#WHERE ARE THOSE EYES LOOKING AT SIR??? WHAT IS THAT
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soapssuds · 1 day ago
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android!john price x human!reader, or in which you seek a human companion after many years of being alone.
+18, smut, mdni, etc.
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You were a fidgety mess as you sat in the waiting area of the office. Your eyes continually glance towards the door as you waited for your name to be called.
The office you were waiting in was like a dating service of sorts. It was for people who had trouble connecting with others. So, to help, one could get assigned or "matched" with a android.
The android could be your friend, a guide, ... a lover. Whatever you need, the android will help. And the android also had a choice too. Some seek companionship as humans do. Others are just fascinated by the whole human emotion concept in general.
Whatever it was, both humans and androids wanted to help each other. To better understand or to just not be alone in the world. And it seemed to help.
You were broken out of your thoughts when your name was called. The doctor beckoning to you to the door as you got up and collected your purse.
"Morning, how are you doing today?"
You smiled at the doctor, "I'm good... though, I am curious about the match?"
It was normal to be nervous. Because sometimes there were people who couldn't even match with an android.
The doctor smiled at you, "luckily we found the perfect partner for you."
You cringed at how she said it. You didn't want the android, whoever they were, to feel like they were being forced into a relationship after all.
She stopped in front of a door, "he's in there."
"Do I just go in?"
"That's all there is to it."
"What if he changes his mind about being with me?"
The doctor chuckled softly at you and ushered you forward, forcing you to open the door with her closing it behind you.
You aren't ready for this, you decided. And just as you were about to back out, someone greeted you.
"Morning love, I was wondering when I would get to meet you face to face."
Putting a on a brave face that consisted of a kind smile and easygoing eyes, you turned towards the voice.
“Morning, uhm… sorry, she didn’t tell me your name.”
“Neither did she tell me yours.”
He stood up from the chair that was situated at the table in the middle of the room, his form was towering. You wondered how he was created in such a way, but quickly stuffed the idea away.
You held out your hand and gave out your name, your eyes holding every anxious thought within them as you hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself, “you can call me John.”
He didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your gesture, much to your relief. And when his hand fitted into your own, you were taken aback a little by how warm it was. Your surprise caused him to chuckle which, in turn, caused your cheeks to heat up.
“Now love, I know why I am here, but how about you? What are you looking for the moment you set through those doors?”
He was still holding your hand (most likely to track your heart rate) while his eyes were trained on yours. You wondered silently if he even needed to blink.
“I want a partner… a romantic one. Someone who I can go on dates with, cuddle with in the evenings, and… and be intimate with. That’s what I am looking for.”
You barely managed the confidence to say all of that. Though, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to shrivel up at every single admitted word that fell from your lips. A whole part of you felt so greedy, so selfish. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea-
“Good.”
“G- good?”
He moved his hand to grip at your wrist and gently tugged you forward to where you fell into his chest, “because love, that’s what I was looking for too. It may be hard to believe, but even androids can love.”
You couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from your lips, “and I wouldn’t doubt that at all.”
“Then, would you allow me to take you out on a date so we could properly get to know each other?”
Deciding to just stop worrying for once, you played along. A giddy smile on your lips as you leaned in, “if you would be so kind to escort me, good sir.”
To say the least, you never made it to your little date.
Instead, you had brought him to your home so you could get ready, though, what ended up in you changing your clothes was him politely knocking on your door to help you out which eventually led into him helping you into bed.
A date could always wait for another day, right?
Sure, you were doing things backwards, but with how John had your legs folded up to your chests, you doubted that he cared.
“Ahhh, look at you, love, your cunt is just swallowing me whole.”
He pressed his weight down onto you, his hands gripping your hips harshly as he thrusted into you. His dick plunging and marking your walls, forcing your nerves to remember him. As a steady and hard plap – plap – plap echoed into the room along with your moans and sweet whimpers every time his tip kissed your cervix.
You scratched at his back, your nails digging into his all too real skin as you tried to thrust your hips back into him, desperate for him to go deeper, harder. Removing one of his hands from your hips, he moved his fingers down to your dripping cunt, with precise and careful movements, he started to gently rub at your clit. The way you moaned so loud for him as that thread snapped within you. Your walls clenching hard around him as you came around his hard length. The mere feel of you squeezing his cock had him gushing. His cum that filled you may match the white color of a human man’s but was otherwise just harmless warm fluid created and stored, only to be used in such situations as these.
And to say the least, you were his first partner who let him cum inside, and as he watched you try to catch your breath, he finally released your legs from the mean mating press he had you in. And before he could pull out of you, you had already locked your legs around his waist.
“Again?”
You were breathless, but craved for more. To match with someone like you.. he was truly lucky.
“Only if you’ll ride me this time,” he said flipping you both over so he was now on his back and you were straddling his waist, his cock stiff snuggly inside you.
“With pleasure, and then maybe we can go out on that date later?”
“Whatever you want and more, love. I’m all yours, just as you’re mine.”
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bokettochild · 5 hours ago
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Little Soldier Boy, Come Marching Home
I apparently had some Uncle Aflon brainrot (could y'all tell?) and it spawned this monster!
Not sure if I'm actually going to make a story about this, I mean a proper one, but this refused to let my brain rest until I wrote at least this much, so I figured I'd share it for the folks who kept sending me Aflon asks :)
(Yes I am very aware that the title is from a song, I'd recommend listening to the Reinaeiry cover on YouTube, because it's also rotted my brain since I listened to it and I think it suits Aflon and Legend quite well T-T)
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  The first time he held Link, it was standing on the edge of the wood, away from the eyes of all the kingdom and under a veil of darkness. The forest chattered and whispered behind him, bringing to mind whispers of thieving Kolkiri and fae, and it had made him hold the babe in his arms all the tighter. 
  His sister-in-law was watching him closely, hands hovering, wary, like she didn’t trust him to hold the child quite right, ready every second to take the positively tiny bundle back from him and tuck that red and fitful face back against her own breast, hushing and cooing softly herself as she’d been when he’d arrived there. She didn’t though, although whether that was due to his own skill or some sort of restraint from the woman, he wasn’t certain. 
  “What’s the little ‘us name then?” He’d asked, pushing down the swaddling of rough fabric, far too rough for so small a thing, but lined carefully with far finer where no eyes could see. The child within trembled, cold air drawing a wavering wail from a tiny mouth. There wasn’t much to see anyways, he was a baby, same as anyone had ever had. Far smaller than Aflon had ever seen before though; so small he almost could hold him in one hand alone, but by all other means the tiny creature wasn’t much to look at. 
  Despite that though, Loretta’s dark gaze hadn’t lifted once from the infant, usually stern features awash with pure adoration as one trailing hand lifted the blanket back up to shield the babe once more. “Link.” 
  “Like the hero?” The dead one? 
  “Like the star,” her hands lingered so close to the face of her child, and in answer, the tiny one stilled, quieting as though some spell was laid over him. “Like the boy who brought hope to dark countries when Hyrule was at her worst.” 
  “Sir Raven’s squire.” 
  She’d nodded. “The same.” 
  And the child was just, well, a child; a tiny wee thing that felt so fragile to hands accustomed to the sword, and Aflon had shaken his head with a sigh, turning to Loretta with the question that had plagued him since he’d been given his riding orders this morning with the command to meet her here. “Why me?” 
  Those had been the words to make her draw back, pain welling up behind dark violet eyes that avoided his own. “There’s no one else I can ask.” 
  “He’s your son.” 
  “Which is the same as a sentence of death,” she’d hissed, tone harsh as her blade, “you know as well as I how Hyrule sees its crown. You took a vow the same as any other knight.” 
  He had. 
  “That child,” her child, “stands no chance, no matter what I do, if I keep him with me.” 
  Aflon had shifted, sparing the bundle in his arms a glance one more before murmuring, “his chances are pretty slim regardless, ‘Etta. Babes this small-” 
  “I know,” She’d run a finger along a tiny cheek, face pinching into something bordering on gentle, on sweet, something no one would describe the woman as save with her steads, “But it’s the best I can give him.” 
  He’d felt the weight of those words, the weight of their expectation, and all the more so when the Queen of all Hyrule had lifted violet eyes to hold his own and given him her final command. “Protect him, Aflon. He’s not just your prince, he’s your nephew, and I swear on hell’s ashes if you fail him, I will flay you.” Typically, he’d have assumed her words to be in jest, but the fire behind her eyes, a furious and dangerous love the likes of which he’s only heard tell of a mother for her babe, had made him take the words to heart. 
  “I won’t fail you, your grace.” 
  “No,” she’d stepped closer, pulled his arms down just a bit further so she could duck her head and press a kiss to a tiny cheek, “don’t fail him. All else doesn’t matter-” 
 “The princess-” 
 “I will mind the princess,” Loretta’s eyes had darkened, “and failing that, the Impa sent is a good one. Your priority is him,” and both of them had turned to the child, a child so tiny he almost weighed nothing, but yet lay so heavy in his arms with duty set beside him. “He needs you.” 
  And he did. He hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t felt it, but even a man made in blood and battle knows the worth of life. And so, somehow, he’d managed. 
  He’d carried his little charge back to the closest village and taken a room, managing to ignore the curious and lingering gazes of the locals at a young knight in full armor with a tiny baby in his arms.  
  In truth, he hadn’t been sure where to go from there. Loretta had entrusted him with her child, which meant all other missions, whatever they might be, were out of the question. His duty as a knight, as a soldier, was now changed, which, all considered, wasn’t the worst fate in the world. Still, he’d mused, staring at the tiny creature that slept more than he stirred, it’s not exactly the life he’d imagined for himself. 
  They’d always been knights, or so his own father had taught himself and his brother. The men in their family take up the sword and the women the plow and reigns of a rancher. Their older sister already is married with her own farm, and goodness knows Banzetta himself, though king consort, still carries his blade as the second in command to their warrior queen. For himself, Aflon has never imagined anything else than to serve as his forefathers, perhaps to marry, although there’s no woman who’s caught his eye as of yet, or at least none he’d be keen to stay beside for all his life. He can’t continue traveling Hyrule though, not with a tiny child in his care, not when the world out there is still so dangerous and dark. 
  For days, he’d stayed at the inn. He’d had no direction or clue, but he’d done his best to mind the tiny princeling in his care, although his attempts must have been very poorly indeed because it wasn’t long at all before two of the local village women had been knocking down his door and scolding him left right and sideways. 
  Without the women of Kakariko, Aflon could say for a certainty that neither he nor Link would have made it through that winter. They had though. The ladies of Kakariko nursed his precious nephew alongside their own children, taught himself how to change and clean a child, how to swaddle them up tight against the cold, how to burp and soothe them. He’d listened with care, listened like they were marching orders from a commanding officer, and he’d taken them all to heart, employing every bit of skill imparted to best fulfill his duty to the child in his care. 
  Thankful as he was for those women, the many mothers of Kakariko, young and old both, there was still, despite their care, a fear that gripped him each time one of them took up Link in their arms. The babe was a prince of Hyrule, and were that known it would be easy to stage some incident to see that the bad omen that was a royal son was no more. The women of the village would laugh, saying that anxiety for a child was normal, but they had no conception how deeply his fear ran each time one of them held the boy, each time he had to turn his back on his helpless charge for even the smallest of moments. 
  Come spring, he’d settled, bought a piece of land with the money he’d saved over the years and made a home for himself. As it happened, an old orchard had been up for sale, just close enough to the village to keep in touch with those who’d shown them kindness, but with enough distance that he no longer felt the need to be on the defense at all times against neighbors who might seek to harm the boy in his care. 
  They’d asked, some of the village folk, if the baby was his. For lack of a better response, he’d said Link was his brother’s. No one questioned it. Why would they? He was a stranger to them, and though chatter would sound on street corners wondering what had happened to lead him, ‘a clueless young man who hasn’t the faintest on how to mind a babe’ to have care of Link, but they’d never asked him anything more, just gone on offering advice. 
  That was fine though. That was better than them all assuming he was the father, because it felt wrong to allow such a misconception. He couldn’t say why, but when a parent still lives and wants their child, there’s no right for another to claim them as their own. Besides, he couldn’t be a father. 
  As it was, some days he felt he was doing a terrible job of being an uncle. 
