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#I WILL BATH IN THIS COLOR LIKE NO TOMORROW
fluttersheep · 2 years
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goodnight
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gladiatorcunt · 4 months
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🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!
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cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited
this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader
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Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.
Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.
“He… he didn’t show up!”
Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”
He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.
You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”
Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.
“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.
“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.
He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.
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Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.
You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”
You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.
You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.
His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”
You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”
He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.
Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”
“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”
It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?
“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”
You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.
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You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.
“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.
It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.
It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.
Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.
You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”
Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.
You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.
You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”
You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.
Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.
Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.
“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”
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You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.
You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.
“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”
You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.
Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.
“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”
You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.
Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.
In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.
“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.
You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.
“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.
As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.
Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.
“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.
“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”
That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.
“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.
“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”
You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.
His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.
(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)
It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.
“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”
There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.
You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.
It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.
“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.
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pedrospatch · 5 months
Text
splash
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33
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Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.
She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.
“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”
He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”
But it had been too late.
Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”
Joel decided to put his foot down.
Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.
“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”
“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.
“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.
He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.
Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.
Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.
Like Rosie does.
Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.
“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”
Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”
“Joel—”
“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.
“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”
He’d found very little consolation in that.
Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.
“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.
“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”
“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”
Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.
“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”
She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”
“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”
She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”
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Groaning, you shove through the front door.
You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.
It would take some getting used to—again.
“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.
There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”
“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”
“How long is a while, El?”
“She invited me to stay for dinner.”
You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”
Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you ask Joel for permission?”
“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”
Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 
“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”
Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”
“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.
There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.
Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.
“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.
“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.
He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”
Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.
“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”
She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 
After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”
“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”
“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”
“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”
“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.
“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”
You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.
He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.
“Joel? What happened to my child?”
“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”
“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”
Rosie beams. “Yeah!”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”
“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.
“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.
Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.
“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 
“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”
About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 
“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 
Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”
“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”
His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”
Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.
“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”
Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”
“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.
He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”
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divider credit to @/saradika 🩵
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbors au Simon Riley/female reader
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The hallway creaks under his feet. 
The floorboards talk to him, tell him stories, narrating the tread worn in the carpet, countless steps tracked up and down, past his door at all hours of the day and night. 
Past yours. 
He notices your light is on when he gets in, warm yellow glow spilling out from your back door, illuminating your hunched figure perched on your little metal chair, glow from an e-reader spilling across your face. A mix of the light from your living room, the shimmer of the moon, and the white, soft incandescence of your book bathes you in a gleam of angelic color, celestial reflection of what he believes may already be half true.
Sweet angel. 
“Up late?” He asks over the balcony divider, and you squint at him, eyes adjusting in the pale darkness. 
“Emma’s been on a weird schedule. Couldn’t go back to sleep after I put her back down an hour ago.” His hands slide into his pockets, a natural reflex, and he nods, the movement expected against the emptiness that greets his fingers. He wants a cigarette. Craves it, but intentionally left them inside. 
He doesn’t think you like it, the smoking. And for some unsettling reason, he cares what you think. 
The monitor crackles alive with the sound of hoarse cry, high pitch and sharp, and you excuse yourself, slipping inside to answer Emmaline’s distraught wails. 
He leans against his side of the railing, mind wandering to his schedule for tomorrow, an on base meeting that’s sure to be irritating, followed by a training evaluation that he’s been putting off for far too long. 
The monitor’s lights flare, picking up noise, and his mind screams to a halt when the speaker starts to vibrate with your voice. 
“Hey, little sweet. Shhh, shhh, I know. You’re such a sleepy girl, aren’t you?” You hum something, a melody of some kind that he can’t place, and Emma makes soft little noises, prompting you to talk to her every time they start to tick upwards into a cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mum’s here. I’m right here.” He stands, transfixed, frozen, listening, eavesdropping, to every little sound, hanging on every word like you're feeding him crumbs of your soft, soothing voice and Emmaline’s sleepy, grumpy coos. 
When you reappear back on the balcony ten minutes later, it’s with the baby against your chest, her chubby little arms and legs tucked into a blanket, wrapped up like burrito, sweet little face peeking over the fleece lining. “Someone,” you rub her back, “is not keen on going back to sleep.” She’s wide eyed, wide awake, and you step closer to his side, his hand automatically going out to rub a thumb against her cheek. 
“What’s wrong, baby girl, not goin’ let mum get any rest tonight?” You smile softly, gaze sweet and gentle when it bounces between his face and hers. 
“Afraid not.” You lean forward, brushing your lips against the crown her head. “She’s pretty unhappy unless she’s being held, lately.” He feels for you, can see how tough it must be, how tired you are, and a fire fueled yearning enflames throughout him, desire and desperation battling against his self-control, his logical mind.
You sigh, swaying slightly with her, trying to rock her into a sleepy state, and he’s content to stay outside with you, watching. Enjoying the way you lean into your instincts, your motherhood, soft edges complemented by sharp ones, your baby safe and slipping into a dream from your arms something that he can’t not marvel at. It doesn’t take long for her to be completely out, and you release a long sigh of relief. 
“Alright, time to try again.” You whisper, and he nods, catching a whiff of your shampoo as you turn to head inside with a whisper, coconut and lavender nearly making him dizzy. “Goodnight, Simon.” 
“Goodnight.”
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landograndprix · 8 months
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ x
part nine - part eleven
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ and while there's a lot of things you still need to work on, this is a great start to the new, beter chapters of your life
➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ I think we needed a lil' cute to calm our tits 🥰 also, absolutely gobsmacked by the love this fic is getting and how involved you all are with it, you guys are seriously the best and I love y'all so much 😘
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y/nusername posted to their story
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milliexoxo replied to your story
milliexoxo
someone's getting laid tonight
guessing you're not coming home tonight 🤪
y/nusername
go back to your coloring book
milliexoxo
wow, okay..I see how it is
no but seriously, are you coming back tonight or are you staying with lando so I can double lock the house lmao
y/nusername
staying in monaco, will be back tomorrow
milliexoxo
nice, I'll see you tomorrow then
have fun and don't do things I wouldn't do 😘
y/nusername
okay mom 😘
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y/nusername
📍 London, United Kingdom
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 539,678 others
y/nusername fifty shades of earl grey. 🇬🇧
tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo
view all 2,001 comments
norry4 cute, lando took them to England 😭
milliexoxo talk british to me
milliexoxo not pictured, y/n losing her mind over a bookshop
↳ y/nusername that wasn't a shop, that was heaven.
milliexoxo okay..nerd
landoscar i agree with y/n, every book shop is heaven
yukisan girl stop bullying your mom, we've warned you before 😭
milliexoxo I'm a rebel, I don't listen to no one
y/nusername big imagination for such a little girl
norrizz god I just know zoë is getting spoiled by stepdad lando 😭
carlandooo Charles crying in a corner rn
↳ charliecharlie I mean that's his own fault lmfao
carlandooo true 💀
bradleyfewtrell please tell me you met max 😂
↳ landomax I just know millie will bully max relentlessly 😂
bradleyfewtrell and I just know y/n would get along with max and pietra so well!
norrizzlandoo lando and zoë 😭😭
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milliexoxo
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like by y/nusername, logansargeant and 2,671 others
milliexoxo your typical tourist on tour.
tagged: landonorris, y/nusername, maxfewtrell
maxwellmax lmfao yes max 💀
landonorris ❤️ I nodnol?
↳ milliexoxo oh my god you're so funny lando!!!!!!!
norry4 took me a second 😂
landonorizzzz he's taking his annoying stepdad duties seriously 😭
landoscar I feel sorry for the people who don't follow millie and miss out on all this
charlieslec did she just casually expose lando and y/n??
↳ norry4 are you new here? 😂
maxfewtrell but why?
↳ milliexoxo because I can 🥰
yukisan are we all just going to ignore the fact that Logan Sargeant is hiding in the likes? Yes? Cool 😭
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y/nusername
📍 Miami, FL
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liked by riabish, landonorris and 609,578 others
y/nusername week 6. 🇺🇸
tagged: landonorris
view all 1,922 comments
landonorizzzz aw lando finally made it to the feed normally instead of the soft launch bullshit 😇
charlesgirlies zoë 🥺😭
milliexoxo look at my girlfriend living her best life, floating around ❤️
norry4 are we official? Hellooo can I finally fully unleash thr landoy/n shipper in me?! 🥺
yourmumsuser my little zoë 🤩🤩
chilisainz zoe being the unbothered queen that she is
landonorris my girls ❤️
↳ landoscar SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UUUUUUUP 😭
yesrislando brb going to take a bath with my toaster
maxmaxmax man's really pulled a max and stole another driver's girl and child 💀
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew
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leclerc-hs · 11 months
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a blind date?? - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You have a blind date and let’s just say your best friend Charles does not approve of it… Warnings: some french words (from a non-french speaker lmao), angst??, slight smut (im not good writing it). P.S. I am not a writer but I felt the need to write this. It’s just for fun!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
IN THE HEART of the bustling city, the neon lights of the current nightclub you stood in was bathed in vivid colors. Stood was maybe the wrong way to describe it. More like slouched. You were at the point of being one drink away from being more than tipsy. Just one more drink and you would’ve been incoherent. A thumping bassline filled the air as friends and strangers, drunk off overpriced alcohol, danced all around with and near one another.
“Drink this Ma Belle,” A drink was placed in your hand as a heavy arm was placed over your shoulders. You glanced down at the drink in your hand. A water. A smile spread across your lips as you looked up at a grinning Charles.
Ma Belle. Your heart squeezed momentarily. Throughout all the girlfriends, that name was reserved for you. And you only. 
You and Charles have been the best of friends since he first stole the last red ice pop from you in grade school. He just had to have the red one. Although it wasn’t the best of introductions, he made it up to you by bringing you an ice pop the next day. Since then, it was an unbreakable bond. 
“What would I do without you,” you exclaimed with a small laugh before bringing the water to your lips and taking a big gulp with a sigh of relief. 
He squeezed your shoulder softly before removing his arm and returning it to his side. You felt the heat of his body leave yours. “Are you ready to go?”
It wasn’t an abnormal question. You and Charles usually left the club together. Being attached at the hip and all that. With a small nod, you said your goodbyes to everyone before heading out of the nightclub and getting a taxi to Charles place.
It wasn’t long until you stood at the sink in Charles bathroom brushing your teeth in one of his t-shirts. You could hear Charles had turned the TV on, quickly selecting to re-watch episodes of La Casa de Papel. 
“Maman wanted me to ask if you are coming for dinner tomorrow,” He squeezed into the bathroom beside you, leaning over to grab his toothbrush. Without a shirt, as per usual. It was a sight for sore eyes indeed and although you were more than used to it, your eyes couldn’t help but linger on his toned body. 
Spitting the toothpaste into the sink with the running water, “I actually can’t make it.” You slightly hesitated in your response. It’s not that you didn’t want to. You loved nothing more than seeing Pascale. She was like a second mother to you.
He was in the process of wetting the toothbrush before placing it in his mouth when you slipped out the words.
 “I actually have a date tomorrow night.” 
It had been a while since you’ve been on a date. Never finding the time between work and tagging along with Charles to many of his Grand Prix. You never quite found dating important enough or worth the time. 
Charles was amidst placing the toothbrush in his mouth when he froze at the words. Literally froze. His eyebrows slightly furrowed as he brought the toothbrush back down to the countertop at the sink.
“A date?” His tone was sharp. You noticed his eye color seeming a bit darker than the usual bright green. “I was not aware that you were trying to date.” He added. 
You didn’t know if your mind was making it up or not. His attitude seemed to change for the worst at the mere mention of a date. Though, there was a slight tug on your heart at the idea of him being jealous. Because let’s be real for a second, the concept of you and Charles dating has crossed your mind once or twice. Okay, more than once or twice. But it was a boundary you weren’t sure you wanted to cross.
