pleasure raging inside you.
“F-fuckk, right there. Azzie, m'gonna cum.” You gasped as he leaned down, burying his head in your tits, latching onto your left nipple as he teased the other. The headbord creaked, as his cock left you mumbling and pleading while tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes. The combination of him sucking on your breasts and the push and pull of his dick inside of you, made you dizzy. He unlatched from your nipple with half-lidded eyes, making you flush.
“ Need to see you filled up with my cum, baby. ” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, biting your lip as you tried to contain the moan that was escaping you. Fuck, he really loved the way you clenched around him, bringing his fingers down to play with your neglected clit. You loved how vocal he was about what he wanted today, he usually wasn't.
I'm gonna give you my babes. Wanna see you nice and round, baby. Fuck, baby I'll take care of you don't worry.
The words erupted a primal need inside of you. You wanted babes with your mate, and he was willing to give you some.
He kept giving you deep strokes, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he sucked bruises on your neck. You kept moaning his name over, and over until you felt that familiar pressure build inside you. Tightening around his cock, you came while chanting his name, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure buzzed through you.
“ Ah, fuckk, this sweet cunt's milking me so fucking good. I'm gonna make you a mommy by tonight.” he chuckled, biting his lip as he saw you play with your nipple and clit. Azriel's thrusts were starting to get sloppy, indicating how close he was to the edge. Your husband kept muttering how much he needed to breed you and it made your realize just how turned on the idea made him.
So, of course, you gave him a final push.
“Let me make you a daddy. Cum inside me, please.” You encouraged him with an exhausted smile.
You felt his cum filling you up when he gave you a few final thrusts, putting his head in the crevice of your neck.
You both laid like that for a while before he carefully pulled out, making you whine a bit. His cum rushed out of you and he tsked with furrowed brows. He pushed his cum back in with two fingers. “What a waste that would've been.”
Azriel loves creampies, he'd never let one go to waste. Nothing makes him happier knowing that you're stuffed with him. His possessive side, felt satisfaction knowing that no other male would ever father your kids, making you his forever.
“You okay, baby? You did so well for me, sweet girl,” he softly mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. When you nodded, he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, lowering you into the already filled tub. You were on the brink of sleep when you felt him slip in behind you. Leaning your head on his chest, he brought you closer, kissing the back of your neck. “I'm so proud of you. I can't wait for you to get pregnant and start our family. I can't thank you enough for this, love. You have no idea how much I adore you.”
Another kiss. Gods, you were blushing.
“ Thank you, baby, I love you too. I'm just a bit tired, but I'll be okay. Probably won't be able to walk for a while, but at least you're here to pick me up and carry me around.” You felt his chest rumble with a comforting chuckle. “ I'll carry you anytime, baby. ”
After going for two more rounds in the tub, you were both utterly exhausted. He carried you back to bed after brushing and braiding your hair before putting you in one of his comfy, oversized shirts.
“Night night , Azzie, I love you s’much.” You whispered in affection, accompanied by a sweet kiss. Your legs entwined and your head nestled in the gentle curve of his neck. As sleep embraces, he tenderly said , “Sweet dreams, my dear. I love you too. ”
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