  And he hadn’t thought of himself as such at first, but somewhere amid long nights sitting up, just watching labored breaths from a body almost too frail to take them, somewhere amid whispered words with doctors who’d told him to let go already, with midwives who’d urged him to keep fighting as long as his little one did, somewhere along the line of spending every day forever in the presence of the child, there’d come a day when he’d stopped worrying about his charge, and where he’d started fretting about his nephew. 
  Maybe it was those moments of clarity and wakefulness when big bright eyes would stay up at him, so curious. When floppy little ears would follow the sounds of his voice, or tiny hands would cling fast to an offered finger, toothless jaws working at its tip with little coos and warbles. He couldn’t say. But somewhere in that first winter he’d gone from a knight with a charge to an uncle with a nephew, and he’d never wanted to go back. 
  Sure, it was hard some days. Link was a sickly baby from the start, and he grew slowly. He was bright though, so very bright, like a star as his mother had said, and with every passing day those eyes so like the queen’s own had filled up with their own constellations of joy and smiles, tiny hands clapping, little feet stumbling.  
  Despite all concerns and doubts, his little Link beat the odds. 
  The child was his sunshine. He’d never been a very social man, so the company of a single boy wasn’t bad at all in his opinion. Granted, with just the two of them it had raised concerns when Link hadn’t learned to speak when he should, and for a time he’d wondered if perhaps it was for a lack of him having used words enough for the little one to know them, but in time he’d accepted that words weren’t to be had, and while some village folk would murmur that a changeling might have been traded for his precious bundle, stolen by jealous kolkiri in vengeance for their own lost little one, he’d never minded too much. He’d learned to speak with his hands from the village elder, and so Link had as well, and by that means they’d gotten along quite well until the wee one had made up his mind to try for actual sounds. 
  His old friends from the army were company at times, stopping in between missions and runs, catching a drink or a place to stay. He used to worry about exposing Link to the life he’d known among them, but in front of the child they’d all minded well, many even offering help and kindness he’d never dare to ask for. Some had children of their own, they said, others younger siblings. Regardless of the reason though, not a man would enter his home as didn’t have a kind word for his nephew, and while worry still brewed up within to see Loretta’s child among men sworn to prevent his existence, not a one had ever guessed at the truth. 
  And then everything had changed when Link turned eight. 
  He’d been talking by then. Belated though it was, words would come to him at times, although he’d prefer his hands over his tongue. Despite the murmurs of locals though, the boy was bright, sitting up more often than not with whatever book Aflon could find for him and positively devouring anything inside of them, big violet eyes near glittering in delight at the world painted for his eager mind, at the discoveries and worlds and words and stories- heavens did his little star love the stories! He had ever so much to say about what he read, and a smile brighter than the sun itself, and small though he still was, weak though he’d likely always be, Aflon adored the boy that ran to his arms at every day’s end and shared home and heart with him. 
  He’d had doubts, in the beginning, that he could settle to a quiet life, but it never felt quiet with Link so eagerly learning about it beside him, indeed, it felt like he’d only just learned what it was to be alive for himself! 
  And every day was a new adventure, teaching his nephew something new or finding himself taught some lesson or fact. Every night was settling down before the fire and holding firm against the plea of “one more page!” before smothering his precious Link in mustachioed kisses and tucking him in tight against the chill of the night. Sometimes they were disturbed with guests and his efforts would be in vain, but nine times out of ten when that did happen, Captain Bertram or Major Wilkins would take the lad back to bed and recount enough stories to finally have him dozing off against them, ready to be tucked back in again upon their departure. 
  He wouldn’t have changed that life for the world though. 
  Yet, the world seemed to have other plans. 
  Link had startled awake in the middle of a storm one night, tearfully insisting that something was wrong, that there was danger, that Zelda, the sister he didn’t know was his even then, was in danger and that she’d told him so herself.  
  To another man, it might have been nothing, just a bad dream, but Aflon had himself woken before to the sound of startled cries sounding through an army camp. He could remember when the queen would awake from a vision while traveling with himself and his brother, and many a time, Banzetta had recounted to him when it happened that he hadn’t seen. It was in their blood, the people of Hyrule would say, that those of the royal line would sometimes be given visions, often of future events and or trouble brewing beyond even the eyes of the Sheikah. That was how all the prophecies surrounding his own family had come about, how the reappearance of a hero had been foretold. 
  So, upon hearing such strange words from the mouth of his nephew, rather than beg him return to bed or otherwise ignore it, Aflon had taken it to heart. After all, he’d been reminded, looking down at the tear-stained face at his bedside, Link may be his nephew, but he was also still Loretta’s son; still born with the blood of the crown, a prince of Hyrule. 
   So, although Loretta had told him to leave Zelda’s care to herself long ago, back when she and Banzetta were still alive and before some mission had gone awry and the both were lost forever- despite the fact that the Impa chosen by the sheikah had, indeed, never once failed in her duties, he’d still chosen to attend to the fears of his nephew and brave the storm, just in case. He’d chosen to risk it, even if it did mean he’d strayed from his orders. 
  He wishes every day that he hadn’t.  
  If only he’d done as Loretta said and minded Link first and foremost, maybe nothing would have changed. If only he’d promised that in the morning they would go together- although, looking back, he knows the princess would have been dead by that time if he had. 
  He’s long come to grips with the fact that whatever he had done, there would have been no happy ending, but even so, he still hates himself that he had allowed what happened next. 
  Rather than tell him to go home, rather than protect him, shield him from the world his mother never wanted him to know, Aflon had looked into the terrified eyes of his nephew, down in the depths of the castle sewers where the boy had followed him against his orders, he’d used his final breaths to push a sword and shield into hands too small to hold them, bidding the child go to save Zelda. He’d known he was dying, he’d known Link was scared, but at that little obedient nod, he’d also known something more: 
  His death would leave Link the last of their bloodline, and a prophecy given to a queen long ago had once said that it would be the last of them that would face Ganon when next he emerged. Looking at eyes the same as Loretta’s own, albeit far kinder, he’d found himself reminded of those words, and sickeningly certain that he was witnessing the birth of that hero. His little Link who wanted to be a farmer, who didn’t know how to fight and who was still so tiny, so young, was going to become the Hero of Hyrule. 
  Though he’d been bleeding out as they spoke, he’s rather certain it was heartbreak that had been his undoing, not the wound in his side, and he’d drawn his final breath to the sound of sniffled tears. 
  Yet, it seemed his eyes had only just closed before they were opening again, pain gone and so too his young charge. At first, he’d thought perhaps he’d struck his head somehow and dreamed the whole thing, but both sword and shield were gone as well, although when he reached the end of the sewer system the prison was quiet, empty of any princess, and when he’d turned back and returned to the outside world, not only was it daylight, but it was spring. 
  It had been a late autumn storm that he’d traveled through to reach the castle. 
  He’d thought, hoped, that it was some trick, but when he’d hurried along back towards town, to the house, everyone he passed seemed to think nothing at all of the fact that they were plowing fields and making ready for a planting. They were preparing for a new year of work, as though the winter itself wasn’t supposed to be coming, as though it had already happened! And there were still bits of snow lying about. There was a dampness to the ground of a fresh fallen rain. The world itself seemed insistent it tell him that he was wrong. But if he was, then where had the time gone, and what had happened? Where was Link and why was his side unmarred as though never an ax had plowed through it? 
  His feet had all but flown down the paths, paying little or no mind to those he passed or the startled shouts they sent his way. His goal had been set; his destination desperately darted towards. 
  The house looked entirely normal when he’d finally reached it. The orchard was beginning to brighten, not yet blooming, still expecting another snap of cold before the season truly sprung, but they were well along to blossoming. The path was clear, nothing and no one on it, and when he’d come to the door, he’d found it locked up tight. As it should be, as he’d left it, as he’d taught Link to leave it. He still had his key with him even though his sword was missing, and though his hands trembled he’d still managed to fish it out and, with some struggle, had gotten it into the lock. 
  The house looked the same as it had when he left. Clean as a whistle because a soldier’s training still lingered with him even after eight years and that expectation was one that he’d taught Link to hold himself to as well. Their beds were made sloppily, as though the boy had tried to do it for him after he’d left and maybe given up after, or else simply been unable to see, from his height, how crookedly the blankets had been lain. Most notably though, Aflon had noted, there wasn’t much in the way of dust. There wasn’t much in the way of dirt. The only difference that he found was that the pot, which he kept by the door for spare rupees, was empty. 
  His breath had evened some at that. A clean house meant someone had minded it, and missing rupees were nothing if it meant Link hadn’t been left to starve in the unidentified period of time where Aflon had been absent. 
  Or so he had thought. 
  It was two days later, two days he’d spent searching the whole neighborhood, quite at the end of his rope in fear as Link hadn’t been seen at all in that time, when at last he’d laid eyes on his nephew. 
  Or rather, when he’d met the hero. 
  Because the wary creature that entered the cottage door and froze, hand on a sword and dark eyes so large in a thin face, was not his nephew. Because his nephew would have run to him with maybe a few tears or a cheer, jumping into his arms with a hug rather than start and draw a blade the moment Aflon made a motion towards him. 
  Link didn’t fear him. 
  The boy who came to him in Link’s stead did. 
  When he voiced his worries to the women who’d helped to mind the lad over the years, some would say perhaps he’d been taken, changed for a changeling by the forest children, at last getting their hands on a hero to replace their own. Others just shook their heads and sighed, unwilling to explain why. 
  He’d known though that the child in his home wasn’t a changeling though. No, because that child had eyes every bit as much like the late queen. Eyes that knew war, and battle, that bore the burden of a kingdom which dragged on too small shoulders, eyes that Knew, that Looked, and eyes that Saw people for what they were, not simply what they’d claim to be. There was no doubt, looking at that boy, that he was Loretta’s son. 
  But he wasn’t Aflon’s nephew. 
  Link was bright and bubbly, quieter by nature but prone to prattling when the mood took him. The silent little thing that lived in his house, wary like a rabbit hunted and hidden, was a stark contrast. Link liked to travel with him, going to town for any errands and skip-tripping along the path at his side, getting distracted by small creatures and ever full of questions.  
  Not only did the hero avoid going out of the house when he could, preferring instead to stay inside behind a locked-up door and shuttered windows, but when he did go out, the lad was ever scanning the world, ever watching the sky and the path as though expecting an attack from one or the other. He didn’t stray off towards sudden changes, curious ears cocked, he put a hand to his shoulder and looked for a blade. 
  The child that came back to him held the manner and look of an old knight, not a child too young to even be a page, and it disturbed him. He tried though. This was Loretta’s son, the prince of Hyrule, and as he’d later learned, the boy had indeed become the country’s hero. Not that the boy had told him that himself. No, the child in his home didn’t speak, tongue faltering and sounds stuttering before hands would lift to answer questions in as few words as possible. 
  Two of his fingers were crooked, Aflon realized, watching him, heart aching. Two fingers and, in those first days, he’d favor one leg over the other. 
  He wanted to help, but the boy was wary of touch, starting and panicking as a first reaction if he didn’t see it coming and wincing even when he could. He kept a wide space between himself and anyone, a swords-distance, Aflon realized after a spell, although as for the blade he carried, well, that had disappeared after the first few weeks. It wasn’t the sword he’d handed to his nephew though. The sword that the hero held was unfamiliar to him; radiant, beautiful, masterfully forged so that his own blade paled in comparison. His was absent, and the one time he had asked what happened to it, he’d just watched violet eyes fall and shoulders hunch, and immediately changed the subject. 
  It was hard. His nephew looked the same as Loretta’s child, same face, same form, same stature, although time had made her changes too. The boy was scrawny, and though he had hoped his lost rupees meant his charge was still fed even with him gone, he’d come to doubt that. 
  He wasn’t sure what to make of it when, at learning of his own return, one of the neighbors down the road had invited them both for dinner, and the hero child had only stared at his own plate, stirring the food around but not eating. He’d dismissed it at first, but soon it became abundantly clear that the hero would not eat food he couldn’t watch being prepared, not unless it was a meal offered by Aflon himself, and, to his own surprise, Dolly, the village elder’s wife. 