You nodded before bending over the sink again to rinse your mouth one last time and placing your toothbrush back on the counter. You tried to be nonchalant.
Charles picked up his toothbrush again and began brushing in silence. It seemed as if he was brushing his teeth rather harsher than normal as you explained yourself further. 
“Kika, she set me up on a blind date. His name is Alex.” 
“So, you’ve never met him?” He finished brushing his teeth and finally stood tall to look you in the eyes.
“No,” you laughed. “Are you even listening? It’s called a blind date for a reason.”
Although you were laughing, Charles was a stark contrast to your laughter and smiles. “I don’t like the idea of this.” He pressed further. “He’s a stranger. It’s too dangerous.”
You rolled your eyes at his over protection. “Cha, I will be okay. He’s a mutual of Kika’s. Not a stranger.” You placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t been on a date in forever.”
“Ma Belle, you’re not going on a date with this boy.” His voice was stern as he cornered you between him and the bathroom countertop. “Cancel it.”
“I don’t remember asking for your permission dad,” you poked his ribs trying to make a joke of his brooding self.
“Putain! Are you not listening to me?” He groaned in annoyance. Literally groaned. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up more than it already was. He dropped both of his hands onto your waist. “How are you this blind Ma Belle? Don’t you see it? You’re mine.” 
You felt your cheeks turn red at the phrase. “Cha, it would be too messy. I don’t think-”
“No.” He cut you off. “No more excuses. I am sick of this pretending we do.” 
He starts shaking his head, "Talking about a date with another boy. While you stand in my bathroom. In my clothes." His fingers gripped your waist tighter.
Boy. He said it with disgust. He was angry to say the least. Angry that you would even consider dating somebody else. Angry that you refuse to acknowledge your true feelings. Angry that it has taken you guys this long for the truth to finally come out.
Your breath hitched slightly as you stared into his eyes. You understood. You considered Charles yours too. 
It was only a matter of seconds before your lips properly crashed into one another. It was all teeth and tongue clashing. Messy but so hot. He’s smiling into the kiss. You’re grasping onto any part of him that you can touch.
He pushes you up against the counter and pulls away from the kiss momentarily. Just to slip his fingers in your mouth which you gladly wrap your tongue around. His hands almost instantly sliding into the waistband of the boxers that you borrowed and slipped on earlier before sinking a finger into your heated core.
“See Ma Belle?” You’re shaking and aching for more. Show me, he’s saying. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, he’s saying.  Mine, he’s saying. He places wet, hot kisses across your jaw and down to your neck. You’re desperate. Whimpering his name over and over before you crack and release all over his hand.
You’re both breathing loudly. His head his burrowed into the swell between your neck and shoulder. Both of your chests rising and falling in sync.
You and Charles. Always in sync with each other.
He stands a little straighter to look you in the eyes with a smile on his face. His eyes are crinkled from how hard he’s smiling. You can’t help but mirror his smile. You feel warm and bubbly inside.
He places a kiss to your forehead, “Cancel the date.”
You only respond by grabbing the back of his neck to bring his lips back to yours. Consider the date cancelled. 
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mystellenia · 7 months
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romantic tension with abby
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summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same
content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else
notes: wrote a part two :p i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz
(wc 0.7k)
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the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop. 
this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen. 
you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip. 
she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?" 
you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should." 
she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job. 
scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed. 
she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you. 
"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone." 
"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you. 
"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes. 
you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact. 
"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes. 
"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want." 
in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you. 
the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes." 
you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.  
you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too. 
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@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek
yayyy i’m back :3
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
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jemjams02 · 5 months
Note
Could you write Solomon and Diavolo dating headcannons, both nsfw and sfw?
Also, have a good day!
-anon 🪼
I got u anon <3
Diavolo
Dia is a very cliché lover, I'm talking pulling out all the stops from the worst romance movies
The first time you stayed the night at the palace with him as his lover, the room was filled with as many rose petals as he could find, candles too! He had several things prepared for your stay as well! There was a gift basket in the bathroom with shower/bathroom items with your name on them, as well as your favorite products. There was even a brand-new toothbrush on the vanity next to his! Needless to say, he's over the moon about you.
PAMPERS you!!!
he uses his status to get you anything you ask for! You could ask him for the heart of King Tut, and he'd figure out how to get it for you
you're certainly one of the only people in the entire Devildom that will even consider asking the Demon Prince for a piggyback ride, and he will do it no questions asked! He loves using his demonic strength to carry you, even if you really only ask when you're tired
he's very proud to be your partner, he would shout it from the balcony every morning if he could
doesn't let anyone speak ill of you, he has eyes and ears everywhere, and if someone dares use your name negatively, they will often disappear. You usually don't even know you're being talked about.
Unfortunately, his status also gets in the way of many things, he's often very busy with royal demon matters, but once your relationship has become public knowledge, he doesn't mind having you at his side during meetings! He'll also gladly have you seated nicely on his lap while he does his daily paperwork, reveling in your company
Dia's a very lonely demon, so he's quite clingy, asking to spend any and all free time he may have with you! Although, he also asks you to keep him company when he doesn't have free time, which he'll understand if you're not up to it that day
NSFW
Diavolo, surprisingly, has very little experience. Often times, no one dares to flirt with him, and when they do he has to consider their motives. That being said, he is also absolutely shameless about asking for advice from the brothers (probably Asmodeus)
Your first time with him was straight out of a romance novel, he pulled out all the stops from mood lighting to incense; he even made a playlist after searching "best songs to have sex to"
He's a large demon, so he takes his time with you, starting with kisses. Lots of kisses; and the moment you find yourself unable to stifle a giggle, he sinks his teeth into your skin.
Possessive, and will mark you up like no tomorrow, be prepared to walk around with very visible hickeys
Likes lingerie, and has bought a couple of lovely sets, mostly consisting of a deep red color. However he finds himself unable to resist those teeny sleep shorts and tank top you have in your pajama roster; especially if you have nothing on underneath
Has you cum on his fingers several times before even attempting to fuck you. Enough that you're often exhausted by the time he deems you prepared enough
The first time he sank into you, his demon form came out, it felt so good. He also just likes fucking in his demon form, and can certainly tell you do as well.
Sex with Dia lasts hours, usually just short of you passing out, so aftercare is a huge part of the evening! He carries you to the bath, and everything smells like lavender. He's very gentle as he cleans you off with a warm washcloth, and you're often lulled to sleep by the warmth and comfort
Solomon
He likes to annoy you, but in the cute boyfriend way. Like randomly dabbing you up
Casual dates galore! He needs to go grocery shopping? Why don't you come with him! Wanna go to the bookstore? Oh? You're craving Akudonald's? He'll go! He's not one for anything super fancy, although he will take you somewhere nice every once in a while
Very attentive and giving, but like you think he's not paying attention, and he actually is. That book series from the human world you'd been keeping up with? He hands you the newest volume one day! That bracelet you considered at a sop the other day? It's on your wrist the next week. You're struggling with a class? Oh look, a detailed study guide for the whole year.
Not one to really initiate PDA past handholding, but isn't opposed to it! If you wanna make out at this café right now, feel fucking free baby
Bad texter. He often gets so engrossed in his work/experiments that his phone goes ignored for hours
Consistently tries to cook for you (you never let him in the kitchen)
He's not very clingy, and can go at least a day without seeing you, but he likes your company, and wants to make sure you know you're loved! When he's off doing something far away, he'll call you every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he sleeps. If somehow you're unable to answer due to time zones, he'll leave heartfelt voicemails for you to wake up to
Definitely uses your proximity to Lucifer to try and make a pact with him. It's worth a try, but ultimately gets him nowhere.
NSFW
Being a human in a land of demons can make a man feel...insecure to say the least, but what he lacks in demonic traits, he makes up for with magic. It's hard to go a night with him without a little sorcery; perhaps he whispers an incantation that will heighten your sensitivity before he assaults your senses with him. His voice, his hands, his scent; they all envelop you until the only thing running through your head is his name
His stamina isn't like a demon's but it's better than the average human's so he's often tired when you are, and is more than happy to just fall asleep and clean up later, unless you insist upon washing up right away (he may protest a little, but he always relents)
A little more blunt about what he wants than some others. Outright asking to fuck during makeouts is a frequent occurrence.
Enjoys cockwarming, it's relaxing. Plus, he gets to tease you to no end, which he also very much enjoys
Speaking of teasing, it's endless. He particularly likes edging you, feigning pity when you start begging to cum before giving you what you want; over and over again.
Needs a breather after he cums, his heart is pumping in his ears, just give him a second and he'll be fine :)
69
Wants to fuck your throat
Into choking, both getting choked and choking you
Doesn't mind letting you take the lead
622 notes · View notes
luvt0kki · 9 months
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003 | on this ship
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Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
🎧 : NFWMB - Hozier
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previous | 003 | next
pairings: ot8 x reader ( yungi x reader)
w.c : 7.5k ( this one’s long)
cw: mature, lots of world building in this chapter I’m sorry,minors do not interact, nsfw, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn ( for Wooyoung), polyamory, smut ahead , dom!Mingi and Yunho for this chapter, threesome, bath/shower seggs, oral, size kink, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, Wooyoung blue balls again, Yeosang is very sweet here, some humor ahead, San is a cutie as always, hongjoong is unreadable as ever, Wooyoung thinks he’s connected the dots but he hasnt connected sht
REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.
a/n : thank you so much for all the support! Here is part 3! There’s uhhhh smut…but then a lot of world building and interactions between the crew that will kind of show just how close they are with y/n. It’s a bit long 😭 I’m sorry but hehe chapter 4 is already in the works! Don’t forget to fangirl and scream in my askbox about what you think of this Chapter 💕
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The warm water embraced you in much-needed comfort and it took away the fatigue you felt. Your mind was still hazy and you just stared at the rippling surface, the bubbles foaming up in white pearlescent colors. The smell of sweet watermelon and coconut filled your senses and you moaned when the fingers massaging your scalp found the pressure points that made you melt forward, leaning your torso onto your thighs.
“If you keep moaning like that, I’ll get hard again.” Mingi’s deep voice echoed in the bathroom, the big man sat across you, massaging your calves under the water while Yunho’s fingers continued to shampoo your hair and massage your scalp.
“Mingi, if we go again, I won’t be able to walk for two days,” you pouted, feeling the soapy foam of the shampoo run down your back.
“And that’s a bad thing, how?” He raised a groomed brow.
You looked at him. His pink hair was a deeper shade of the color and it was pointing in different directions while also flat on his head from being wet. He still looked so handsome and his eyes were doing that thing, the thing where they were soft and round, almost childlike. “I have things to do, Mingi. I can’t be bedridden all because of your libido.”
“Baby, it would help me if we fucked more. It was torture to be away from you for so long. The videos and pictures, as much as I love them, can’t compare to the real thing.”
“And how is fucking more helping your libido?”
“It might return to baseline. Normal Mingi libido.”
He had said that with such a serious face, it was kind of cute. Okay, it was cute. Dumb but cute.
“You said ‘might’. You’re not even sure!” You splashed some water onto his face, Yunho’s fingers now massaging your lower scalp close to the pressure points of your neck. “Oh.”
“Then we have to find out!” Mingi turned his head to the side, avoiding your cute yet innocent expression from the way you moaned and relaxed from Yunho’s touch.
“I can’t believe you referred to your sex drive as Mingi libido.” Yunho chuckled from behind you and finished shampooing and rinsing your hair. “You sore, sweetheart?” He kissed the nape of your neck.