  Somehow, both she, Dolly, and Sahasralah, the elder, were the only ones who seemed unaffected by how his charge had changed. In fact, more than once, Aflon would find himself watching, wistful, as the two would speak with or even handle the hero with not a thing done to show fear in response. Simple acceptance met their motions, their words, and at times he’d almost been tempted to ask if maybe the boy that wore Link’s face wanted to stay with them instead, as he seemed so much more at peace in their home. 
  He didn’t though. He’d sworn a vow, a vow to do his duty to his prince, to his queen, and though he wasn’t certain if Loretta’s spirit would haunt him if he failed that, he wasn’t exactly keen to find out. 
  He couldn’t leave her son with strangers, with people she didn’t know or trust. Still, as the days passed, house silent as a crypt and the boy inside nearly the corpse it housed, he’d found the temptation growing daily. 
  At night as he’d blow out the lamps, now knowing full well not to approach his charge in the dark and sometimes fearing to even look at him (because what looked back was a slip of a shade with eyes glinting red like a rabbit’s in the low light of the hearth and by all means hardly human) he’d fight his own mind on the matter. Stay or leave, linger with what wasn’t any longer what he’d sword to protect, the child that wasn’t his nephew but was a hero. 
  Loretta said to protect him, he’d remind himself as he lay beneath the blankets. Yet, small hands knew the touch of blood, and the boy who’d wandered in at his door knew a blade like knights four times his age still hadn’t learned. Lying there at night, he’d wonder to himself, what was there left to protect the boy from? Loretta’s child already had seen everything she wanted to shield him from, so what was even the point, when there was no more innocence to shield? 
  It was that thinking, after weeks, months, that had led to him gathering up clothing and books, toys left behind because the person who would leave with him wasn’t a child but a young soldier, so what did they matter? He’d packed things up, watched the hero slip to his side to help, dutifully but silently gathering Link’s clothes and folding them up with the same careful effort Link always did, ending with the same misshapen result, and tucking them away like they would do every summer for the trip back to his own childhood home. 
  He’d locked the door tight that summer. Shut up the shutters and minded that nothing was left untended, no mess within or without. Long ears had cocked sideways, big eyes watching, curious, but nothing was said with scarred hands holding their bags while he prepared the house for their departure. 
  Most summers, he’d take Link down to Lon-Lon so the boy could stay with his grandparents and Aflon could attend to the heavier tasks of their orchard without worrying over minding the lad or leaving him feeling alone. This year though, after Mother had ushered the boy within the ranch house, shooting him a startled stare over his shoulder, he’d not gone back to the cottage. 
  Aflon Lon had, instead, taken to the road. 
  Guilt ate at him, but he’d known there was no going back.  
  He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t return to the house. It wasn’t home without the laughter of his nephew, without bright eyes and brighter smiles. It wasn’t home without a presence at his side working away at the trees, muttering and talking at times to the birds who’d stop to watch them in their labor. It wasn’t home without Link, and Link- or at least the boy he knew, was gone. 
 So, he’d wandered Hyrule. He hadn’t traveled in a long while, but it was easy to take up again, to wander the roads by day and make camp at night. He stopped in old haunts he used to visit as a knight to see how they had changed, and he’d thought nothing of his wanderings. After all, it was summer; the summers were always free for him to do what he wanted. It was when autumn had begun to show her colors that guilt had well and truly began to build up inside of him. 
  Link would be waiting at the gates of Lon-Lon, watching the road for his uncle to come and bring him home. He knew it wouldn’t be the same eager stare, ears crooked and head rested on folded arms as the boy would perch on the rungs of the fence, leaning his whole weight against it and keeping eyes and ears on the road. The hero child would likely sit with more wariness, but despite all changes there was no doubt in Aflon’s mind that he’d wait all the same. 
  The difference though, the real one, was that this time, Aflon couldn’t come back. He couldn’t. 
  He couldn’t go back to that house, that child, he couldn’t live like that forever, with the shade of what should have been. 
  Mother and Father though, they could handle a soldier boy. They’d handled Banzetta after his first battles, they’d know how to work with Loretta, and if they could manage the parents of his own charge, he was sure theft were the best suited to handling a young hero. Not only that, but they were safe, they were good, and they’d never hurt Link for the circumstances of his birth. They would be better to him than Aflon could be, and given time, he was sure the hero would settle there again, into a life with a knight, a lady, a history of heroes all around him on the walls and swords ready for his hands; the life he’d taken on, but one Aflon couldn’t watch lived. 
  As for himself, he’d wander. He’d travel, he’d embrace the world he’d had to forsake for a small bundle. By winter, he’d gone further south than he’d ever strayed, gone where word of the hero didn’t reach, where peace and simplicity beckoned. He’d meant to resist, but an evening in a bar with a pretty woman at his side had changed that. 
  “Here alone, stranger?” She’d asked, voice thick with a drawl and gaze bold as she’d settled beside him. 
  He’d never been a bold man, quiet by nature, so he’d nodded. 
  She hadn’t been dissuaded, motioning to the barkeep for a round for them both before striking up chatter, asking where he was from? What brought him here? Where was he going? And his answer of course had been that he was from central Hyrule, seeking his fate and unsure where he’d find it. 
  “D’ya have a family?” She’d asked, honest and friendly. “Can’t be easy for them not knowing where you are.” 
  And he’d hesitated, just a moment, before offering a stilted smile and answering “just my parents and a sister.” 
  A sister who’d left, he told her, to marry a man from across the border, who visited at times but was busy with a farm and a family of her own, much like his own parents were even in their older age. He’d said nothing of a nephew, just the same as he’d left out the dead older brother and sister-in-law. 
  He’d lingered in that town for a few more days, and she’d been at the pub each night, coming to join him when he entered and striking up chatter until they were both looking forwards to the evening when they’d happen upon each other. Somehow though, that had turned to arranged meetings, to wandering, to talking, to a kiss that left him speechless and a courtship that left him stumbling and eager like he hadn’t been since he was just a boy. 
  He’d wondered how she hadn’t had a fella before he’d come, but he’d thanked the heavens for it too, especially when he’d proposed, when they’d taken a home together, when they’d made the choice to live life together. 
  It was easy to forget, for a while, in that early bliss, in the whirlwind of emotions, what he’d left behind to find it. He was reminded though when their own little one was born, when a little boy had been laid in his arms and he’d started when blue shone back at him rather than violet. 
  Liza would laugh and tease him, calling him a worrywart when he fussed. She’d say it was like he’d never held a child before; he was so cautious. She’d remind him to relax, when she found him sitting up and watching the wee one slumber, because he was healthy, he was fine, they needn’t worry so much because while babies need care, they won’t break if you breathed wrong. 
  Aflon couldn’t help himself though. 
  He was used to looking for signs of trouble, for any hint of illness. He’d started when their boy had started babbling, started talking, at only two years old. Liza had said that was normal, that they wouldn’t stay babies forever, that it was part of growing up. Still, he’d found himself signing more than speaking with the boy, and more times than he could count, the wrong name had slipped to his lips. 
  Their son had dark hair like his mother, blue eyes like Aflon himself, but it always startled him to see them. It was supposed to be strawberry blonde, with starlit skies veiled beneath. He expected a slip of a child who was quiet but eager, not a loud little thing that ran and darted and climbed and made him panic because Link was fragile! …except this wasn’t Link, and his son was strong, like him, like Liza. His son was bold, loud, like a little boy was supposed to be, not timid and wary like the boy he’d left behind. 
  It never stopped catching him off guard though. Their little Rusl didn’t care anything for books, or reading, or sitting still. He was always off with other children of the village; he was always climbing trees and ‘sword fighting’ other young ones with twigs they’d find on the roadside. 
  He was a normal boy, all told, but somehow that was more jarring, in so many ways, than if he hadn’t been. Because Aflon had never dealt with a normal boy, he realized. Even Before, his Link hadn’t been normal, he just hadn’t known to see it. 
  It was strange, how often Rusl would stare, watching people without those hesitant little falters that Link always had when someone met his eyes. He didn’t pay attention to the little details, didn’t care to watch the sky or the sun. He didn’t care about stars or tiny creatures or pouring over books the same size as himself for hours. 
  The one thing that the two boys did have in common though, was a love for stories of heroes. 
  Link used to bury his little button nose in the volumes of history that told of the Hero of the Four Sword, the Hero of the Skies: the chosen hero. Rusl didn’t read much, but one day he’d come back to their home with Liza after errands, and he’d had nothing on his mind except some story he’d heard about the Hero of Legends. 
  Aflon had paused in making dinner, frowning because he’d never heard of that hero before, because Link never spoke of that title. 
  “Who is the Hero of Legend?” He’d asked, turning to the dirt streaked four-year-old at the door. 
  “He’s who killed Ganon and saved Princess Zelda!” Had been his answer. “He’s so cool, I wish he’d come to our village so I could meet him!” 
  He hadn’t realized, until Liza had darted across the kitchen and scooped up the pot, that their meal had boiled over, or that it’d burned his hand when it did. 
  Rusl and his friends would talk about Link, pretend to be Link, say they wanted to be heroes like him, be knights, be brave. He’d be in the village and stories would sound, gossip between neighbors recounting the latest exploits of the Hero of Legend. He’d killed Ganon twice, he’d traveled the world, he’d saved Labrynna from a witch, he’d fought some tyrant down in Holodrum. Everyone had a different rumor that they’d heard, everyone a different thought on what the hero might be like. Despite all they’d chatter about though, all he could see in his own mind was a boy with heavy eyes and crooked fingers that trembled when he used them to talk. 
  Aflon had gone home that day, after hearing all the chatter, all the stories, all the news that had come down to them from some merchant who’d strayed to town, and he’d told Liza he was taking a trip. 
  “Just for a few days,” he’d said, wrapping arms around her and trying to smile, even though he’d known she’d see past it. “Just to see how my parents are doing.” He’d left out the part about his old house, about the child he’d raised inside it. He knew it was wrong, felt guilt eat away each time his mind turned there, but he’d never let slip about the boy he’d raised before meeting her, the child he’d left behind. 
  Link, as he’d known him, was gone, why speak of what wasn’t there any longer? Why drag everything he’d tried to leave behind into the perfection he’d stumbled himself into? 
  Still, he needed to know, needed to see, and maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted to see Loretta’s boy again, just to assure himself that he was alright, because try as he might, much as he wished, worry still plagued his heart for the little soldier boy he’d left at Lon-Lon. 
  He’d stopped by the house first, if only out of curiosity for what had become of it. It had been years, had the village elders sold it? Left it be? He didn’t know, so he’d taken the road around Kakariko, hood up as he passed old neighbors, boots stumbling some on a path he knew better than that back to his own wife and child. 
  The cottage hadn’t changed a bit. Standing on the path, apple trees shivering in a slight breeze, he’d almost felt a decade younger, almost tricked himself into thinking he’d need only open the old wood door, the door whose key still sat heavy in his pocket, and a bright little face would whip around to meet him, gap-toothed grin his welcome home as feet would pit-patter across the worn-out floors. Maybe it was that image that tricked his feet into walking, following a path altered only by shade of trees grown taller in his absence, their fruit hanging heavy but not yet ready to be plucked.  
  It’d be cider making season soon, he’d mused to himself, hand digging through his pocket for a key he couldn’t name why he still carried. Absently, he wondered if the old press was still down in the basement, if Link- because it must be Link- had minded to keep it oiled and tended, or if he’d left off using it. After all, the former knight chuckled, the boy couldn’t even turn the handle fully on his own, now could he? 
  His mind had been so caught in his thoughts he hadn’t been minding his surroundings, pushing the door open after a moment’s struggle (the key stuck more than it once used to) and moving to enter his old home. He hadn’t expected to be immediately whacked over the head, nor, when he’d picked himself up again, to find himself face to… face(?) with a masked figure. 
  “We aren’t open!” The purple clad individual had declared, mallet in hand, and a small creature with wings- which could in no ways be considered a bird- fluttering about at his shoulders, squawking and hissing something terrible. “And if you thought you could break in, you’re dead wrong!” 
  Aflon had blinked, slowly, and then started, gaze flying about the house briefly. 
  It wasn’t changed, not really. Pictures were all taken down and boxes were tucked against the walls, but the couch, the rocking chair, the china-cabinet, it was all still there, still in the same places, now with new stains and scuffs, but he could recognize them all the same. Really, the only major difference was the desk near the door scattered over with glittering items and objects, little price tags set before them in poor mimicry of a shop. 