“Not as much as I thought,” you leaned your head back, perfectly fitting on Yunho’s shoulder. “But if I go another two rounds with Mingi, I might not be able to walk tomorrow. And, if I go one more time with both of you, you two are the ones who are going to have to tell Hongjoong why I refuse to go to the upper deck.”
Yunho wrapped his arms around and kissed your temple.
Mingi relaxed and smiled softly at the sight. You were back home, where you belong. Where you were safest. Nothing and no one could hurt you here, and if anyone ever tried ( not that anyone could), they wouldn’t leave alive.
Yunho pressed his lips close to your ear to whisper. “So…we can go again?”
“Oh my god.”
“You did say you can go one more time with me and Yunho,” Mingi smirked, scooting closer.
It’s actually amazing how two of the tallest of your lovers could fit in the tub with you. Sure the bathtub was big but to fit the three of you? Jongho wouldn’t believe it if you told him.
“But we’ll have to bathe again…” you huffed, Yunho leaving hot kisses along your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive spot. It was hard to say no. “Your bed will get really wet if we go back right now.” You whined, Yunho’s pretty slender fingers cupping your breasts and pinching at your nipples.
“We don’t have to go back to my room.” Mingi settled himself between your legs, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and kissing your inner thigh. “We can fuck here.”
“I thought we finally crossed off shower sex on your bucket list?” You threaded your fingers through Yunho’s hair as he continued to kiss and fondle you.
“Trust me, baby, I know,” Mingi replied, reaching for the nozzle to drain the tub.
“It’s on my bucket list.” Yunho nipped at your ear. “Mingi, put her other leg over the edge of the tub.”
Mingi does as he says and he bit his lip at the sight of your pussy again. His cock twitched when Yunho’s right hand left your breast to slide down to massage your clit.
“Yunho…” you sighed, hips twitching at the feeling, not sure if you were moving away from his touch or if you wanted more.
The lower the water got, the more you could see of Mingi. The bubbles and foam stuck to your skin and when the cool air began to hit your skin that had been submerged in warm water, you shivered.
“We’ll be gentle,” Yunho told you, biting your neck. “But usually you’ll always beg for us to go harder.” He teased, dipping two fingers into your entrance, not plunging further which made you whine as he spread your slick all over your folds.
“And I thought you were being so sweet shampooing my hair and all. You’re just as mean.” You bit back, your resolve crumbling when he finally slipped his fingers into your sore yet welcoming, velvety walls. “F-fuck. Okay.”
“Okay, what?” Mingi watched Yunho’s fingers slip in and out of your heat.
“We go another round but please let’s go to my room. The bathtub isn’t really the most comfortable place for the three of us.” You said through gritted teeth, squeezing Yunho’s thighs as he curled his fingers inside you. “And last time we fucked here, Mingi, you slipped and bruised your elbow.”
“Baby, that’s between us.” He groaned, keeping your legs from closing watching your cunt suck Yunho’s fingers in and soak them in your slick.
“I had a feeling it wasn’t because you elbowed someone.” Yunho tutted before focusing on the movements of his fingers, humming when he felt your walls squeeze him. “Even after taking Mingi and I, you’re still so tight.”
“Yuyu…” you whimpered the nickname you endearingly called him, tugging at his hair as you bucked your hips into his palm.
“Always so wet and ready for us, aren’t you?” He curled his fingers faster, his long digits reaching you deeper than your fingers could ever do. His palm made contact with your clit as he moved which made your nails dig into his thighs.
“She’s our pretty girl.” Mingi cooed, scooting closer and keeping your legs apart then lifted you a little so you were on his lap and squeezed between him and Yunho without disrupting his best friend’s actions. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you are?”
You could but you didn’t have time to be embarrassed about it when Mingi took one of your breasts into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peak and sucking which earned him a very cute squeak from you.
“Yeah…we’re not going to make it to the bedroom, sweetheart,” Yunho growled in your ear, not slowing down the pumping of his fingers and knowing that you were gonna cum soon. They knew your body well and they pride themselves in being lovers that never disappointed you. “Once, I make you cum. Mingi’s gonna clean up the sweet mess you made…” His lower register made you squeeze around his fingers again, knowing full well the effect that tone had on you. “Then I’m gonna fuck your perfect cunt.”
You felt your lower abs tighten and your legs began to tense, shaking around Mingi’s torso who suckled and massaged your breasts. Your legs wanted to close so badly as your orgasm was approaching fast and it didn’t help that Yunho was whispering filthy things in your ear in that stupid perfect deep register of his.
“Yunho…please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Please.”
“This time, sweetheart…,” He paused a beat to kiss the spot beneath your ear before continuing. “I won’t cum on your pretty tits. I’ll fill you up nice and good like Mingi did.”
The idea had you cumming hard, your lips parting in a silent scream as your walls spasmed around his fingers.
“Good girl.” He cooed, kissing your temple as your body shook from the pleasure, slowing down his fingers and taking them out of your pulsing heat, only to to bring his digits to his mouth to have a taste of your sweet essence.
Without another word, Mingi halted his attack on your breasts and Yunho hooked his hands beneath your knees to open you up for the pink-haired man. He dipped low and you cried out when he started to kitten lick your sensitive pussy.
“Mingi! Too much! W-wait, please.” You whimpered, trying to fight against Yunho’s hold who kept your legs wide open so Mingi could lap up your juices.
“Tastes so good, baby.” He moaned against your core, the obscene slurping making heat explode in your cheeks. He was licking you up with that stupidly heavenly tongue of his like a man starved.
Mingi kissed your clit before wrapping his plump lips around the sensitive bud and making you squirm.
“Hear that? Mingi said you taste so good.” Yunho unlike Mingi right now, who was drunk on your pussy, was gentle and sweet again.The two of them balanced each other out in ways you could never really explain.
Knowing he won’t ever get enough of you, Mingi lapped your juices up one last time before sitting up and adoring the way you looked so fucked out. Yunho hadn’t even stuffed you with his cock yet and you were this buzzed out already.
“Here, baby.”
“Huh?” You blinked at him and before you could react, his lips were on yours and your surprised gasp let him slip his tongue inside.
“Mmhf.” Your head was spinning. The salty yet sweet taste of yourself on his tongue was sinfully erotic and his eagerness to kiss you made you kiss him back. Mingi sucked on your bottom lip before parting from you, his forehead resting on yours as you two caught your breaths.
“So?” Yunho slowly let your legs down, letting in fall limp around Mingi’s body. “How do you taste?”
“G-good.” You panted, releasing your death grip on Yunho’s thighs, the way your nails dug into them left crescent marks on his skin.
“Awe, is our pretty girl tired? Too tired to take my cock?”
“N-no.” Your body felt light and heavy at the same time but even after cumming around his fingers and Mingi overstimulating you. Your walls craved for more. It needed more than just his fingers. “Want you. Please.”
With Yunho, you never ever had to ask twice.
And…he was right earlier. The three of you couldn’t make it to the bedroom. So here you all were, way past the midnight hour with you sandwiched between the two men, their hips moving in tandem with one another as they stuffed you full. Your arms hung loosely over Yunho’s shoulders as Mingi’s big strong arms hoisted you up. Yunho was rutting up into your leaking cunt, his lengthy cock hitting your g-spot easily while Mingi fucked your other tight hole, the gunner praising you for taking his fat cock after he had prepped you for him.
There was nothing coherent in your head. All you could think about was how their cocks were rubbing your insides and how good they felt inside of you. It was so much.
“S-so full.” You moaned, head falling back onto Mingi’s shoulder as they bounced you on their cocks, the wet smacking sounds echoing in the shared shower room.
“You’re taking us so well, sweetheart.” Yunho praised, groaning when your walls began to grip him tighter and feeling Mingi’s thick cock fill you up on the other end. “I’m close. Fuck.”
“Y-yeah. Me too.” Mingi whined from behind you, his strong hips smacking against your ass. “Let Yunho fill you up, baby. I want you so full of his cum you’re leaking for days.”
Mingi’s words turned Yunho on even more, making him chase his release, his hips digging deeper into you.
“P-please, please, please.” That’s all you could say as your body buzzed and craved for them as if you could never be satiated. You felt like you were going insane with how good they felt inside of you.
Their thrusts in perfect rhythm with each other and how perfectly shaped Yunho’s cock was to hit your g-spot effortlessly, had you coming undone so easily. You came hard, mind going completely blank as your orgasm crashed over you. Every fiber of your being was electrified and when you came to it, you could feel that soothing familiar warmth filling your belly.
The two men panted as they finished inside your body that welcomed them. Months of pent-up sexual frustration finally being satiated and emptied inside of you.
“I missed you, sweetheart.” Yunho sighed into your neck, completely emptying every last drop of his release into you, marking you in his own way. “We all did. I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself.”
“I-it’s okay.” You murmured, limp in Mingi’s and Yunho’s hold. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you all for so long.”
You winced when Mingi slowly slipped his cock from your ass, his cum leaking out your abused hole and when Yunho did the same, a mess of white fell onto the bathroom floor but Yunho was quick to carry you bridal style before your limbs could touch the floor.
“You two…I swear…” you murmured, letting the two take care of you just like clockwork. Like all the times before.
They were gentle as they cleaned you up, this time under the rain of water from one of the shower stalls. Mingi helped wrap you into a fuzzy soft grey towel before Yunho handed you over to him so he could dry himself before they retreated to your bedroom since Mingi’s bed was sheetless after the mess the three of you made.
“So…” Yunho was the first to speak when you three were snuggled under the comforter of your bed, the two of them on either side of you to keep you warm. “Is it back to baseline?”
You frowned, blinking sleepily at his handsome face while Mingi cuddled you from behind.
“Yeah…normal Mingi libido.”
Not having the energy to retort, you only shook your head and smiled. You were tired but you were happy and safe in their arms. Yunho’s hand on your hip lazily caressed you while Mingi had his arm draped over your waist and he pressed his naked torso on your back, preferring your body warmth over anything else to keep him warm and fall asleep to.
“Hongjoong is going to kill us,” Mingi muttered, his own eyes unable to remain open any longer.
“Kill us? No.” Yunho yawned, noticing how you had fallen asleep already with such a peaceful look on your pretty face. “But he’ll definitely give us an earful…or a sex ban.”
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The docks at the outskirts of Xileon were quiet as dawn began to break. It was almost unbelievable that the planet with its infamous capital called the Night City actually experienced daylight. The parties have to end somehow and they go back to their day lives only to repeat and indulge in what they could only do in the dark, and in Night City, no night was ever the same.
And yet as the sun rose and began to light up the black sky, hints of dark navy and light blue faded in as the morning came and Wooyoung admired the view from the window of the dining kitchen area of the mid-deck. The scent of coffee that he had begun to brew right after he woke wafted through the air. It’s been a while since he’s seen a morning sky.
Xileon’s sky could not compare to Jupiter’s. It was prettier and glowed with the aurora that floated in the dark starry sky every night.
“You’re up early.” Seonghwa entered the kitchen, and his black silk robe that matched his loungewear flowed elegantly with his movements.
“Well, someone’s got to cook for you all.” Wooyoung shrugged moving from the dining area with the big window that looked out the sky to the kitchen. “I’m never letting Yunho in my kitchen again.”
“He made a delicious dinner that time.” Seonghwa chuckled, defending the tall mechanic and medic of their crew.
“But the mess he left?” Wooyoung shook his head, opening the fridge and grabbing the ingredients he might need to start breakfast. “It’s like a hurricane destroyed the place. Anyways, what does Y/N like to have for breakfast?”
Seonghwa paused pouring himself a cup of coffee momentarily, not expecting that question from Wooyoung this morning. His lips curved into a small pleased smile.