  He wasn’t sure if the purple clad figure was meant to be here or not, but given that the house still technically belonged to him, he’d been more than slightly caught off guard. 
  “I’m not here for a shop, I- who are you?” 
  “Who are you?” The apparent merchant had demanded in answer, face shielded behind a hood that looked like it was meant to resemble a very, very odd face. “And why are you here?” Their voice was trembling slightly, but they stood firm despite. 
  “I live- or, well…” he’d paused, picking himself up and dusting himself off, “I used to live here. This was my house- still is actually, I’ve just been away.” 
  Despite not being able to see the merchant’s eyes, he could feel the apprehension in their gaze, weighty as it was as they looked up at him, one hand on their hip and the other holding fast to their oversized mallet. “You must have the wrong house; this one belongs to Mister Hero.” 
  Oh. 
  “You mean Link?” 
  “You know him?” Their head cocked on one side, hood following with a flap of long ear-like attachments. 
  Aflon had nodded briefly. “Do you?” 
  “Of course!” And suddenly the mallet was gone, the figure gesturing about with a cheery chirp now entering their tone. “He’s my housemate! Lets me stay here, keep up the shop while he’s gone and all that lovely sort of thing. Didn’t realize he had a landlord himself though! So terribly sorry if he’s been stiffing you on rent, he’s been out of town for forever now, you see.” 
  He’d nodded. He hadn’t known what better to do. 
  The stranger had introduced themselves as Ravio, offered to show him their wares, but when asked about Link had firmly insisted that he knew nothing more than that the hero was off on some mission for the crown or something and that he was just keeping the house in order for him. 
  It had been all Aflon needed to hear though. Link was still alive, apparently having embraced his role as the hero, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. He must have left the farm at some time, but seeing as he was approaching fifteen it made sense. He’d been rather eager for his freedom at that age too. 
  The kid would be fine, he’d told himself, walking back to Liza and Rusl. Link didn’t need him; he was getting along fine. 
  Somehow, even with the whole trip home to convince himself of that, it hadn’t worked. In fact, now he couldn’t stop thinking about it, slipping more with Rusl, drifting off at home. Liza wouldn’t let him in the kitchen anymore, insisting that he was too prone to forgetting what he’d been doing, too likely to hurt himself because he wasn’t paying attention. She’d begged him to see a doctor, or talk to her, but he’d waved it off, saying he was just tired, just thinking, he was fine; he just needed to rest. He knew she didn’t believe him, but she’d stopped asking at least. 
  If only he could stop himself thinking as easily. 
  But as the months and seasons passed, more worry had grown, more thoughts. 
  Link is turning sixteen this winter. Sixteen years since he’d stood on the edge of the wood with the queen of Hyrule and taken her child in his arms, promising to guard him. Only eight of those years were spent keeping that promise, only half, and he’d startled when he’d realized it. Even now, he’s left wondering, as he braves a storm so like that night that robbed him of his precious nephew, has Link changed? What is he like now? Did he ever grow into those too-big ears of his? Did he learn to look men in the eyes when he spoke to them, to steady his voice and hold himself with surety and not simply just skill? 
 His boy will be becoming a man, and he doesn’t know what that man looks like. 
  Or rather, he didn’t. 
  Because when he comes home, drenched to the bone but with a fresh kill in hand, ready for dinner, ready for him to show Rusl how to skin and prepare it, he finds his house full of strangers, his wide smiling and telling him that they’re travelers, more boys than men, and they need a place to stay but the inn is so far. Of course he greets them, of course he looks at men in armor and offers a smile like he would to his old brothers in arms, welcomes them to his home. 
  He didn’t realize, until just now, how much he missed hosting people fresh off the path he once used to follow, how much he missed their stories or sharing a smoke or a drink with men like himself once in a while, not just farming folk (nice as they are). 
  He’s midway to offering the a warm welcome when his eyes stray to the fire and he finds himself freezing. 
  Great violet eyes, shaded heavy under strawberry blonde, plastered down by dampness and the storm that howls just outside the door, stare up at him. 
  His breath catches. 
  It’s Loretta’s face, freckled and fine, fae-like features and faint traces of scars, upturned nose and steady jaw, but the galaxies that gaze out from violet pools aren’t the queen, even if everything else about the figure at his fire is. No, those stars are all Link, all his nephew, and the weight of that stare, not sure and stern like his sister-in-law but yet also not startled and wide like that day eight years back when he’d first met the hero. 
  In the same breath, it’s the dead queen and the young hero that sits before him. It’s Loretta with accusing eyes, fire burning in their depths as his own words ring in his head, sounding a promise, a vow to do as she’d said, to guard and guide her son, to protect him, no matter what. Yet it’s Link, it’s that little boy with eyes that know a demon’s smile and remember him bathed in his own blood. 
  If his heart had failed him when he’d first put a sword in the hands of his nephew, it’s ache is a thousand times worse as he stares at the result of that action, even as it refuses to cease in an endless flutter inside him as shock touches the face of the little soldier boy he’d left behind eight years ago, but who’s somehow, some way, found his way back before Aflon’s fire, staring up at him with the same startled gaze that shook and broke his world so long ago. 
  His knees hit the floor even as Liza cries out in concern, hands fluttering about him, but he can’t lift his eyes to look at her. Instead, he’s trapped in an endless expanse of dying stars. 
  “Link.” 
  Long ears, still too big for his nephew, turn his way at the sound of his voice, the answer coming out breathless and disbelieving. “Uncle?” 
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sharkgirldick · 11 hours ago
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A knight and a squire
Duty and loyalty are everything to a knight. I am sworn to no lord, no kingdom, only the people. Where the evil prey upon those who cannot defend themselves, I arrive with sword in hand. I am no legend, nor even a local hero. I would prefer if the lands never learn my name, no stories or songs written of my battles. I do what must be done, because it must be done.
Yet, still, I find myself with a squire. She is like I am, resolute in her desire to fulfil her duty. She is much like I was as well, unsure of her place in the world and just what justice and honor mean to her. She had come of age only the year before I came to her village to kill a beast that was plaguing their livestock. In the months since then, she had become a welcome companion on the lonely roads of the kingdom.
The night was cold, a perfect chill, our breath steaming away from us as we sparred. Her form had improved immensely in the last few weeks, though her footwork was still stiff. To punctuate that, I went in for a simple overhead swing, stepping slightly to the side to indicate what I planned to do. She brought her blade up to block, but stood in place. I weaved to the side, twisting my blade past her simple guard, baring the tip against her throat.
"Pay attention to more than just an enemy's blade. Watch where they move, and move with them." She looked at me for a moment, then I pulled my sword away from her. Cold steel no longer near her flushed skin, she nodded.
Later, our daily drills and sparring complete, we stat by the fire, a simply stew cooking over a pot.
"Sir?"
"We aren't strangers any longer, Grace. Just call me Valeria."
"M-Miss Valeria?" It would have to do. She was much too formal, even when we spoke in private like this.
"Yes?"
"Were you a knight of the Order?"
"No. I trained under a paladin for a time, but I was to be sworn to the realm when my training was complete."
"But you have told me you did not take an oath."
"In a way. On the day I was to be sworn, I instead made my own vow, and became an Errant. That has been my life for the past six years."
"So…" She hesitated, and I watched her from the corner of my eyes as I stirred the stew. "So you are allowed to take a spouse?"
I had to stifle a laugh. "Afraid you will never lay with someone, is that it?"
"No! I, just… I was curious if you had ever thought of marrying and starting a family."
"I have had my share of bed companions, especially on cold nights like we find ourselves in. I don't think I'll ever settle down anywhere, and a spouse… Maybe if they were also a knight and took to traveling with me. But many knights also dream of retirement." She lingered on that for a moment. "Allow me to respond in kind with my own question." She looked a bit startled, but nodded. "When you dream of someone in bed with you, do you think of a man or a woman? Or perhaps someone who is neither?"
Her cheeks, already red from the cold, turned even more crimson.
Looking away into the dark of the woods, she said "A woman."
"How many young ladies did you get the chance to romance before you left your village? I believe the innkeeper's girl seemed somewhat keen on you. At least, she was rather disappointed when you left with me."
She worked her mouth a bit, face still incredibly flushed, then, in a small voice. "No one. You are the only woman I have spent any time alone with." She looked up at me, and I turned my attention from the pot to her. In the moment that our eyes locked, I understood.
A little mischief crept into me, alongside a sly grin creeping onto my face. I moved the pot from the fire, satisfied with it. It wouldn't take too long to cool in this weather.
I moved closer to Grace, watching her intently now. "You are my student." I said, plainly. A nod from her. "Then… Would you like me to instruct you in love as well?"
"I…"
I pushed on before she could protest. "It wouldn't sit well with me if you didn't have the skills to woo a woman who catches your eye, even more so if you were completely in the dark once you could lay with her. In a way I've taken the opportunity for you to learn that on your own." I leaned in closer to her, the pale fog of our breath mingling together now.
"Sir, I wouldn't be-"
"Valeria."
"V-Valeria…" The little bit of confidence she had to properly argue withered away as she said my name. "Miss Valeria, I couldn't. You are… We are… I."
Slowly, gently, I cupped her face with my hand, and her words completely petered out. "Grace. The food will get too cold, soon. We only have a few moments. Would you like to kiss me?"
Her eyes went wide, her cheek as warm as the fire beside us against my hand. Taking a steadying breath, she nodded.
I leaned in, eyes closing, and I stole away my squire's first kiss. She was awkward, both from lack of experience and nerves, but she was warm, and I can't deny that I could feel my body react from almost a full year without this kind of intimacy.
I broke the kiss and leaned back, my hand sliding away from her face. She simply sat there, swaying, with her eyes closed. Unceremoniously, I stood and gathered our bowls and spoons, giving both of us a generous portion of our dinner, then set the pot aside to clean. I handed her our meal, then sat. We ate in a comfortable silence.
I promised her I would add romance and intimacy to her lessons, much to her embarrassment. I would have to cultivate her even more, my burden to my squire only growing.
Of course, all I could do was fulfil that obligation. After all, duty and loyalty are everything to a knight.
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brooklyncircus · 10 hours ago
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"Until you..." part. 7.
Hiromi Higuruma x reader.
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Until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma had never thought that the appearance of a new person could bring about small, successive changes in his life. But the truth was that things were changing, transforming, evolving. Or, on second thought, maybe it was only him changing, and that was affecting his world in general.
And he knew this was because of someone.
Because of you.
When he arrived at work at eight in the morning, punctual as always, to that large, multi-story building, modern and full of windows, he was greeted by several things he was already used to.
One of those things was the excessive number of people walking around the entrance from one side to another, with papers, with things, with people. Many people, in fact. So many that he felt a strange sensation forming in his throat and stomach, something like the urge to vomit.
Another of those things was the sound of muttered curses, yawns, the smell of cheap coffee, and the usual clacking of keyboards from the floor above. Even the monotonous, bored greeting from the receptionist, who, as always, was dressed in an extravagant way and looked like a Christmas tree.
But he didn’t think today would be out of the ordinary. Oh no, not at all. And so he continued walking toward the elevator with the same serious and professional expression as always, his hair slightly disheveled, giving him a strangely elegant look, and his briefcase swinging by his right leg.
Or so he thought, until the receptionist realized who she had greeted and suddenly stood up from her chair, behind the huge desk she was immersed in. She made a few strange hand gestures at Hiromi, which he didn’t see, until the words came out. "Dr. Hiromi. Sir, wait!"
Hiromi was in a good mood, having seen you that very morning, having accompanied you to the library, having talked to you. Everything kept him in a good mood. But, having now stepped into that building, the law firm where he worked, that good mood blended with the usual boredom and frustration of the workday.
He turned around slowly, as if taking his time. He looked at the receptionist with a neutral, expressionless face. He checked the time on the watch adorning his wrist and realized that, indeed, he had arrived on time. That’s why he was rather confused. "Yes, miss?"
The receptionist adjusted her glasses, round and big and yellow like a slice of pineapple. "The prosecutor, Dr. Forger, wants to see you in his office. He told me to let you know as soon as you arrived," she swallowed nervously. "He said it was important."
Forger.
He closed his eyes upon hearing that name and sighed, more tired than ever. "God, give me patience," he thought.
But when he opened his eyes, he thanked the woman for her hospitality and headed to the elevator again, now intending to go to Forger’s office.
Don’t get him wrong. Hiromi and Forger had a good relationship (the latter used to loudly proclaim they were "besto friendos," while he would insist their relationship was entirely work-related and professional, as if trying to forget they had shared a room when they went to university and studied law together, long ago), but their personalities were complete opposites. And although Forger held a higher position than him (Hiromi had declined it because he wanted to continue practicing as a lawyer), it didn’t lessen the affection the prosecutor had for him.
That’s why, as he walked across the white ceramic floor, he couldn’t help but dissociate and think of you. Should he have asked you what you were studying at university? Which subject you liked the most, which one the least? Why you had chosen it and all that? He wrinkled his nose, conflicted. Maybe yes, maybe no. But he was at peace knowing he hadn’t pressured you or anything like that at any time, especially with such personal questions. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder… Should he have done it? It’s the normal thing to ask in a conversation between two people.
"Screw it," he thought in front of Forger’s office door. He bit his lower lip slightly and knocked three times before opening it.
Forger greeted him with his typical radiant smile, looking like an American in a Hollywood movie (despite being Japanese) and the usual good humor that made Hiromi suppress the urge to roll his eyes. "Hiro Higuruma!" the man greeted him, motioning to the chair in front of his desk for him to sit. "There’s a lot to talk about."
But Hiromi, not in the mood to put up with Forger’s nonsense, cut him off abruptly. "I have several pending cases, things to sort out in my life, and people who need defending. I won’t stay here long, so say what you want."
If Forger hadn’t known Hiromi since they were both eighteen and wasn’t familiar with his grumpy old-man humor from practically forever, he would have felt deeply hurt and offended, but he didn’t.
"In a few weeks, approximately a month and a half, there will be offers for new lawyers, fresh out of university, wanting to join this firm. And, besides that, there are several mock trials happening, just to get them prepared for the future." The man clicked his tongue approvingly. "Nothing too serious, but I was invited to attend. And I want you to come with me."
"No," Hiromi replied bluntly and coldly.
"I wasn’t asking you ‘please,’ Higuruma," Forger said, looking at him the way a parent would look at a rebellious child.
Hiromi didn’t respond.
Forger raised an eyebrow. "You owe me."
Hiromi sighed, but he knew the man was right and that he wouldn’t be able to say no for long. "Send me the date, place, and time, and I’ll be there."
"Damn bastard," he thought as he walked down the hall minutes later, heading to his office. But, although he would never admit it, a small smile crept onto his lips.
After reflecting for a while, sitting in his office, he regretted not asking you what degree you were pursuing at university. What if you were studying law? That was another reason he had accepted Forger’s proposal, because he felt something. If you were, it was obvious that you would be practicing or rehearsing trials.
He knew it was silly, naive, and all that, but… Is hope not the last thing to die? Maybe he’d be lucky and see you there, rehearsing some trial. Or tomorrow on the train again.
He shook his head and sighed, as he grabbed his papers and read what he had started working on the day before.
And until you arrived, Hiromi Higuruma had never thought that the appearance of a new person could bring about small, successive changes in his life. But the truth was that things were changing, transforming, evolving. Or, on second thought, maybe it was only him changing, and that was affecting his world in general.
And he knew this was because of someone.
Because of you.
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Adam didn't have it in himself to hook up with anyone or even kiss someone else. His love for Lucifer was just too strong even after the breakup.
If you could even call it that. They were just having sex.
When Eve went to the bathroom that's when Lucifer made his move.
Lucifer: Adam?
Adam jumped, his eyes watered: L-Lu?
Lucifer: Adam please, I need to-
Adam stood up: What are you even doing here!? I came here to get away from you! We didn't have a lot but you threw away what we had.
Lucifer: Look, I know you're pregnant and I-
Adam: You what!? Want me to get rid of it? Well too fucking bad! Fuck you and your image!
Lucifer: What!? No! Adam please I just want-
A hand came down on his shoulder, Eve was glaring at him as Adam burst into tears.
Eve: Can't you leave him alone long enough to heal? Let's go home Addie.
Adam took her hand and they went back home where Adam cried for the rest of the night.
Lucifer stood there, heart broken: .... I'm sorry .....
About a month later everyone at AAA was still feeling the emotional blow of Adam and Lucifer's split. He had been sulking in his office and Cain had been made to glue devil horns into rubber ducks and then burn them.
There were so many.
Lute sighed, Cain looked exhausted but he loved his dad and wouldn't stop. Emily was freaking out over their financial situation.
Apparently Adam, aside from buying all those rubber ducks to burn, bought vintage guitars that were just sitting in boxes.
Lute went into his office where Adam was sitting on a beanbag chair, a tub of mint chip ice cream on his lap, and Whipped cream in one hand a spoon in the other.
Lute: Sir?
Adam: Go away!
She would not leave her best friend.
Lute turned off the tv, apparently he was watching trashy human world porn that had something to do with ghosts.
Lute: Adam, all this over a break up? It's been a month.
Adam: It was not a break up! You need a relationship for that and we never had that.......
His lip quivered and eyes watered.
Adam: And we never will......
Stoliz Au
Adam sipped on his coffee out of his "Hell's Greatest Boss" mug as he overlooked Pentagram City. His workers, Lute and Emily were at the conference table trying to figure out ways they could get to the human world.
Adams oldest son Cain sat there on his phone looking very interested in anything that had to do with work.
Here at Adams Angelic Assassination, they started out by protecting sinners. Either from other demons or from angels on extermination day.
Turns out people would pay a pretty penny to have someone on earth killed.
It has been a few years since Adam was cast out of heaven for questioning things. They took his halo and his powers before casting him down.
Lute and Emily didn't want him to be alone in Hell so they willingly fell. Adam reconnected with his son who was homeless at the time.
They all needed money so that's when Adam came up with the idea for his business.
Lute sighed: It's impossible! There is no way to the human releam without our angelic powers.
Emily: It's okay Lute, we'll figure something out.
Adam turned: She's right Lute! And I actually have a plan.
Lute: You do?
Adam: I do. I know of a book and where I can get it. It's our ticket up top.
Yes Adam knew where to get this book, but could he sneak in and out without being noticed.
Emily: How will you get it?
Adam smirked: Leave it to me and my stealth skills.
*Adam scouted out the royal palace, he knew the largest collection of demonic grimoires were housed in the Morningstar palace including one that could take him to Earth, thankfully Adam still had his angel wings so he fly over the gates surrounding the palace, there was a party going on, his eyes went to Lucifer who was off in a corner drinking while Lilith was talking with her friends, Adam’s heart filled with longing over seeing his first love, but Adam was here for a reason and it was to get a spell book, he hid his wings thankful for the all black outfit he took to wearing now that he could use to hide in the shadows, but before he could open the door to Lucifer’s room, he was tackled by a pair of hellhounds who dragged him to Lucifer*
Adam: Shit.
*Lucifer was chugging down a bottle of absinthe when he saw a pair of hellhound guards drag Adam in front of him, Adam had a sheepish smile on his face and he couldn’t help but realize how handsome Adam was, in fact he had a strong desire to pin Adam to the bed and have his way with him since he hadn’t shared a bed with Lilith since Charlie was born*
Hellhound 1: We saw this man trying to sneak into your room.
Hellhound 2: What should we do with him?
Lucifer: I will deal with him myself, don’t tell anyone what you saw.
*the hellhounds handed Adam over to Lucifer and the former angel reluctantly followed Lucifer up to his room, once they were alone Adam became nervous*
Adam: Look, I can explain-
*Adam’s words were cut off when Lucifer kissed him on the lips, Adam found himself returning the kiss enjoying the feeling*
Lucifer: I missed you so much Adam, in more ways than one.
*Adam felt himself getting wet with desire, one of the punishments was they took away Adam’s favorite thing, his dick, before throwing him out of Heaven and now he had a pussy instead much to his annoyance, but now he saw a way to use it to his advantage and it would give him something he had always wanted*
Adam: You realized what you missed out on and now you can have it.
Lucifer: Yes.
*they ended up on the bed, they kissed as they frantically pulled off their clothes down to their underwear, Lucifer rubbed the underwear covered erection against the wet area of Adam’s panties, they pulled off their underwear and Lucifer slid into Adam, Adam had to hold back a moan of pleasure by biting into Lucifer’s shoulder which made Lucifer even more turned on, Adam moved his hips along with Lucifer’s thrusts, after a long and passionate dance on the bed, Adam climaxed and Lucifer cum inside of Adam*
Lucifer: That was amazing, is there a way I could convince you to come around more often.
Adam: Maybe if you let me borrow a grimoire to help me with my new job.
Lucifer: Done, but you must come back to me at least once a month. How about full moon night?
*Lucifer had the grimoire appear in Adam’s hands*
Adam: Sounds perfect to me.
*they both fell asleep, Lucifer holding Adam and Adam holding the grimoire, in the morning Adam had to get dressed and sneak out, but before he could sprout his wings, he fell off the balcony and onto the table which had Lilith having breakfast with her friends.
Adam: Sorry, I fucked your husband….. actually I’m not sorry.
*Adam sprouted his wings and flew off*
@things-arent-what-they-seem66
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v10l3tz-thmblr · 5 days ago
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Slow dance with you.
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Now this is crazy with no heterosexual explanation. Told yall this would be my fruitiest art 😩
Oh and I think Espio should run !
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ja3hwa · 3 months ago
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♡ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐧 || 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : a new book shop had opened on the block, and a certain marfia leader was interested in the sweet little owner.
『Word count』 : 9.01k
-> Genre: Mafia. Smut. Romance.
Pairing: Perv!MobBoss!Yunho! X Librarian!Reader
[Warnings] : Pervy Yunho. Like I mean this man is so horny for the reader it's crazy. Really shameless flirting and a lot of flustered most likely cringe moments but it's fine… I promise. Mention of criminal activity. Yunho is a classy criminal, what can I say. Swearing. Tension. Inappropriate thoughts. Strangers to Lovers?? Domestic play. These two already act like an old married couple, confirmed. Making out, oral(f). Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex.
Author note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING YAYA!! I hope you enjoy this little treat. This is plot heavy. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I had such bad word vomit. May or may not end up writing another part, we’ll see ahh. Ah, i love you ♡ @skteezcursed ♡
Also this is not beta read so please be mindful of any mistakes ♡
Networks: @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet
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“I’m just saying why can’t you get one of the field boys to do it. You got a meeting in thirty, and I don’t see how explaining to them you were ‘out for an errand’ will solve your tardiness.” The driver scoffed yet again as he took the next right towards the new shop that had just opened a few weeks ago in town. A little book shop. There hadn’t been a proper book shop in this part of the city in years, and Yunho was immediately interested in it.
“Like I said, I want to see this place for myself. I don’t need one of those knuckleheads barging in like they own the place. And none of those bozos will ever say a word. I could be a day late, and they’ll all pretend they were just early.” Yunho rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his whiskey. He felt tired just thinking about that meeting. The one he’s been putting off for months. “Stop here.”
San sighed in defeat before taking a spot on the busy road. No one seemed to bat an eye as a black Chevy Suburban rolled up, but then again, most people on this side of town knew exactly who the car belonged to. “Meet me back here in twenty. Go grab us a coffee or something.”
“Wait but, Sir. You can't just—” Yunho slammed the door to the car. “Leave…”
-
The little bell on the top of the door rang cutely as Yunho entered the quiet establishment. There was barely anyone in here, if not no one at all. Perfect. He thought, given he wanted to be able to meet you in peace. And there you were, casually placing books in their rightful places on the shelves. You are wearing a cute sundress with an apron over it. There’s a little sun pattern all over the fabric, making it match with the pastel yellow ribbon in your hair. You were the most beautiful thing Yunho had ever laid eyes on. And the first time he noticed you were in the cafe, a few shops down. You bought a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin. He still remembers the smile on your face when you took that first sip, getting a little foam moustache as a result.
He wanted nothing more than to kiss your sweet face then and there. So naturally, he looked you up. Finding out you had opened up this vintage-urban store. You had moved from outta town, but no one knew where, and your family and history was a mystery. Even to him and his beast detectives. You were no one. And that made you even more interesting. “Come on..just..g-go.”