“She likes sweet things. French toast with berries if we have them or pancakes. She’s not a picky eater but those are just some of her favorites.”
Wooyoung bit his lip as he went through the cupboards and the pantry.
“So what are we having for breakfast?” Seonghwa asked, taking his seat at the dining table by the window, appreciating the view.
Tossing the bag of flour onto the kitchen counter, Wooyoung grabbed a bowl from the cupboards before going to the fridge and deciding that the frozen berries would make do.
“Pancakes.”
Seonghwa smiled at his response, not needing to say anything more and letting the former heir of a duke to his work while he sipped his coffee and enjoyed the calm morning and the view of the rising sun.
“I smell coffee.” The cheery voice announced the very familiar sunshine like presence.
“Just pour yourself a cup and don’t touch anything.” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes in jest at Yunho who walked in with a bounce in his step.
“Hey, I made a mess one time.”
“And it will be the last time.”
Yunho only smiled and got himself coffee before joining Seonghwa at the unset table. Wooyoung focused on cooking and as the sun rose higher and higher, the members were arriving in the dining area one by one.
Jongho entered with Hongjoong, the two talking about something in the magazine their youngest was holding. Probably another thing Jongho added to his wishlist for upgrades to the ship.
Yeosang helped set the table before joining the lighthearted conversation with the others.
Mingi was the last to enter groaning about how bright the sunlight was as he was slipping a black shirt over his torso.
“Y/N?” San asked, quietly taking note of the reddish love bites on Mingi’s neck and before the gunner’s shirt covered his body, they all got a glimpse of the long pink lines on his back.
“I didn’t want to wake her so I’ll get her breakfast and go back.” He went to the fridge and gulped down some milk from the carton.
“Use a glass, you heathen.” Wooyoung clicked his tongue and focused on serving up the pancakes on a big plate.
“Oh, you made pancakes. Nice timing. She loves those.” Mingi’s eyes stared at the fresh from the pan confectionary and took his and your plates to get a serving for you both. “Where’s the tray?” He rummaged through the kitchen, a vein popping on Wooyoung’s forehead at the clang and clatter of items in HIS kitchen.
“Get her some orange juice for the vitamin C,” Yunho told Mingi, opening the Xileon newspaper.
“Got it.” Mingi did as he said, getting a glass and pouring the orange juice in it.
Wooyoung was glad he and the pink haired man were not making eye contact, and that there was no weird vibe from Mingi’s end. He must admit, Mingi was a caring boyfriend if he was going out of his way to bring you breakfast in bed. Breakfast that he made.
“We’ll be departing Xileon by noon so if any of you need to get things, get it done before then,” Hongjoong informed the crew. “And get back to Yeosang so he can take note of the expenses.”
Mingi was focused as he crossed the dining area with the tray in his hands, steadying his hands.
“Relay the info to Y/N,” Hongjoong added.
“Mhm.” Mingi hummed in response.
“Oh, and Mingi…”
“Yeah?”
Hongjoong without looking at Mingi and opening the book he has been reading the past month, and sounding like a father scolding his son, spoke.
“Make sure to close the door next time.”
Mingi groaned as the rest of the crew cackled and laughed at his embarrassment, and he quickly vacated the room. He wasn’t going to let their teasing ruin his very good morning.
Wooyoung sat with the rest once the big plate of pancakes for everyone with the side of maple syrup and frozen berries were on the table, ready to be eaten. He sat in front of Yunho who had his ever-present soft puppy smile on his face, which was very deceiving.
“I finished up the repairs on Mingi’s gun last night by the way,” Yunho told him, dousing the pancakes on his plate with a lot of maple syrup. “It still is a mystery to me how whatever weapons he borrows or uses come back broken or in need of repairs.”
“He’s a big guy and a clumsy person,” Yeosang commented.
“But he never misses his shots though.” San added.
Wooyoung tuned them out as he thought about how so far, everything was okay. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be when he saw Mingi and maybe if he avoided you, his infatuation will fade away. It won’t be forever but just until he doesn’t think about burying his face in your pussy or having you bounce on his cock—
“You okay?” Yeosang asked when they doing the dishes together in the kitchen, the rest of the crew going off to do their individual schedules.
“Um, why wouldn’t I be?” Woo replied, washing and soaping the dishes while Yeosang rinsed and dried them.
“Should I point out the obvious?”
Yeosang was met with silence and he decided to go on.
“You’re kind of snappy but not too snappy. You’re nice enough because you just made pancakes out of the blue when I was sure you were going to make the usual eggs and bacon.” He was speaking his facts fast, something he got from Wooyoung who did the same when he wanted to prove his point. “Someone probably told you that Y/N likes sweet things which I’m guessing was Seonghwa since after you, he’s the second to wake up early among us. You made the pancakes for—“
“Ah! Okay, stop! I should’ve never taken you under my wing. It’s biting me back in the ass.” He scrubbed the plates with the sponge harder. “What’s your point anyways?”
Yeosang observed his best friend. His ears were slightly red although he had an annoyed pout on his face. He wondered how safe he needed to play it …
“You’re trying to impress her.”
“I made her one of her favorite dishes. I do that for you guys from time to time too…” Wooyoung trailed off, trying to stop himself from confiding with his childhood best friend. Which was hard. Back then, they told each other everything and when they reunited, it’s like nothing changed. “Maybe…I am trying to impress her. She is a member of our crew, is she not? I’m new.”
He opened up to Yeosang who smiled triumphantly to himself.
“Plus, I didn’t really make a good impression on her…when I danced with her, we got really…uh yeah…and when I didn’t know you guys knew her, I was whipping out bill after bill in that room.” Then the image of you tugging that purple lace panties to the side flashed before his eyes again.
“So you feel bad for playing into Y/N’s stripper cover? We played along because we couldn’t compromise her and risk putting her in danger. You’re not at any fault, Woo.“
He did have a point but speaking of faults, Wooyoung did have one and he didn’t want Yeosang to know that he saw you and Mingi then proceeded to jack off in his room to the sound of you both.
“I guess.”
“And if you’re a little attracted to her it’s fine,” Yeosang added which made his friend’s eyes widen.
“W-what?”
“We all are. She’s an attractive woman and when you get to know her, you’ll see that she’s lovely and sweet. She cares for all of us and she will care for you too, if you’ll let her.”
Yeosang hoped that that was enough to hint at the relationship they all had with you and that Wooyoung’s brain could put two and two together.
“Can I ask you something about her?” Wooyoung asked, handing Yeosang the last rinsed dish.
“Shoot.”
“San…” Wooyoung began, unsure of how to tread the subject. He wasn’t sure if he was analyzing it too much and what he assumed could be completely wrong. “San and Y/N knew each other before she joined the crew—
“If you want to ask about their past, I think it’s better you ask her or Sannie…or both. It’s their story to tell not mine.” Yeosang cut him off with a gentle smile, something that was natural to him despite having been a Prince.
“I was meaning to ask San about that but what I’m asking you is different.” He wiped his hands on his navy apron before taking it off and folding it neatly.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I just couldn’t help but notice the way San looks at her.” Actually all of them but it was San or the Captain’s gaze towards you that really stood out to him.
“Like she’s the universe?” Yeosang tilted his head to the side.
“Like…he’s in love with her.”
Yeosang thought of how to respond to that and his pause did not go unnoticed by Wooyoung so when his best friend finally reacted to what he said, he knew that his little speculation hit a spot.
“Ah…” Yeosang trailed off awkwardly, his eyes shifting away and anywhere from him.
He knew what that meant. Yeosang was never good at hiding secrets or denying things because after knowing him since they were children, he knew that little action his eyes did when he was meant to hide something.
“So he is in love with her?” Wooyoung pressed as they headed to the lounge together.
“They’re very close friends.” Yeosang rubbed the back of his neck. It really wasn’t his place to tell.
But his evading of questions only caused Wooyoung to create conspiracy theories that were far yet close to the truth.
“Oh, hey, guys!”
Speak of the devil.
San with his dark cropped hair and oversized black fluffy sweater jogged towards them. “You guys wanna come with me when I head out? I just came back from Y/N’s room and she asked me to get some stuff for her.”
“Uh…” Yeosang wasn’t sure if that was a good day but then he felt Wooyoung’s hands on his shoulders.
“Sure! The more the merrier right?” Wooyoung grinned at the former assassin.
But even though they did head out and got what each of them needed, Wooyoung did not get the answers he expected to get from San. He got nothing. Nada. Zilch. It didn’t help that Yeosang just smiled at him whenever he questioned San’s behavior which was cheerful. He had a swing in his step as they shopped and when he saw something, be it candy or apparel and accessories you might like, he’d turn to Yeosang and say ‘This would be pretty on Y/N’ or ‘Y/N likes this color’.
So as days passed and they safely departed Xileon, Wooyoung concluded that San was in love with you and that he didn’t act on it and disguised his love with the long friendship you guys had as merely platonic.
Wooyoung patted himself on the back for connecting the dots.
Every longing stare he gave you made him pity San. Even though you smiled back at him with such warmth, Wooyoung concluded with such surety that his one-sided love must hurt him deeply but he settled for being on the sidelines. To love you from afar while Mingi loved you and made you smile.
Yeah. Wooyoung was 100 percent sure this was the tension he was feeling from both of you. Now, next on his suspect list was Hongjoong.
“So pieces of the Cromer have been scattered across the galaxy, I’ve managed to find one but the others may have already fallen in the hands of other travelers or the Black Market,” you spoke from where you stood next to Yunho, tapping on the hologram of information and images you uploaded to the Destiny’s server. You swiped away the bracket of Jupiter, canceling it out from where the other pieces could be. “Luckily, I found three of the four possible locations.”
“Three?” Seonghwa’s jaw dropped a little, the shock in his eyes hardening to concern. It was too good to be true…and what did you go through to get all this info?
“That’s my girl.” Hongjoong grinned, the information you were briefing them with made him swell with pride.
Wooyoung glanced at Mingi for his reaction when the Captain called you his…but the gunner was completely focused on your presentation.
“It’s kinda scary how you were able to get all this.” Jongho shook his head quickly, taken aback by your ability to gather information that would’ve taken them years to find.
“Find the right lead and it’ll lead you to more.” You responded with a small smile.
“No hope for the fourth location?” Hongjoong urged you to continue.
“That’s what’s tricky…since the entire civilization of that location is artificial and they don’t orbit a system…”
“Don’t tell me—,” Jongho’s cute round eyes widened further.
“It’s in KWANGYA, most likely N-City.” You enlarged the holographic image of the artificial never stagnant artificial planet. “It’s hard to pinpoint where they might be right now in the galaxy…So I think it’s best we focus on the other locations.”
They were left speechless. This was crucial information to their Captain but while they were shocked and processing what you gathered, Hongjoong’s grin never left his face. It was rather unsettling that expression of his.
“Ondion, Gevora and…Sector 1.” You listed them down and Yeosang moved from where he stood to stand next to you so that he could toggle the map and begin calculations to the next destination.
“What would it be doing in Sector 1?” San frowned deeply.
“I don’t know…but I’m not looking forward to going there.” You fiddled with your fingers behind you, hiding the extent of your distaste for the planet.
“You won’t have to come off the ship when we get there’,” Hongjoong interjected. “I know it may be hard for you but you can stay here with San while the rest of us look for the missing piece:”
“N-no I’ll be fine. Do you really think I’ll let you all on that planet without me? It’s dangerous. There’s a reason it doesn’t have a proper name.”
“What’s Sector 1?” Wooyoung asked. He’s never ever heard of that place but it clearly hit a nerve with you.
“One of the layers of hell.” You uttered with such venom, your eyes void of the warmth and gentleness they had when you looked at any of them.