You were on your tip toes trying to reach the top shelf to put a book back but you being forgetful, left the stool in the back closet and you had decided it was too much of an effort to go back and get it now. You jumping was what you resorted to. You looked like a rabbit in Yunho’s eyes. A sweet little rabbit that’s breast bounced perfectly with every hop. The scrunch in your nose and little tongue poking made him wonder what your face would look like if when you were fucked just right.
His feet moved swiftly until he was flush behind up. You felt his broad chest before you heard him as he softly grabbed the book from your delicate fingers and placed it where it needed to be on the shelf. But what ultimately caught your attention was his smooth voice. “Looked like you needed some help, doll.”
Oh right then and there you felt your life was about to change very dramatically and oh, how it did excite you. “T-thanks.”
“Anytime.” His deep voice spilled in your ears like butter, and his cologne danced around you making the outside world cease to exist. He was walking sex on legs, something out of a dark romance novel and you knew exactly who he was. “So, have you got any book suggestions?”
Your smile grew when he asked the question but Yunho was cringing inside. That was really the best he could do. He’s been watching you for weeks and that was all he could mutter up. You on the other hand, chirped, plodding off deeper into the store. Yunho followed as he watched you scanning the shelves, your fingers tracing the spines of multiple books as you passed them, your mouth quivering out the titles of each one. “Here we go!” You grabbed a black book off the shelf. It had a red misty design all around it with bold white lettering in the centre. It looks magical, like you. “This is one of my favourites. But be warned, it’s a lot of info dumping at the start. But the ending is worth it.”
“Thanks doll. What is it about?” Yunho’s smile makes your heart shake, your fingers grazing his as you hand him the book. Your throat became dry, unable to think of the right words to describe the novel…”Oh it's fantasy…”
You snapped out of your brain as you see the man scanning the blurb on the back, his smile growing into a sly smirk as he read some of the words, Romantic, erudite and suspenseful. You put your jittering hands in the pockets of your apron as you tried your best not to blush. “Y-yeah.. yes. I. It's really good. It’s got witches and vampires, all sorts of creatures.”
Your little ramble caused Yunho to smile ear to ear. The way your face slowly lit up the more you spoke about it, the dramatic movements of your hands as you used them to further express your emotion. He had come to the conclusion you were the cutest thing on the planet. And he would do anything to protect that. “Well I’ll definitely give it a read, sunshine.”
Your like deepened the shade of pink upon hearing the cute nickname that slipped from the tall man. You felt like your legs were slowly turning to jelly at the thought not only was he hot as all fuck, but he was in fact a reader, like you. “T-Tell me what you think when you finish it.”
“I shall.” His remark was quick, the smirk making your heart race. When was he this close to you? Was he always this close to the point you can smell his cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath. You gulped, watching his eyes scan from your eyes to your lips, before letting his own by swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I needed to speak with you about something as well.”
His deep authorial voice rattled in your mind, suddenly shaking you from your fantasy, making you remind yourself who exactly was standing in front of you. You nodded with a small ‘of course’ before walking towards the front counter. Yunho followed you as he spoke, “I’m assuming you know who I am…” his throat felt dry at his own words.
“Everybody knows who you are, Mr Jeong.” Your words seemed flattened, almost worried. In truth you were scared, but the murmurs that circled when you first entered the city was not something you took lightly. The cruelness people spoke off. The ruthless man known as the Viper. Mr Jeong Yunho. Too young to be a mafia lord, yet here he stood, powerful, feared and wealthy. “I suppose you were here originally for business then...”
Yunho watched as you took out the logs of the shop, no longer making eye contact with him. Of course you knew who he was, why was he so stupid in thinking he could pretend for one single moment to be someone else. To be a normal guy that could sway the sweet sunflower that owns the book shop. A fantasy, he thought, one that won't come true. “I protect these shops on this street. And I was wondering if you would be interested in getting into the same agreement.” he bit his tongue, trying his best to be professional.
“And what do I have to do to get this sort of treatment…” Your hands were shaking more than you’d like them too, not wishing to look into his cold eyes. But his eyes weren't cold, in fact they were swimming in conflict. He didn’t need anything from you, just like the other shops. No, he protected people that needed it and in return he asked for their favour. Nothing more nothing less. But he didn’t want a favour from you. No he just wanted…
“A smile.” Yunho said sternly.
“W-what?” You finally looked up at him to see a soft smirk on his shaded pink features and then he replied again..
“I want you to smile.”
-
You couldn’t help but yearn for Yunho every time you opened your shop. Waiting for him to walk in through those doors like he did almost two weeks ago now. you still remember the butterflies in your tummy as he said his goodbye…
“Like that.” Your smile grew bigger as he stepped closer to the counter. “It suits you so much.” He picked up your hand gently before placing the softest kiss on your knuckles. You swore your heart stopped at that moment. “I’ll be seeing you, sunshine.”
And with that he left, leaving your blood rushing to your ears and a hefty tip on your counter.
“Hey, so do I sort the biographies by title or by author.” The young worker so reluctantly hired comes rushing in from the store room, his shirt on the wrong way and his laces barely tied… his mother had practically begged you to give him work since he was almost twenty-three and still without job experience. And now you can see why no one wanted to hire the poor thing. He wasn’t the brightest.
“Uh yeah. By author and make sure they are put in the end row by the nonfiction section, please.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you watched him stumble away to the back of the shop, his laces making him side step.
And then you heard a crash. Followed by a quick, “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” You felt like you needed to ask.
The young boy rounded the shelf, looking back at you with a face as bright of a pink as the poor flowers he was holding. He had broken another vase... perfect.
“Just put it in the back.” You scratched your chin sighing as he repeated over and over ‘I’m sorry’ while cleaning up the what you’d count as the fourth vase filled with flowers. You shook your head, looking back at the receipt logbook again, going over all the money you’d have made since opening. It was surprising, to say the least, the amount of people that have purchased or borrowed books in such little time made you giddy. You felt a sense of accomplishment at the idea people were reading. The sound of the doorbell chimed, shifting your attention to a possible new customer. “Hello, how can I help…”
“Hey Sunshine.” Yunho’s face beamed with happiness upon seeing you. His casual wear catches you off guard. He almost looked normal and not some big bad mob boss who could get away with your murder. “I’ve read your book.”
“Y-yunho.” You perked, closing the logs before quickly rounding the front desk until you were almost inches from him. Close enough to smell his gorgeous cologne. “That didn’t take you long…”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, reminding himself he had spent hours reading the book when he should have been working. But who was going to yell at him for it anyway? No, he needed to finish the book quickly so he could have something to talk about. “No, I fell in love with it on page one. And besides, the quicker I read it. The quicker I could come back here and ask you for another.”
Your face blushed as he took a step closer. You gulp at the proximity, practically feeling his body heat. His on hand leaning on the counter behind you, closing the distance. "D-do, you have any in mind..."
Yunho watched your eyes flutter close, taking in his aura. He couldn't help but smirk at how much he affected you. Infecting your perfect little innocent act, because from what he read in that novel, he knew you were the sunshine he depicted you as, no, there was a dark streak inside you, and he wanted desperately to draw it out. "I was curious if you got something more spicy. Hmm."
"S-spicy!?" You gasp, opening your eyes to gaze into Yunho deep ones, his pupils blown out, almost consuming all the chocolate in his eyes. His smile only grew, placing his other hand on the other side of your body, now trapping you between his large body and the counter.
"Oh, I know you've got ideas, baby. That book wasn't as innocent as you remember, hm." The tilt in his head made you dizzy. His face inches from yours. If you wanted, you would only need to move an inch to close the gap. To finally feel those lips you'd been dreaming about for the past couple of weeks.
"I could give you some suggestions..." You whispered your breath, mixing with his. Yunho bit his bottom lip, inching closer and closer until his lips graze yours and just enough to—
"I think I lost the log book again in the...." The young boy, frozen, almost dropping some of the books that he held tightly in his hand. Yunho sighs, reluctantly pulling away slowly. You looked down at your feet, feeling like your heart was going to jump right out of your chest. "S-sorry."
"It's okay, George. Just.. Did you leave it on the desk in the back again?" You answered the poor boys' question, making his face light up with cringe. He muttered to himself before scurrying off towards the back room. You look back at the man still caging you against the counter, but his gaze was elsewhere. On the young boy, in fact. Yunho could explain it, but he knows that kid. He's seen him somewhere. His face is so familiar yet lost. "Are you okay?"
Your little murmur caught the mob boss's attention, turning his attention to you once again. He cleared his throat before standing up straight, almost making himself bigger than normal. His gaze still flickered to where the back room was. His gut told him something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. "Yeah, don't worry, sunshine." He finally looked back at you, gifting you one of his award winning smiles, "I'm good."
"Well. I should be getting back to work." You felt a slight twinge of embarrassment circle in your tummy. Getting caught in the arms of a man like Yunho but being caught almost kissing him. That was a scandal and a half. Argh, you can practically hear all the old bettys in the street gossiping already. You go to turn away from him, but his hand grips your upper arm, swinging you into his chest. His free hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Let me take you out." He smirked.
"A date?" You questioned.
"Yes. I like you, sunshine. If that wasn't obvious enough." He could see your ears start to turn pink as you tried to look everywhere else. Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears, feeling an overwhelming sense of every emotion under the sun. He leaned closer until his lips grazed your ear, whispering, "Think about it. I'll come back Friday afternoon before you close, and you can tell me your answer."
He lightly kissed your cheek before letting you go, walking out another thought. You just stood there, shocked, thrilled and absolutely terrified.
"You can't go."
"What?" You knitted your brow as you turned to George standing in one of the aisles. He jumped, changing his expression from a plan and cold expression to one of bewilderment.
"Uh, what I mean is you shouldn't. He's not a good man." You can see his grip on the books tighten as he grits his teeth. Your expression stayed the same as you turned your back to him, opening the logbook to where you were before.
"I know who he is." Your words were cold, blunt, almost shocking the young man. He was taken aback, to say the least, but then again, he expected your response. In fact, he hoped for it.
-
Through the following days, you found yourself staring at the clock, waiting, begging for the day to end. You wished desperately for it to be Friday every time you woke up. It was finally Thursday when your craving died a little. An old lady had come in to return a few books, and she had said a fine looking man had asked her to give you a piece of paper. A letter. To say your heart nearly jumped through your throat would have been an understatement. "Hey, George. I need to do some paperwork, watch the store."
"You've never let me work the regis—." You didn't even let the poor boy finish his statement as you sped off towards the back room. Your shaky fingers locked the door as quickly as possible before you practically jumped into the swivel chair. ‘Open it’ you told yourself ‘it has to be from Yunho’. Your smile only grew bigger at the voice singing in your head. You open the paper and see it's written in the most beautiful hand writing you've ever seen. It read;
To my sunshine,
Even though our interactions have been brief, I have to confess that crossing paths in your bookshop was not the first time I've noticed your beautiful presence. I first saw you in the cafe, three shops down. The way you were lost in your book while sipping on your hot chocolate made me want to dive into your mind and see its wonders. Curious what could be lying within… You’ve been on my mind ever since. I have found I am unable to sleep at night without the thought of you. Call me old-fashioned with this letter, but I needed to get this off my chest without blabbering like a fool in front of you. I can't wait for our date tomorrow that I know you’ll say yes to. But until then. A gift…
You look at the bottom of the page and note there is a phone number. If the confession of love wasn't enough, him giving you his number was certainly going to kill you. You had already planned to say yes to his date but now an idea sparked in your mind. In truth, you have found feelings towards Yunho, like you had been made for one another. No amount of time, whether little or long it was, you know your feeling would stay the same. So you wanted to take the reins for once, even if deep down you knew you wouldn't be able to hold them for long.
Sunshine// I got your letter. I want you here out the front by 6 pm, wear something casual.
You left no room for argument as you shut your phone off and held your head high. George’s expression of unpleasantness couldnt… wouldnt, stop you from the growing butterflies in your gut. You were finally going to be happy, and Yunho was the one going to give it to you.
-
You swore it wasn’t this cold yesterday afternoon, the keys almost sticking to your ice cold fingers. You checked the locks to the doors one final time before letting out a sigh of relief and nerves, ready to call it a night. “Well hello, Sunshine.”