“We’ll be going to Gevora first,” Yeosang’s voice brought you out of that dark growing cloud before it churned into a hurricane. The former Prince discreetly without alarming anyone stepped closer to you. His gentle fingers brushed over your knuckles. Your hands had clutched into fists behind your back with nails digging into your palms. “I’ll set the coordinates by your command, Captain.” He slipped his hand in yours and all Wooyoung could see was how that empty and dark look in your eyes disappeared.
“You may do so, Yeo.” He raised his hand to gesture his permission.
Hongjoong got up from where he had been sitting and glanced at you. “We’ll be heading to Gevora. Since our hyperdrive is still currently being fixed, the journey will take approximately…” he looked at Yeosang who had a neutral expression.
“A month.” The crew's navigator replied to their Captain.
“Make any needed preparations for then. Rest up and when we’re close, we’ll have another meeting before we land.”
Hongjoong left the bridge and disappeared into his office. San who was next to Wooyoung made movement to go to you, only for Mingi to reach you first.
“You okay, baby?” He kissed your temple.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” With Yeosang’s comforting touch and Mingi’s concern, it was hard to entertain any horrible thought about Sector 1. “I just really hate that place.”
San remained by Wooyoung’s side.
“As much as I’d love to stay here and coddle our pretty princess,” Jongho went up to you and embraced you briefly. “I have to fix the hyperdrive system.”
“Awe, don’t work too hard, Jongho. I’ll come see you to make sure you take a break.” You told the mechanic. “Anyways, don’t worry too much about me. I’m going to go to my room and start up on that book Hwa gave me.”
Mingi followed right after you as everyone dispersed, off to do their own agendas.
“You okay?” Wooyoung asked San on their way to the gym.
“That’s out of the blue. Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiled softly. “Was just worried about Y/N. That’s all.”
“Sector 1 seemed to be a touchy topic.”
“Well because it is,” San confirmed and Wooyoung was suddenly in full alert. “It’s where we were trained.”
From what San had opened up to him about his past, Wooyoung felt his stomach drop. “You sure you’re okay?”
San smiled warmly at him. “Why wouldn’t I be? In fact, I’m really happy. Y/N’s back where she belongs. Safe with us. I couldn’t ask for more.”
Wooyoung bit his tongue and fought the urge to say ‘You sure about that?’. Successfully he did so.
“Anyways for today’s, sparring session, I’m going to train you to improve your hand-to-hand combat.” San changed the subject quickly. “You’re good with a sword and not too bad with a gun but your unarmed combat needs improvement.”
“Ugh…you’re going to count how many times I fall on my ass again, aren’t you?” Wooyoung groaned.
“Of course I am.” San chuckled, his eyes smiling with mischief. “If you think hand-to-hand combat with me is difficult, try Y/N. Before you can even pull a punch, you’ll be kissing the ground.”
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“What are you doing up?” Your voice broke the silence in the dark kitchen, the only light coming from the open refrigerator.
Wooyoung swore in his head as he felt his heart race.
“I- I could ask you the same.” He took a deep breath before turning around, feeling his throat dry at the sight of your bare legs. You were wearing a black thin sweater that was far too big on you and he definitely was sure that he saw San wear it…Do you borrow their clothing as a comfort thing? Would you want any of his? He needed to do laundry.
He averted his eyes immediately…his throat drying up as he felt guilt shiver up his spine after what he had done again tonight. After what you and Mingi did again.
“Water…and maybe a midnight snack.” You replied, walking over to the fridge, bare feet on the cold floor as you stood next to Wooyoung. “You?”
“Midnight snack.”
“Ooo, so what does Jung Wooyoung have for a midnight snack?” Your tone was friendly and inviting, hoping that it’d calm whatever reason it was that made Wooyoung seemed nervous.
“Well, I made a batch of strawberries dipped in chocolate when we left Xileon. It’s probably set by now.” He opened the chiller to see the tray of dessert he made, feeling proud to see how pretty the dusted pink sugar glitter settled with the chocolate.
He took the tray out and set it on the kitchen counter, your eyes on the pretty strawberries lined up in organized rows.
“Here have one,” he pinched the leaf part and held it your way for you to take.
Not thinking much of it, you took a couple of steps forward and took a bite, unaware of how your lips brushing his fingertips made Wooyoung gulp.
“Mhm.” You closed your eyes, moaning at the sweet burst of the strawberry with chocolate in your mouth. For you, it may have been a brief moment but for Wooyoung, it was as if time slowed down and your lips wrapped around the lucky strawberry made him think of how pretty your lips would be wrapped around his—
“Oh my god, that’s delicious.” You squeaked happily, doing this little cute shimmy at how much you liked the dessert he made.
“U-Uh yeah. Thanks.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and played it cool.
“So how does a former noble know how to make such treats?” You wondered out loud, flashing him a smile that made his heart flutter. “Let alone cook. Yeosang told me you’re the one making the meals around here now.” You picked up another piece of strawberry. “I really loved the pancakes on my first day back, by the way.”
“Oh, I’m glad you loved them. And to answer your question, I hung around the kitchens a lot as a kid.”
“And your father let you do that?” You tilted your head, leaning against the counter.
“No, I did what any good kid being told not to do something do.” He picked up a strawberry and took a bite, missing the way your eyes flashed to lips and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he ate. “I didn’t listen.”
There was a beat of silence as you admired his handsome features. He was really handsome. Was being handsome part of the requirements of being in this crew or something?
“I heard you trained with Sannie today,” you looked him up and down, noticing the light bruise on his arm. Your brows knitted as your lips pursed at the sight and reached out to brush your fingers on the skin lightly. “You’re not that badly bruised. Which means you must be better than the average trained fighter.”
Wooyoung felt a rush of electricity wash over him with your light touch and your movement made the wide boat neckline of the sweater slip your left shoulder, showcasing the dark ruby marks along your neck and collarbone.
They were fresh…
“I heard you’re quite the master combatant.” He couldn’t help but take note that you’re braless. There was no sign of a strap on your delicate shoulders.
“I wouldn’t say master,” you hopped onto the counter, the edge of the sweater rising higher over your pretty thighs. “Did Sannie say that I was?”
“He hinted it.”
“Awe, how sweet of him.” You giggled, taking another piece of strawberry and holding it out to him. “Don’t make me eat by myself.”
Wooyoung matched your playful smile and went to pick up the strawberry but you pulled it back and away from him. There was a glint in your eye and in his view, you were glowing. The same magnetic feeling he felt when he saw you in the club returned and he inched closer to you til his hands rested on the countertop on either side of you. He could get a whiff of your natural sweet scent that had a hint of masculine musk which made sense since you and Mingi go at it like fucking bunnies and he heard you two every time. Turns out the room across his was yours. When he made that discovery he didn’t know if he was happy about it or hated it.
Now that he was closer, your legs parted to make room for him. One more step and he was in between them.
He kept his gaze locked on your face, trying to read your next move as well as trying to take in every detail of your features. He was so lost in the moment, he forgot the fact you were with Mingi. Was it so bad that he wanted you too?
You brought the strawberry to his lips, brushing the chocolate-dipped tip on them, tracing their plump curve. He looked into your eyes for permission, not sure why he did so. But your delighted nod at the gesture made him forget about that thought as his pretty lips parted and he took a bite.
“Good boy.” You purred, the same way you did when you two were grinding your hips on one another the night you two danced.
The way the praise fell from your lips sent heat straight to his cock and when he took his bite and met your eyes again, there was this thinning string inside of him that was ready to snap. Taking away the stem and leaving the strawberry in his mouth, he swallowed as he watched you toss the stem into the bin and as if his predicament couldn’t get worse, you licked the excess strawberry juice and melted chocolate off your fingers.
Wooyoung swore and cursed silently, feeling his cock twitch at the sight. He already jacked off in his room…and yet he was getting turned on by this simple interaction. Well, it wasn’t simple. In fact, it was rather intimate. What was going on? Were you flirting with him?
“So-,” he cleared his throat, breaking away from your gaze, and looked down, only to be met with the sight of naked soft, pillowy thighs and the hem of the flimsy sweater just a couple of inches away from showing him what he had been thinking about since he’s seen it in the private dance room. “You and Mingi?”
“What about me and Mingi?” You tilted your head, trying to meet his gaze again because you thought his eyes were pretty. Where was the arrogant man you had danced with?
“How long have you been together?”
“Almost two years.” You hopped off the counter and went to grab a small bowl, deciding to get some for San who was waiting in your bedroom… long enough.
“That’s a long time.”
You chuckled, moving over to the fridge and completely aware of Wooyoung’s eyes on you. Why was he being so jumpy around you? Or reserved? This really wasn’t the flirt you danced with and you had thought bringing him closer with your little playful strawberry trick would tease that out of him.
Smirking to yourself as you opened the fridge door, you bent over and pretended to look through the drinks selection. Wooyoung sucked in a breath as he saw the hem of the sweater rise dangerously high and he almost thought you weren’t wearing underwear til he saw black lace hugging your plump ass and covering your mound. It would be so easily to slip the flimsy fabric aside to see what he missed.
“Well, anyways, I should be heading back.” You grabbed a bottle of water and stood up straight, closing the fridge door. “It was nice talking to you, Woo.” You smiled at him, getting close to him on your way out. “Thank you for the strawberries.” Knowing exactly what you were doing, you leaned close to give him a small peck on the cheek before saying goodnight and heading back to your room.
Wooyoung watched you leave, heart racing and mind all jumbled up with thoughts of you, with what happened. When he saw you bent over like that, he immediately thought of how pretty you’d look bent over the island counter as he eats your pussy out.
Snapping out of it, he goes to put away the tray of strawberries but hisses when he felt the fabric of his sweats shuffle against his groin. Wooyoung groaned as he glanced down. He was bulging against his briefs.
On his way back to his room, he contemplated on fucking his fist again or letting his hard-on die down on its own. He stopped by your door and listened for any sounds of you and Mingi. A couple of seconds passed and he heard nothing. Okay, so maybe he won’t jack off…but the image of your ass in those black lace panties was so fresh that maybe another round won’t hurt.
“Dude, what are you doing?” Jongho’s voice made him jump away from your door, the youngest just turned the hall and saw him just standing there.
“Oh, I was just heading to bed.”
Jongho narrowed his eyes at Wooyoung. “Okay…weird. I’m too tired to question you right now. So just…okay. Goodnight.” The mechanic yawned, trudging towards his bedroom. He didn’t want to say much so that Wooyoung’s current assumptions would change, he didn’t want to lose his bet with San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong.
He wondered just how long Wooyoung would agonise over his infatuation with you and how long it’d take for him to find out the relationship you had with all of them.
Oh, and most excitingly, how and what would happen when he breaks?
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alesandraelin · 1 month
Text
𝚙𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚜 - 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚊 𝙿𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
description: Reader takes in two puppies
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The city was alive with the rhythm of the evening rush hour. Y/n, lost in a sea of suits and buildings, navigated the throngs of pedestrians with a sense of purpose. It was the kind of day where the cacophony of honking horns and distant sirens seemed like a distant hum against the focused rhythm of her thoughts. Yet, amidst the chaos, something small and unexpected caught her eye.
Two puppies, barely old enough to walk on their own, huddled together under a bench in a narrow alley. Their tiny bodies trembled from the cold, their fur matted and dirty. Y/n’s heart clenched at the sight. There were no signs of a mother or an owner, just two poor creatures in need of help. Without hesitation, she crouched down, her fingers brushing gently over their fragile forms.
“Hey there, little ones,” she whispered softly, her voice soothing. The puppies looked up at her with wide, trusting eyes. She knew she couldn’t just leave them there. With a determined nod, Y/n scooped them up, one in each arm, and made her way back to her apartment.
The journey was filled with cautious steps, careful not to jostle her tiny passengers too much. Once inside, she prepared a cozy corner in her living room, laying down a soft blanket and setting out some warm water and kibble she had on hand. The puppies seemed to recognize their temporary haven, and they curled up together, their bodies pressed against one another for warmth.
Hours later, Y/n had given the puppies a warm bath. She gently cleaned the grime from their fur, which revealed their true colors: a golden retriever mix with bright, curious eyes. The larger of the two had a slight limp, but otherwise, they appeared to be in good spirits despite their rough start.
Y/n’s heart ached with a mix of worry and affection. She knew that taking them in was not without its complications. The apartment wasn’t particularly suited for two growing puppies, and there was Alexia to consider. Alexia, her partner of three years, had always been the more practical one between them. Y/n admired her for her discipline and sensibility, traits that often balanced Y/n’s spontaneous nature. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Alexia might not be thrilled about their new houseguests.
As evening approached, Y/n busied herself with preparing a light dinner. Her mind kept drifting to the puppies, their little faces looking up at her with unwavering trust. She found herself lost in thoughts of how she could convince Alexia to let them stay.
The front door clicked open, and Y/n’s heart raced. Alexia walked in, her face flushed from a long football training session. She was clad in her team’s gear, her ponytail bouncing with each step. Alexia’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the scattered dog toys and the unmistakable scent of puppies.
“Hey,” Alexia greeted, her voice warm despite her exhaustion. She dropped her gym bag by the door and looked around, noticing the freshly cleaned puppies curled up on their blanket. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Hi,” Y/n replied, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the underlying anxiety in her voice. “So, I, um, found these two little guys earlier today.”
Alexia approached, her expression shifting from shock to curiosity. She knelt beside the puppies, her fingers gently stroking their soft fur. “They’re adorable,” she murmured, her tone softening. The puppies wagged their tails weakly, their eyes blinking up at her in sleepy recognition.
“I know,” Y/n said, joining her on the floor. “I was hoping we could keep them. I mean, if you’re okay with it. They’re just a little malnourished.”
Alexia looked up, her eyes meeting Y/n’s. There was a moment of silence, and Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. The uncertainty of Alexia’s response loomed large in the quiet room.
"I mean, it's okay if you don't want them here, I'll take them to the shelter tomorrow or find a friend that can take them in." Y/n said when Alexia looked up at her.
“I’m not going to lie,” Alexia said slowly, “I didn’t expect this. But… they need us. And I can see how much you care about them. I wouldn't mind having some company with us.”
With those words, Y/n's eyes lit up and a big smile came onto her face. She all but threw herself onto her partner. "Thank you so much Ale." Y/n pressed kisses onto Alexia's cheek and forehead in gratitude as Alexia wrapped her arms around the girl.
Over the next few weeks, Y/n and Alexia settled into their new routine. The puppies, whom they had named Ollie and Remi, quickly became a beloved part of their lives. Ollie, with his playful antics and endless energy, was always on the move, while Remi, smaller and more reserved, preferred to cuddle up close.
They had now become a family of 4. Alexia & Y/n would take them out on walks in the evening after Alexia finished training and even have them eat dinner at the foot of the dining table when they ate. Y/n and Alexia adapted their schedules to accommodate the needs of their new furry family members.
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earlysunshines · 7 months
Text
clouded
minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff(?)
synopsis: you find yourself with the girl you hate the most, she's drunk, bitchy, yet effortlessly eye-catching even as she insults you. 
warnings: cursing ; alcohol ; not proofread
a/n: hey... hi! surprise!!
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the thumping bass of the music downstairs reverberated through the walls, but in the secluded room upstairs, it was muffled, distant. in this quiet corner, away from the chaos of the party, and sana joined you, settling on the floor with a weariness that mirrored your own. 
“you fucking piss me off, you know?” sana scoffs, slurring her words and failing to keep her attention on on place. “you bitch.” 
“oh shut the fuck up, who’s the one calling me fresh meat? easy to bait? and whatever else you’ve said about me.” you retort, holding a cup of water up to her lips. “drink, shouldn’t be hard since it’s the only thing you’ve been doing all fucking night.” 
leaning her head against the doorframe, sana looked tired, her features bathed in the soft glow of the lamp. you could just barely see her flushed cheeks and the bridge of her nose, accentuating the subtle curve of her plump, parted lips. her eyes, heavy-lidded with fatigue, held a strange warmth as they met yours in the soft illumination.  
you hadn’t had anything to drink, so you can’t blame the alcohol for the spike of your heart beat or the sudden warmth in your cheeks. it was probably the adrenaline from the house party, it had to be because the last person that should be holding your attention captive right now is minatozaki sana. you'll blame the adrenaline for your lingering gaze and the way you subtly admire her face. 
sana's expression twisted into a grimace as she lifted the red plastic cup to her lips. with a sloppy motion, she took a slow sip, the liquid inside trickling down her throat. holding the cup in her hands, she seemed almost childlike, as if she had just come back from running all over the playground. something like that. 
“can you just... go. your face pisses me off.” sana mumbles, opening her eyes a little more just to narrow them again at you. “you piss me off.” 
“yeah? i think i got the hint. you've said that like, five times already in the past minute, including when i helped you up the stairs.” 
 sana groans, putting her palm to her head and sighing. she's absolutely wrecked, she has to be after downing three shots of straight vodka and that nasty beer in the cooler. 
none of her friends had helped her out, and even though she had talked shit about you and been a bitch to you for most of the time you’ve known her – you couldn’t just leave her alone while she’s drunk and groggy.  
“i’m taking you home.” 
“says who?” 
“me, so shut up for once or you’ll find yourself awake tomorrow on the floor and hungover in someones house.”  
sana remained silent, her body melting into the material behind her as she found a moment of reprieve. with the cup still cradled delicately in her hands, she brought it to her lips once more, sipping the water with deliberate slowness. as she swallowed, a contented sigh escaped her lips, a small drop of water lingering at the corner of her mouth. 
your eyes darted to the droplet, a curse escaping your lips as you moved instinctively to wipe it away. with a quick motion, your thumb brushed against her skin, capturing the droplet before it could slip further down her chin.  
“you’re a fucking mess.” you groan. 
sana's intense gaze locked onto yours, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. the proximity between you felt almost suffocating, with only inches separating your bodies. your hand pulled away as you sensed her closeness, a flush of embarrassment colored your cheeks.  
sana's gaze flickered down to your lips, her jaw tightening imperceptibly before meeting your eyes once more.  
the world seemed to stand still, the only sound that registered in your ears – despite the bass ringing from downstairs – was the thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  
“why are you still taking care of me?” sana groans, turning her head so she can push herself into the material behind her even more. “just leave me alone...” 
“your little friend group either found someone to fuck or completely abandoned your ass, and i actually have morals. i couldn’t just... leave you there.” you respond, feeling yourself grow bashful. you sigh, looking at sana’s state before grabbing her cup and helping her up.  
your hand instinctively found its way to sana's waist, providing support to keep her upright as you guided her towards the door. with a gentle touch, you steadied her, feeling the warmth of her body against your palm. as you opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, sana's mumbling reached your ears, the words failed to register in your mind. complete gibberish was being uttered, but it was better than an insult. 
in her drunked state, sana leaned into you, her lips dangerously close to your neck. you could feel the heat of her breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you braced yourself before going down the stairs. with each step, the proximity between you seemed to intensify as she weakly tried to tighten her hold around your neck.  
but even as you focused on maintaining your balance and guiding sana safely downstairs, the proximity between you stirred something puzzling. in that fleeting moment, as you finally reached the main floor of the house, the world around you faded into insignificance.  
"hey, wait... you’re slipping away, y/n, don’t leave," sana's voice pierced through the fog of the party, the unexpected emotion catching you off guard. it was a side of sana you hadn't seen before, vulnerable and raw, and it pulled at your heart strings.  
her words were sincere, devoid of the usual sharpness that characterized her tone. instead, there was a longing in her voice, a desperate plea for your presence that left you feeling disoriented.  
"i’m sorry for saying your face pisses me off, it— it doesn’t, it just, you’re so pretty and— please don’t leave me here, it’s so loud...” 
sana's confession hung in the air, leaving you with a mixture of confusion and warmth. was she being genuine in her apology and compliment, or was it just the alcohol talking? it was hard to decipher, and the uncertainty left you feeling perplexed. 
as you stood there with sana in your arm, you couldn't help but tighten your hold on her, a silent promise that you wouldn't leave her side. 
"sana, hey," you began, your voice soft and gentle. "i'm here, we're just a couple steps from the door. i won't leave you." 
the corners of your lips tugged up, a reassuring smile spreading across your face, genuine and unguarded. it was the first time you had smiled at sana, a rare moment of warmth breaking through the tension between you. for once, she wasn't the insufferable, sharp-tongued prick that she usually was. instead, she was vulnerable, you could get used to this, 
sana paused, her lips parting slightly as she gazed at you, mesmerized by the sight before her. in that moment, her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty, despite this—one thing became clear: she wanted to see that grin of yours again and again. maybe she’d let go of a bitchy facade, it wouldn’t hurt to throw one less insult your way. 
getting out of the house wasn't too difficult, but maneuvering past the couple making out in the doorway was definitely a challenge. sana clung to you tightly as you navigated through the crowded area, murmuring something – what had she been saying? hell, you couldn’t make out any of it – until the two of you had fully made it down to the sidewalk. 
as you reached the car, sana's grip on you tightened, her words a jumble of unintelligible syllables. despite the difficulty in deciphering her drunken words, you managed to open the door to the passenger side, guiding her inside with gentle persistence. 
once seated, sana squirmed in her seat, making it a challenge to fasten her seatbelt. after pushing the seat back for her and earning more space to maneuver, you managed to secure the buckle, before slipping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. 
as you drove, sana watched your every move with a squinty, curious look, her gaze unwavering despite the haze of alcohol clouding her senses. it was as if she was trying to piece together the puzzle of your actions, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fascination and befuddlement. despite the jumbled circumstances, there was a sense of intimacy in the way she observed you. 
“what’s your address?” you ask, turning to her and raising a brow. she stays silent, eyes threatening to close.  
you scoff, shaking your head out of frustration because the lenience towards your daily hassle is starting to run low. swiftly, you grab her face lightly, squishing her cheeks in between your fingers subtly to sober her up the best you can. sana's cheeks flush, and it’s not the alcohol fucking her up that’s making it happen. 
“i hate drunk people like you, so goddamn incompetent.” you sigh, watching her eyes widen slightly. “as if you weren’t already a pain in the ass.” 
sana furrows her brows, pouting and turning away from you before crossing her arms.  
“you’re so mean.” she whines, turning her body towards the window on her side. 
“you’re saying that to me?” you question, raising your brows out of pure disbelief. “i could write a list of shit you’ve had to say—” 
“i say things all the time, just take me home, you talk so fucking much.” sana groans, closing her eyes. “i live in the apartment closest to the shopping center in northside.” 
dealing with this intoxicated version of sana was testing your patience more than her usual, sober self ever did. her pouty and moody demeanor grated on your nerves, pushing you to the brink of simply cursing her out. despite the annoyance, you couldn't deny the inexplicable pull she had on you.  
as you drove, her squirming and murmuring only added to your exasperation, but beneath the surface irritation, there was an undeniable attraction simmering. it was infuriating how her drunken antics somehow made her even cuter, despite your best efforts to resist. her poutiness and moodiness, while frustrating, held a hint of vulnerability that made it easier to tolerate her. as much as you hated to admit it, there was a small part of you that found it endearing, a flicker of affection that you couldn't quite ignore.  
just a little bit cute, that’s all she was right now, even as you fought against the growing attraction. it was a terrible predicament to be in, but as you stole glances at her from the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but feel drawn to her in a way that defied literally everything that you’ve felt about her before. 