You turned with a smile, seeing the man of the hour. He was wearing a less-fancy dress suit. No tie, or cuff links. You couldn't help but giggle. “I said casual wear Yun…”
“What do you mean love? This is casual.” He chuckled, taking two large steps to you, closing the gap. His hand snuck around your waist, squeezing the flesh on your hips. “Where are we off to tonight?”
“A surprise. So you’ll just have to trust me.” You giggle, your palm resting on his chest. You could feel his heart racing a million miles, yet he looked so composed. But then again in his field of ‘work’ he needed to show almost no signs of emotion.
“I’d trust you with my life.” Yunho had never used those words so lightly, but it was the truth. He couldn't explain it but he could easily lay his life down for you. You could crush it if you wished and he wouldn't say a thing. You blushed at his confession, reaching on your tiptoes you kiss the rugged man's cheek, before pulling away towards the street.
“I loved your letter by the way.” And with that you turned to start walking, letting Yunho trail after you like a love sick puppy.
“Just this way…” Yunho followed you curiously as you weaved through the streets. There were no restaurants or diners around in this area he knew of and given he owned half the city he should be aware of almost everything. So where on earth were you taking him? You turned your head over your shoulders spotting the confusion on his face, you couldn't help but giggle at his wide boba-like eyes. You outstretched your hand, waiting for him to take it. Yunho swore he felt his heart stop when he locked his fingers with yours. Yunho has never put this much trust in a person before and yet he has found himself being led by you through the front door of an apartment complex and up three flights of stairs before coming to a stop at a door that read 117. “I..”
All the words you had prepared to say had suddenly flown out the window as you slotted the key into the lock. Yunho’s smirk grew as he watched your brain scramble, finding enjoyment in watching you squirm. “And here I thought you had an innocent date planned. But my cheeky little sunshine just wanted me all to herself, hmm?”
“N-no!!” you whipped your head to his direction, leaning against the door with blush riddled on your cheeks. “I-i just wanted to make you a home cooked meal. I-i prefer cooking over going out.” You dipped your head to the ground feeling a little ashamed of your introvertedness. Bringing such a dangerous man home wasn't exactly the thought that crossed your brain when you thought of this evening. In truth you were only thinking about treating him to your cooking, something you took pride in. “I’m not very good with other people.”
He brought his hand to your chin, lifting your face up so he could look at you in the eyes. There was no judgement in his soft gaze, heck even his killer smirk was now only a small simple smile. “As long as I'm with you, we could be doing anything, besides…” He leaned down to give the side of your face a kiss before whispering, “I’m not one for crowds either.”
You gulped, nodding slightly as you turned back to open the door. Yunho’s gaze shifted from yours as soon as he heard the creek of the wood, finally getting a peek inside your little place you call home. Your place was riddled with a vintage, cottagey-like aesthetic. It was like Yunho had stumbled into a fairies hut that was hidden away in the woods.the smell of your salt lamp was strong but not as strong as the calming lavender. He felt like the air around him was giving him the warmest hug. Everything was soft, cute, and dainty… just like you. You lead him deeper into the apartment, letting him take the lead once you get to an archway. It led into the lounge room he found, spotting the emerald couch and various bookshelves encasing a tv cabinet. “Uh..I… make yourself at home, i just got to put away some things and i’ll start to prepare dinner.”
You scurried off before he had the chance to protest, not that he would have that is. He was almost scared to take a seat, his black on black attire completely stuck out to the surroundings. Slicked back hair, expensive accessories, shoes worth more than most of your furniture… He was so out of place. Taking a seat he felt himself sink into the cushions. He was being bombarded by plushies falling onto him as he shifted to get comfortable. Everything smelled like you, sweet, sugary, a hint of freshly baked goods and old books. He couldn’t help him, leaning down he brought his face to a blanket you use regularly when lounging on the couch. He took a deep inhale. ‘God help me’ he'd think to himself as his fingers tangled in the soft fabric, feeling his hips twitch at the thought of your scent round him. Paint him as a pervert, he didn't care, all he cared about in this moment was the feeling of you. Craving, begging to see if he could have you as more.
A loud clunk caught his attention, making him snap out of the haze clogging his mind. He’s never sat up quicker, swiftly moving towards the kitchen to only find you with a pot on the ground and the lid firmly in your hand as if you were using it as a shield. “Whoops…” was all you could mutter, feeling like your nerves had been shot from the loud noise. Yunho scooped up the pot, trying to see if you were okay only to see your face completely red. The same red as the tomatoes on the counter. “I can't stop my hands shaking,”
You tried to laugh it off lightly at how nervous you were with such a man like Yunho being in your house. You were starting to regret bringing him here and wishing you just sucked it up and took him to a restaurant instead. Yunho's free hand placed itself on your upper arm, gently rubbing up and down on your soft skin before giving the flesh a squeeze. He hadn't even realised you were dressed in something different, another sundress, but this one was black with lace accents on the hems. the ribbon holding up your hair matched it accordingly. “Hey It's okay. Just take a deep breath, baby.”
Him calling you all these pet names weren't helping but you obeyed him as best as you could nonetheless. “I just feel a little silly bringing you here. You know since we barely know one another and I don't want you to get the wrong impression…”
“And what kind of impression would you be giving me, hmm?” He didn't mean to come off as teasing but his deep tone caused him to always sound alluring.
“I..uh. That I wanted to just get you to my place to sleep with you. Cause that's not the reason i just really dont l-like—” you stopped rambling as soon as your eyes met Yunho’s. His dark blown out gaze causes your words to get caught in your throat.Yunho had put the pot down a while ago, his spine straight as he stepped closer. You instinctively took a step back and then another before your hips made contact with the counter. Yunho placed a foot on either side of yours and his hands on the marble behind you. You were caged.
"And what if that was the reason? Would it be so bad?" It was like his voice got deeper, more sultry as he took a deep grumbling breath, taking in the scent of your perfume and shampoo.
"I j-just don't want to ruin anything we could have." You whispered, your eyes fluttering close. But Yunho simply stared holes into your flesh, like he could see straight to your soul. This cute little thing in front of him wants more than a hookup? Wants to actually get to know him? He doesn't know if he had just won the jackpot, or this was, in fact, a cruel dream he hadn't woken up to yet.
"Trust me, darling. Nothing you can do will ruin anything between us..." he leaned down to your ear, "Even if it's sex."
You choked when you heard him groan that unruly word. Your hand clapping over your mouth to hide your gasp. Never in your life have you been put into a situation quite sultry as this one. The men you’ve dated were only stereotypical, self-centered or mama’s boys. Worse if they were all three. But Yunho was different. He is no gentleman but yet, if you asked for the moon he would do anything to give it to you. He is not a nice man but if someone were to hurt the old lady that runs the little shoe shop down the street he would not be afraid to kill the fucker who did her wrong. He is not a lover but he’d be damned if he didnt wife you up the moment he could. Yunho was different and that's why you had quickly fallen for the man even if those around you did not approve. “W-what if I were to ask for more tonight. Not just dinner…”
Yunho’s heart stopped, he was sure of it. His body moving closer his lips inches from your own, “I would give anything your pretty little heart desires… all you gotta say is, please.”
You opened your eyes to see his dark ones locked on you. Moving your hand slowly, you snaked them gently around his neck, feeling his soft locks tangle between your fingers. “Please…” His lips locked onto yours, stealing the yelp from your throat. His hands that were gripping firmly on the counter now tugged at your hips, bringing you flushed against him. You could feel his body heat pool where you needed him most. You’ve never been kissed like this before. The softness with pure desperation lingering. It was as if your nerves exploded with little fireworks across your spine as you shiver under him. “Y-yu..y..” He was quick to swallow your cries, using his leg to spread your thighs more so he could easily slip between them.
“If we keep going, We aren't having dinner.” Yunho groaned against your tongue, pulling away with a tug on your bottom lip. He could hear a slight ring in his blushed ears, feeling his whole body shaking, craving to keep going. But he needed you to take the lead. Tell him what you wanted… for now.
“My bedroom is the first door on the left.” Your smile seemed to be contagious as Yunho couldn't help but give you a cheeky little smirk in return. He wasted no time in taking a hold of your lips again, but this time he took a step back, letting you both shuffle ungracefully towards the hallway. You huffed as you almost tripped, giving up with the kiss. You grabbed a hold of his hand that was still tightly against your hip, intertwining your fingers withs his. You both stood there for a moment. Nothing but battered breath and racing heart beats could be heard. It was like the world had ceased to exist around this very moment. His hazy gaze travelled from where you were both connected, up your soft arms, until he reached your lips. They were swollen, puffy and pink. Beautiful… Yunho thought. Everything about you was simply beautiful.
You gave him a soft smile, one he has never seen ever pointed in his direction, and with your hands tightly interlocked, you lead him slowly into your bedroom. A shy grin decorated your features. Something that Yunho's dark stare didn't linger from, as if he needed to map out every curve and twist to keep it perfectly accurate in his mind for years to come. From the intense gaze, you look away and towards your bed.
As soon as you opened the door, Yunho was met with the sweetest scent. It was so much stronger than the one that painted your apartment. Strawberries, vanilla, and brown sugar. The room wasn't much different from the rest of your place. It was neat, tidy. But there were blankets and plushies galore on your bed. Like a little nest to keep you safe from the outside world. The bedding was a forest green that matched the similar greens on your desk that sat in the corner. You, of course, had a bookshelf in here, too, filled with a number of different kinds of novels. Yunho reminded himself to bring up the one you recommended to him when you first met.
"Cute..." Was all he spoke, making your red face become even more hotter. You turned back to him, seeing his gaze glued to you, eyeing you with a devilish smirk. "...Just like you.”
Yunho lowered himself to place his lips on yours in another heated kiss. His hands wandered lower and lower, making your own fly to grab his shoulders. He backs you up slowly, step by step. Your hazy mind was too focused on the deepening kiss to notice any movement. It wasn't until you were suddenly startled by the edge of the bed hitting your thighs that you pulled away from the man in front of you. Yunho didn't hesitate to push you back gently. The little yelp that escaped your throat would have sounded pathetic if in a different scenario, but Yunho couldn't help but groan in response to the sound. Before you could protest anything, Yunho quickly stifled any noise as he followed you to capture your lips once more in a fierce kiss.
Teeth clashed against each other, and tongues danced like there was no tomorrow. It was like Yunho couldn't get enough of you. He needed to taste you in every way possible. The whimper that slipped from him as his mouth ventures lower to your jaw, biting and lapping at your skin. Then the same is done to your neck, your collarbone, all the way to the part of your breasts that was exposed by your sundress. You gasp, tipping your head back onto the plushies behind you while your hands loosen from the fabric on his shoulders.
Yunho suddenly stopped, his dark gaze looking up at your flushed expression. You're as red as a tomato with glossed over eyes, and God is it a delicious look on you.
"Such a pretty little thing." He groans, his voice all but a hushed whisper, slowly snaking his hands to your knees, playing with the lacy hem of your dress. "May I, Sunshine?" You nodded while biting your lip, a little too enthusiastically, shifting a little side to side. You tried to ease some of the ache between your legs.
“Use your words, Darling,” He grins, his touch unmoving.
“Please Yunho,” you finally squeak out. He shifts his body lower until he is snuggly between your legs. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes while his tongue coaks a thin layer of spit on his lips was enough to make you wet. You shiver as his large hands run from your knee, up your thigh, under your dress before returning back to your knee, tantalisingly. As if marvelling at what was before him. What you were gifting him. He does it again, this time letting his finger tips linger a little bit longer on your inner thigh before pulling away completely, leaving a thrilling chill to run down your spin. “I need you…”
His ghosting hand places itself back on the soft parts of your thighs, squeezing as he heard those three words slip from your pretty mouth. “You need me, sunshine? Need me to take the ache away? Tell me what you need, baby.”
“I want you to taste me…” You felt shy whispering such filth but Yunho on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow at your daring comment. It was something so daring it brought a smile to his older features. His little sunshine wasn’t innocent and he was slowly drawing the darkness out. His thumbs hooked on the edge of the dress hesitating before pulling the fabric up, agonisingly slow.