(though, you’ve always found her attractive, it’s that personality of hers that made you want to throw something at her.) 
it was terrible, this whole situation. she’s being a prick – nothing new – yet she looks adorable.  
half of the car ride was filled with stupid sighs and incoherent rambles coming from the drowsy, intoxicated woman to your right. ten minutes pass and you’re parked in front of what you think is sana’s apartment complex.  
you help her out and she clings onto you again, temporarily getting rid of your irritation.  
“second floor, 203.” she says, holding you closer than before. 
you've been in this situation countless of times, being friends with touchy, emotional men who find themselves calling you at the ungodly hours of night every weekend with lazy, drunken voices. however, sana makes you laugh with this sudden affection. the only thing your male friends have made you feel is angry and irritated, but you’d rather have those assholes survive the night instead of outside and vulnerable. 
"sana," you mutter, realizing it would be a hassle to walk her all the way to her place, "just... hang on." with a sigh, you gently pry her clinging arms off you, before crouching down slightly. "get on my back, it'll be faster." 
sana hums in confusion, her drunken haze making comprehension a bit slow. but with a tilt of your head and patient urging, she finally gets the message. slowly, she clambers onto your back, wrapping her arms around your neck and resting her head on your shoulder as she piggybacks you. she’s closer than before, close enough that you can smell the mix of alcohol and vanilla coming from her.  
"you're strong," she mumbles, her voice slurred. 
"you're not heavy, sana," you chuckle, surprising yourself with how amused you are by the situation.  
sana really isn’t heavy, making it easier for you to walk up the stairs despite a whole woman being on your back. you reach the second floor and look for her room number, 203, and let out a small breath of relief once you reach it.  
you try to get her off your back, but she simply clings on tighter with each attempt.  
“no, this is fun, i have the code, just press.” sana mutters into your ear, “1019.”  
rolling your eyes at sana's whining, you punch in the code and the door unlocks with a soft click. with a sigh of relief, you turn the knob and let yourselves in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the dimly lit apartment. your gaze immediately falls on the couch across the room, and you guide sana over to it, ignoring her protests. 
once she's settled on the couch – although not without more grumbling – you stride over to the nearby fridge. opening it, you grab a bottle of water. with water in hand, you return to sana's side, gently coaxing her to drink a little more. 
"come on, sana, it'll help you feel better," you urge, holding the bottle to her lips and tipping it slightly. despite her reluctance, you manage to get her to take a few sips. “lightweight.” you say under your breath. 
after you wipe away at the water that managed to spill out the corner of her lips, she groggily says, “i’m so tired.”  
“then sleep, you’re home.” 
“will you leave me if i do?” 
looking at her in surprise, you respond, “what?” 
sana lays down on the couch, her cheek smushed against a pillow, a soft sigh escaping her lips. 
"why don't you stay?" she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. 
you chuckle softly at her suggestion, shaking your head in amusement. "you'd kill me in the morning. i don't know if you're aware of this right now, minatozaki, but you fucking hate my guts." 
with a wistful smile, you glance around the room, your eyes landing on a cozy-looking blanket draped over the back of the couch. without hesitation, you reach for it and gently drape it over sana -- only covered in her cropped, fit tee and jeans -- ensuring she's comfortable before responding, 
"i wish i knew why," you admit, your voice tinged with a hint of dissapointment. 
sana's response catches you off guard, her words slurred with sleepiness. "i don't. you’re just... too pretty to be interacting with someone like miyeon. she's worse than you." 
miyeon? the mention of your ex-friend only adds to the confusion of the evening, and you can't help but dismiss sana's words as nonsense ramblings brought on by alcohol. 
"you're saying stupid shit right now," you tease gently, a fond smile playing on your lips as you look at her tenderly. 
despite the chaos of the night and the annoyance she's caused you, there's something undeniably endearing about sana in this moment. it's hard to hate her when she's like this, vulnerable and unguarded, and you find yourself softening towards her despite your better judgment. 
as sana closes her eyes and falls into a peaceful silence, you take it as your cue to start leaving. with one last glance at her sleeping form, you quietly make your exit, knowing that it's best to give her the rest she needs to recover from the night's festivities. 
you can't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, dealing with this intoxicated sana isn't so bad after all—maybe even sober sana. you wouldn’t mind taking care of her again, maybe less bickering, though. maybe she’s not so bad, but you’ll come to a final conclusion later.
probably. 
632 notes · View notes
kakushino · 1 year
Text
First... or Fourth?
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Uzui Tengen x AFAB! Reader
You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...
Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader Word count: 7,9k
Masterlist | Part 2
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Just a few more miles, just a few more…
You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul. 
Uzui Tengen.
Your husband.
One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying. 
He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact. 
Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he- 
No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other. 
But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order. 
The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.
You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.
The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you. 
You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.
Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.
You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach. 
You couldn’t wait.
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Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much. 
What’s going on?
“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.
He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?
“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women. 
You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-
In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-
“Lord Tengen, who is this?” 
The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.  
A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together. 
Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?
Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back. 
His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home. 
“Lord Tengen?” 
The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.
“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.
Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you?  Who are these women and why are they with my husband?
“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”
And with just one word - wives wives WIVES -  he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name. 
“Forever? You promise?”
“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”
It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.
Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.
Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with- 
Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?
You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.
“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.
Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.
In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”
The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-
“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-” 
His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders. 
“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-” 
Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”
“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-” 
You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.
“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.
And you weren’t immune.
You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two. 
As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating. 
“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.” 
He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck. 
You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”
He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.
But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.
"Tengen, breathe."
Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again. 
More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"
His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.
"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.
Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.
“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him. 
You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.
For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.
There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?
You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?
What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?
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You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it. 
“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.
You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open. 
“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.
“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.
You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention. 
Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.
It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.
Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.
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The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it. 
Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.
The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.
Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.
Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?
You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.
There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time? 
Could you handle being the fourth wife?
You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday. 
You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.
The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.
A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”
For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.
In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.” 
He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.
Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.
“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”
He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”
You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.
Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.
“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.
Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.
You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.
The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.
You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.
The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.
“Oh, precious…”
Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.
“-ious? Precious, please answer me-” 
You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”
He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you. 
Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.
Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.
“Precious, please, tell me-”
The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.” 
“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”
“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”
‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.
“Can I touch you?”
You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives. 
“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”
Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.
The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.
His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.
He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.
Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-
His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.
His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-
His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.
You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.
And then there was a kiss.
Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. 
"[Name]!"
You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit. 
Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.
“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.
The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive. 
His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain. 
Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.
You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.
“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.
His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.
Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”
Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.” 
His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.
You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…
His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.
“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”
Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.
A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso… 
Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves. 
You flinched-
He made a sound of distress. 
- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.
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You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”
This is nothing.
The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.
This is nothing.
The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.
This is Nothing.
You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.
This Is Nothing.
Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.
This Is NOTHING.
You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out. 
THIS IS NOTHING.
You vomited.
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“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”
The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”
“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”
“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy. 
His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.
Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.
“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus. 
What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.
What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.
What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.
“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.
“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”
You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.
“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.
“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-” 
The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.
He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.
You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.
“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.
You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?
At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.
An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”
Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.
You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”
“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.
That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway. 
With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded. 
Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.
“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside. 
When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.
Something drew your attention though.
There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.
His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips. 
The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.
“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”
His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.
“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.
You paused - and nodded.
One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.
Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes. 
“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.” 
When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.
“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.
You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.
“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious." 
You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.
Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.
He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”
His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs. 
Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently. 
His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.
The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.
“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.
The thickly-wound knot snapped.
Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.
“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”
Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”
You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind. 
He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.
“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.
“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.
“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.
He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.
“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”
“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”
“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.
You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…” 
Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.” 
He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.
His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.
You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.
“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.
“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between. 
“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently. 
The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.
“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”
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The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.
There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.
Part 2
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heedeungism · 2 months
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say yes to heaven (say yes to me). | teaser
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⭒ ice prince!sunghoon x fire princess!reader 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⭒ the crown prince of the ice kingdom is not known for having objects of affection. perhaps the fiery princess of the fire kingdom is all that is needed to thaw his frozen heart. (route 1 of the eternal flame saga) 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ⭒ alcohol, cursing, the beginnings of a panic attack, dwagons 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⭒ 10k> (teaser is 1k) 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⭒ this is only a small snippet of a longform fic i’ve been working on since house of the dragon started up again, so obviously it’s inspired by that. however i did need to fix the whole incest = dragons so i made up this whole concept that, while obviously inspired by hotd, is incest free! i have other fics in this same universe outlined(hence the ‘route 1 of the eternal flame saga’), but i will be focusing most of my attention on this fic until it’s done!
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masterlist. rules. request.
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The House of Frost’s sigil is arguably one of the more simple of the Great Houses. A banner of pale blue, a white emblem of stark beauty, a dragon. Next to sigils of the other Kingdom’s, it appears as icy as one would imagine.
The Houses of Earth and Wind fly flags of more neutral colors, ivories and browns. The Water Dragon Kingdom’s a royal blue and Sky Dragon's a pale pink, but none so beautifully bright as his.
Yet, you see no sign of it as you sit at the head of the dining hall beside your brother.
Tourney’s you’ve attended usually start with a dinner the first day, then a melee or joust the second and third, a tour, maybe even a hunt if so desired by the king, or Prince Regent in this case. Your brother seems keen on being exceptionally annoying, booking your schedule for the week with barely enough time to bathe let alone avoid the eyes of the realm.
So, now, you sit at the large dinner, and realize you have yet to see the sigil you were so expecting.
Riki leans down at his station standing close behind you, “I imagine the Northern Sea is rather backed up this time of year.”
His jest does not impress you, “He could arrive on dragonback if he so cared.” As you finish your childish claim, the doors open.
“Prince Sunghoon of the House of Frost. Heir to his throne.”
Your sworn knight nearly snorts, as a tall male arrives. He has no company, only the sword at his hip as he prowls toward the table you sit.
Ten years had changed a lot. No longer did he have the sickly look about him, his skin even and his shoulders fuller with what you can only assume is muscle. He carries himself with a confidence you could never compare to princes like Yeonjun of the Earth Territories, who holds his head too high and carries too cocky of a smile for you to respect him outright, or Sunoo of the Sky Archipelagos in the west who’s bashful countenance somewhat underwhelmed you considering the story attached to his crowning.
Prince Sunghoon is sure of himself, you can see it in the slight sway of his shoulders and his wide gait, but he doesn’t carry that confidence with the arrogance you expected of the Prince of Crystal Snow.
He’s beautiful. Fuck.
“It appears he does care, your highness.”
Riki snickers as you quickly bite back, “Shut up.”
“Prince Sunghoon, I thought we were to expect your family on the morrow?” Your brother muses, and the prince bows at his waist in greeting.
“My mother, the queen, fell ill. I come alone.” He said, his voice is much deeper as well, though that’s to be expected.
“I wish her good health, then.” The Prince Regent wishes a genuine prayer. The ice prince bows his head, his gaze only moves to you when you speak.
“And your knight?”
Your brother kicks your foot under the table at your tone, yet the prince only offers a gentle smirk with another honest bow, “Ser Jaeyun arrives tomorrow. He found a ride on dragonback to be…unpleasant.”
Riki coughs, and you fight the tug at the corner of your mouth with a sip of wine, “Pity.”
“Is Ser Jaeyun to participate in tomorrow's celebrations?” Your brother asks, the joust, and the prince shakes his head.
“I would prefer, Your Grace, myself to participate,” His gaze flicks to yours, and an unyielding warmth plants its roots at the bottom of your spine, creeping up the longer his eyes keep you in their sights, “If you would allow it.”
Your brother seems all too pleased at the news, “I see no reason to object. What of you, Princess?”
Sipping the wine in your cups does nothing to ease the nerves of your heart, “By all means.”
He bows once again before a servant guides him to his table, where a visibly excited Prince Sunoo waves him over. The other princes gather at that table, mingling and laughing together.
While you sit at the grand dining table sipping from your cups like it’s life’s water, the dress you were put into squeezing your abdomen uncomfortably.
“I do hope we have enough sheep to keep the dragons fed.” Your brother muses, observing the table of dragonheirs before glancing your way.
“Most of them keep themselves fed,” You dismiss, “We shouldn’t deplete our people’s resources for an event this needless.”
“Your words wound me, sister.” He pouts, quite unbecoming of a Prince Regent.
“Then may you bathe in the salts of Azora.” The bite to your words makes your brother sigh, he startles slightly when you slam your goblet back onto the table beside your plate of picked-at food, “My cup is empty.”
A servant hastens forward to refill it, a shaky apology falling from her lips, which has you regretting your outburst immediately. When she moves to retreat back to her position hovering near the wall so as to not be seen, you grab the pitcher from her hands and say, “I’ll keep this, please.”
The word falling from your lips seems to surprise her, before she panics and bows, “Of course, my princess.”
Riki snickers as the servant hastens away to make herself useful elsewhere, biting his cheek when you hiss, “Shut. Up.”
When you face forward once again, your eyes scanning the room, your gaze is caught in another.
Smoldering flames meet biting frost, and a burning tug travels up your gut and into your throat. It’s pure instinct that tears your gaze away, an attempt to free your body of the dreadful feeling.
It lingers in your chest even as you take a hefty swallow from your cup.
I am dragonfire. You repeat to yourself, a rush in your veins. The wine makes your skin hot, and the corset around your torso only makes catching your breath all the more difficult. The litany does not quell the flames in your chest.
I am dragonfire. I am the flame's heart. I am unburnt and I am the Princess of Eternal Flame.
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©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
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Xavier: Residence for a day
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Warning: 16+, Suggestive content, almost nudity, f!reader, reader is mc
Author's notes: This was supposed to be a crack-fic but I realized it'd be unfair if only Sylus gets the spicy scenes.
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"My toilet exploded." Xavier chimed the moment you opened the door to your apartment. He was partially drenched, with pajamas sticking to his ankles and splotches of dark color around his gray shirt. He looked beyond miserable.
How does a toilet explode, exactly?
"Not a good morning to you, it seems." Despite just waking up yourself, you made way for him to enter, glancing at the state of your apartment. While he made his way inside, you handed him a towel and a spare set of clothes he left 3 days ago. "Did you call the landlord?"
"Yes. They said my apartment would be fixed tomorrow, but in the meantime, I need a place to stay," Xavier sighed, his voice low and grumbly. You weren't sure, but his tone was undoubtedly laced with implications. You aren't that thick-headed, and you can see the slight glimmer of his eyes.
"You're welcome to stay here, Xavier." You said with a small smile.
"Thanks. I'll stay out of your way and keep myself scarce."
"Hey! You make it sound like I don't want you here—"You pinched his cheeks, noting how squishy they were. "You can do what you want except cook in the kitchen. That's my only rule."
"Understood."
"Well then, I'll be taking a bath first. I've got errands to run."
The day went by quickly, nearly making you forget that you have someone waiting for you at home. With a handful of groceries on your left hand and some takeout on your right, you entered the premises of your own home. The first thing you noticed was the eerie quiet in the house and your bedroom door left ajar.
A slither of golden light escaped, yet you dare not attempt to disturb the peace.
Xavier must be sleeping.
In the best attempt you can, you unpacked the groceries with only one lamp light to use as your guide. It was peaceful that evening, that is, until—
"Good evening," the voice croaked.
You placed the last bag of meat in the freezer, "Good evening—"
You turned your front and saw him standing there.
Standing in his full naked glory— well, almost.
Holy shit. "There's food at the table." You turn your head to your front and shut your eyes, but the image still lingers.
Well-toned body, yet soft skin. Tiny waist and defined collar bone and…
Navy blue boxers. tight. packed.
"Do you need help—"
"No! I'm…I'm good. I just finished unloading!" You turned to your left and crumpled the eco-bag, pulling every inch of your being to not sneak a glance his way and down there.
—but you still did it.
Oh, it's packing alright.
You shake your head to ward off the evil thoughts and astute observations. You twisted your heel and came face to face with his chest. "You're red." He stared down at your horribly, horribly red face.
"Put something on, please. It's…" You averted eye contact too hurriedly. "It's cold out tonight."
Your lover hummed in amusement, the gentle glint of waking up fading like the sun during the evenings. A shift in the air made you shiver, and before you could process everything, a firm limb grabbed your waist, quickly hoisting you up and settling you on the counter. You gagged at the swift motion, fingers digging into his shoulders to find stability.
"Xavier, Wha—" You gather your thoughts on his actions, yet he barely gives you leeway to speak. His nose pressed against yours, his usual gentle eyes coated with a sheen of lasciviousness. You could only press your head back against your neck; otherwise, you're about to be kissing each other.
"Why are you red?" He asked, innocent.
"I…uh…" Why were you red? He's your lover, for Pete's sake!
"This isn't the first time you've seen me like this, right honey?" Xavier stretched his neck forward a bit further, kissing the corners of your lips. "You've seen me naked as well…"
"Those times are different!"
"Really? You better get used to this sight then," Against your own wishes, he wrapped his big, cold hands around your wrist and placed it on his chest. You can feel his slow heartbeat underneath that cold skin beating slower. Still, the slight tint of pink under the yellow light implied something different. He lifted your hand, which no longer offered resistance, nudging it lower and lower until a finger felt the ridges of his flexed Abdominis.
"It's too early, Xavier," You whispered under your breath.
"It's already evening, honey."
"What about dinner?"
He nudges you to lie on the cold marble countertop, and you do. With the ceiling as your view and the same light dimly illuminating the space, you hear him say:
"I'd rather eat something else."
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Author footnotes: Xavier probably made it up that his toilet exploded. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?
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synthetickitsune · 2 months
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Seungkwan (SVT) | Golden hour fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader
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”You look like the sun,” you chuckle when you see your boyfriend kneeling on the sofa. He’s taking pictures of the sunset through the open window, but the golden rays make it seem like his hair is glowing. Like he is glowing. A star fallen into your living room. He turns towards you with a playful pout but soon returns to his task, set on taking the perfect picture.
You cross the room, a little quicker now. The perspiration on the cool glass is starting to slide down the glasses of lemonade and you make it a game for yourself of not getting the floors wet. You make it. Taking out the lemon-themed coasters, you think it’d be nice to have more variants of different fruits to match your drinks. 
You voice the thought aloud to Seungkwan, making him smile and turn towards you.
“We can find some. There will be plenty online,” he says while he sits down next to you. He shows you the picture he took. It’s perfect and you tell him so, earning a grateful kiss to your cheek.
The room is bathed in a warm glow. The walls look like they’re dripping gold, oozing honey. You lean back into the pillows and take it all in. The breeze blows in gently and carries the voices of people on the street and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Seungkwan, having already diligently documented the scene outside, watches you instead. Then he pulls up his phone again to take a picture of you too.
“That’s not gonna be much of a masterpiece,” you hum, turning your face towards him.
“Wrong,” he smirks and proudly turns his phone towards you. He already changed his lockscreen to the picture he just took. You laugh. It could be worse. “See?”
“All I see is that my boyfriend has a talent for photography,” you lean closer to him and kiss him. 
“You’re my muse,” he whispers against your lips before pulling away and taking his glass of the cool drink. He praises the taste like it’s not the easiest drink to make. 
“Oranges would be better. They’d match the color more,” he ruins it right after and points to deeper shade on the walls.
“Sure, maybe tomorrow. If the nice weather lasts, we can have a whole photoshoot here,” you tease only a little, you really mean it for the most part.
Seungkwan’s eyes twinkle either way as he immediately leans against you and starts motioning around the room, telling you all about his vision. Somehow you think it’s been on his mind for a while. You wonder if he’d ever suggest it himself.
You listen to him, and you must admit his ideas sound wonderful. At some point, however, all you register is his voice and the light. Sunlight paints him to be a statue with golden cracks where the rays filter into the room. He really might as well be a fallen star that found its home in your apartment. It could be him that illuminates the entire room. His voice only helps the daydream develop. No mere human could sound so nice. 
You barely, no - you simply don’t realize that your body starts slumping against your boyfriend's. He's quite comfortable, and comforting even more so. Your body fits so nice against his, so naturally like it’s meant to be. You bask in his glow. He must be a guardian angel sent to you.
But while you don't realize, Seungkwan has noticed your absent-minded gaze quite some time ago. He knows you tend to get lost in your own head sometimes and doesn't get concerned anymore. Although he is curious what you're thinking about when you lean against him. Slowly he stretches his arm and lets it rest around your shoulders. You don't startle, you don't even notice. He continues speaking without giving into the temptation to call you cute and squish your cheeks. He gets the same reaction - or lack of - when he begins playing with your hair.
Eventually though, you come to. With a cute confused hum and loving smile.
“Where did you go?” Seungkwan coos at you.
“I just thought about how happy you make me,” you snuggle closer to him, hugging his waist. Your head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck. He stutters a little.
“Bet you weren’t even listening to me,” he mumbles under his breath and you know he’s just trying to hide that even after all this time you still make him shy. So you repeat his words to him, at least what you did catch, and it’s enough to drive him into a corner. “Not fair.”
You laugh, pecking his neck and rubbing your nose on the skin of his throat. He wonders aloud why you are so affectionate suddenly, but you stay quiet - you already told him anyway.
“I’m really happy with you too,” he whispers after a beat of silence, hugging you closer, “Very happy.”
And so you sip your lemonades and watch the sunset together. It might not seem like much, but you like this little life.
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starieq · 5 months
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“Lovin her seems tiring..” part 4/5
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Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping, humping, masturbating.
18+ part 5!
Bakugos POV;
I slammed the door in her face, fuck. I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 
I take out my phone from my pocket and click photos. 
I click the one where you’re wearing a two piece bathing suit in my colors. Orange, black, and green. 
I fall back to the door and take out my aching cock from my sweats.
“Fuck.. I’m so hard,” I begin stroking up and down slowly. 
“She makes me so fuckin hard..” I throw my head back flipping through 3 pictures of you in bikinis. 
“Every fuckin time I hear her damn voice, mh~” I try to mimic how your hands would jerk off my cock. 
“Fuckkkk~” I start going faster with each stroke. I try to keep my voice down so the people in the rooms next to me don’t hear.
I stand up still stroking my cock and I get onto the bed. I grab two pillows, and put one on top of the other and slid my cock in between them.
“F-fuuuck..” I start humping the pillows fast as i am about to cum.
“F-f-fuck, y/n,” I start going even faster. “
“Wish this was yer sweet tight pussy ‘round my cock, y/n~” I moan, wiping off a few sweat beads from my forehead.
“Wanna hear her fuckin beautiful voice again~” I start going even faster and I cum in between the pillows.
“FUCK!~” I moan. 
I stay there for a few seconds, humping through the orgasim panting like a dog in heat. 
“Fuckin Christ..” I close my eyes and fall asleep.
Until I see her tomorrow..
:a/n; hihi! Sorry it’s short, I didn’t have any motivation today, but my crush said he liked me so yippee! 🥳 I promise you part 5 will be way better and a little longer. Love ya! ❤️
TAGGIES!; @slayfics @gold24fish @effy-2000 @zanarkandskylines
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