“Hmm, I knew my girl had a dark side.” He spoke with a lightly chuckle escaping his reddened lips from him biting them in anticipation. My girl…those words played in your head on loop, like your new favourite song. My girl. Argh you would never get over him saying that. He hikes your dress up higher to reveal your cute purple panties with a deep wet patch on them. You’re soaked right through. It was like he couldn't help himself, taking his pointer finger he pressed firmly on the patch watching the fabric stick to your core. He couldn't help but groan, “All this talk and here you are…dripping.”
Yunho dragged you underwear down your thighs. The cool air that crept from your bedroom window immediately hits the warmth of your core below. His fingers snatch the fabric clean off your legs, flicking them off to the side somewhere before his lustful gaze finally sets on the prize he had been yearning for ever since he first met you.
He swipes his thumb over your aching cunt, collecting some slick with his finger. It sent a jolt through you, your thighs twitching without your control. He coated his fingers more, watching your juices spill down his digit onto his knuckles. He does it once more for good measure, this time rubbing over your clit to earn himself a delicious whine from you. You grip at the bedsheets, widening your legs further for him unconsciously as he continues to play and rub at your clit just right. "Fuck...Yun."
"That's it sunshine, feeling good?" He chuckled watching you flinch as he pressed harshly on your clit. He snaked closer before his face was inches from you. He blew onto your wet lips, causing a gasp to leave you, but the gasp quickly turned into a high-pitched whine as you suddenly felt the warmth of his mouth upon you. He begins to lap up your pussy all the while still harshly circling your clit, moans escaping your parted lips. The noises turned into something desperate when the thumb was replaced by his firm tongue, pressing down and licking at your swollen bud, again and again. Yunho groaned against you, bucking his hips into the mattress at a stuttering pace. You took notice of his whine, feeling another one while he ground his hips just right against the sheets.
"Please, yuyu, t-that. I..ah."
You've never had any man pay this much attention to you before, let alone find enjoyment in eating you out. You can feel yourself becoming absolutely soaked just under the sensation of his mouth. Your legs quiver and shake, unable to control your movements as you feel yourself tip closer to the edge.
You try to take a deep breath. Feeling yourself already so close has made you feel slightly embarrassed. But as he sunk his long finger inside of your cunt, all the nerves seemingly washed away. Another one slid in easily and "Nh-ah YUNHO!" He curls them upwards, right to the spot that sends a spark of electricity crackling through your core.
He begins a steady rhythm along with his tongue continuously lapping your clit like he was a starved man taking his fill of a goddesses nectar and you're unable to control the noises and pants that fall from your throat. You grip one hand into the sheets as flies to grab the back of your thigh. lifting your leg up further to give him more access. You need more. You craved more. You've never felt this good before, and your being was demanding to be selfish for once.
He added a third finger as if he knew you needed something more. It made your head slam into the pillow behind you, turning to almost shout into the soft cushioning, muffling yourself for your poor neighbours. He works up a good rhythm, finding what buttons to push, succeeding in getting to know what your body wants. Groans from him and other lustfulled sniffles fill the room, as your thighs clamp down around the mob boss's head, keeping him where he is.
He could barely breath as your hips buck against his soaked face. But he couldn't care less. In fact, he would be happy if he died like this. In between the legs of his best girl, his pretty little sunshine. You felt like you were about to explode but the euphoria didn't last long as Yunho used his free hand that had been holding onto your outer thigh to pull your legs apart, holding them in place so he could sit up slightly. "You close, baby? Do you need to cum?"
"Yes!" You answered in a choked whine needing to feel his mouth on you once again.
"Yes, what sunshine?" Normally, he would be one for punishment, and given you kept breaking rules, he was most certainly craving to punish you. But it decided to let it slide this one. He has more than enough time to mould you and shape you into his perfect angel later. But for now, he'll see what type of filth he can draw from you.
"Yes, please, Yunho." Your glossed eyes finally opened for the first time in what felt like years, your tears clouding most of your vision but you could still see the darkness in Yunho's gaze and how his chin was dripping with slick. Your slick.
He drove his fingers deeper, his knuckles brushing your walls as he slammed his digits in a calculated thrusts. Harsh, slow, and powerful. You become louder, needier, and you can’t get your breathing under control. You’re teetering right on the edge. Ready. Right there and then...
He stops.
His glistening face had the cheekiest, wet grin across it like he felt proud of edging you. You on the other hand looked almost shocked panting louding, heart beating in your ears with flush brilliant red cheeks. You lick your lips as you run your hand over your mouth before raking it through your slightly dishevelled hair. Your eyes grew narrow as you stared at the man between your shaking legs. He holds your thighs apart so you can’t clamp them shut to try and stop the intense tingling between, causing you to huff in frustration.
“Don’t need to ruin the fun now, princess,” he inquired as he stood up off the bed, towering over your weak looking frame. The moon light that was pooling in the room caused his shadow to engulf you, covering your body in his darkness. He looked powerful. He looked dangerous. Like the man everyone warned you about. The feared mafia leader of the Destiny clan. He pulls you by your ankles, yanking you until you were sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand gripped the back of your neck gently bringing your face to his so he could kiss you. But you kept your hand over your mouth, your other hand coming to place on his chest, holding him firmly in face with a hidden smirk.
“You are a cruel man.” You gestured to him not letting you finish, but in truth, the word cruel hung in the air like thick tension. Cruel. A word he was sadly used to. But not in this kind of way. It almost delighted him. You felt your heart jump as he raised his brow, coming closer so that he’s only a hair’s breadth away from the back of your hand. His dark eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail.
“Hmm why? You taste so sweet,” He bit his lip, “I want you to have a taste?” He mimics what you asked prior. You swallowed thickly with wide eyes nodding shyly. Slowly, you moved your hand away as he paused for a moment, just to see your flustered face once more. “Cute…”
He dives in, kissing you, lapping at your lips. His teeth nibbling, and his teeth clashing against yours. You could taste the muskiness of yourself on his tongue, the sweetness that lingered. You deepen the kiss, allowing his hand on the back of your neck to hold it still in place, giving up any power to give him everything of your being. Your hands shift to his shirt, catching the hem between your finger tips before tugging at the fabric. He seemed to get the gist as he pulled away for only a mere couple of seconds to pull his shirt off, snatching your lips against his once more.
Your fingers trace his body with your sight, feeling all the bumps of scar tissue and muscle. More proof of his status, of who he really was. But yet you still couldn’t pull yourself away. You’re not sure if you ever will. “Yu..” You huffed against his lips, “Yun I..”
He pulls away, letting his nose rub against yours while his eyes stay tightly sealed, taking in the moment like he was never going to be able to get it again. “What is it, my sunshine.”
“I need you… please.” You voice was barely above a whisper, only you and him being able to ever hear your little plea. His smile. His addicting smile made the butterflies in your tummy swoon. His hand that was firmly on your neck slid down until it found the zipper to your dress, playing with the metal between his digits.
“Can you stand?” He gently asked, waiting for you to nod a small ‘yes’. He helped you stand, the backs of your thighs still tightly against the edge of the bed, as if they were helping you stand. He finally pulled away, letting your eyes wander down his toned, damaged chest. He had tattoos up both arms, one of his right peck and one faintly sticking out on the top of his low slacks. You licked your swollen lips unconsciously as you gawked at him. Yunho on the other hand couldn't help but grin sinisterly at your reaction, delicately grabbing the zipper on your dress, he unzipped it until the straps of your dress loosened and fell from your shoulders.
The fabric pooled at your chest, your arms tightly holding it in place. “I…”
“Are you okay, love?” Your eyes snapped to his deep chocolate ones when he called you ‘love’, feeling your nerves crackling like fireworks. He tilted his head to the slide marginally, his smirk fading to a simple smile but his eyes never dimming their darkness. His hands gripped tightly onto his belt, unlooping it before throwing it somewhere in the room. He had made you watch his every move as he unzipped his slack unhurriedly. He could see the darkness begin to cloud your colourful eyes, your pupils growing large as the fabric fell to the floor, leaving him in his boxers. “Your turn.”
His voice somehow got deeper. His fingers gliding along your goosebumped skin. You took a deep inhale through your nose before letting your dress drop, pooling at your ankles. "Fuck..."
"Yun..." You dont even know why you called his name, but he was immediately on you, his one hand resting on your bare hip while the other effortlessly unhooked your bra in one quick snap, watching your plump breast spring free. He almost bent you in half when he brought his face to your tits, taking a deep breath, smelling your perfume on your sweaty skin. His tongue licked along the valley, groaning as he latched his mouth to your left nipple. "Fuck yuyu, nargh."
Your hands tangled in his hair as you feel back, dragging him with you as you fell on the bed with an 'oof'. He used his strong arms to throw your body upwards until your head hit the pillows, not leaving your breasts alone. He painted every part of skin he could with beautiful purple marks. Neading your chest, tugging on your nipples and wetting every surface. You could lay here and suck your tits for hours if you let him. But he knew you needed more. He needed more. Feel what it's like to be inside you.
"Such perfect tits. A pretty body. Everything about you is perfect sunshine. Hmm. My perfect girl." His praise made you whimper, a tear creeping out the corner of your eyes. You've never had someone say such kind things to you, praised you the way Yunho has been. For a cruel man, he was the kindest person you've ever met.
"Yu..yunho, please. I need you inside me." You whispered, tugging his head up by his hair so his lips were inches from your own. He gave you a small peck before sitting up slightly so he could wrap his legs around his waist, sliding the tip of his cock along your folds.
“Whatever my girl wants, she’ll get.” He sunk inside your soaked cunt inch by inch, bit by bit, until he bottomed you out. He shivered at the feling of your warm walls clenching tightly around him. His eyes squeezing shut and face burring in your neck. He could feel the coil in his gut already tug. he was going to cum any second and he felt embarrassed how quick you’ve made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven. “Fuck sunshine, you feel so nice. You’re pussy is sucking me in ngah.”
“Yunho please move.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, grinding upwards onto his public bone, feeling the friction ease the ache only just. It was like a switch went off when Yunho heard your little plea, snapping his hips into yours are such a pace it caused the air to be snatched out of your lungs. If you werent being fucked by the inch of your life you would of felt sorry towards your neightbours as a string of cries, swears and pet names bounced off the thin walls of your bedroom. Yunho drug his nails in the soft flesh of your waist, surely creating deep indents that you’d been flaunting for days to come.
You’ve never felt such a connection to another person before let alone a man. You were brought up with the idea that love didn’t exsit. That it was only a dream that settled in the books you’ve read. But the way Yunho made you feel, the way he made you want to feel. It was like you were in those books you’ve read.. “Yu..Yu I—”
“It okay baby. Let go. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” He sat up just slightly grabbing both of your wrists he held your hands above your head, lacing his fingers harshly around your appendage. Bending one of your legs over his shoulder, he jackhammered into you at a sped that was just what you needed, feeling his waist grind on your clit, giving you the right amount of simulation to let go. “That’s it, darling.”
Your foggy eyes, riddled with tears, stared up at Yunho’s never leaving his gaze. He watch every detail your face made as you came crashing down from your high. The way you brows cross, you mouth hung only ajar and savlia dripping down your chin. You were the hottest thing he had ever laid eyes on, he was certain. “Fuck, sunshine, can I come inside you. Can I feel this pretty pussy up?”
His eyes begun to flutter closed as he felt a rush of need spill down his spine. You whimpered out a daring ‘yes please’ making him bust his load deep inside you, coaking your walls before some of his cum leaked out around his cock that stilled in you. Clouds daced around you, the softness of air tickling your sweaty flesh. Every nerve in your body was on an all time high and it was all thanks to the dangerous man above you. Yunho had let go of your wrist, kissing each one tendly. You simply lazily watched him, basking in the moment, never wanting it to end.
-♡
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alienzil · 4 months ago
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Grandfathered In
There, a job well done. Alfred thought to himself as he put the last grocery bag in the back of the car. Meal planning and shopping for a family as large as his own (and their semi frequent unexpected guests) did take quite a bit of his time but he'd managed to finish a bit early this week.
Alfred was thinking fondly of spending his extra time with a nice cup of tea and a book when he heard a noise from the nearby alley.
He stilled and listened intently. That was the sound of someone in pain. A child in pain if he wasn't mistaken (a sound he would rather he wasn't so familiar with). Well then, the tea would have to wait.
Alfred quietly moved into the alleyway, his hand inside his coat gripping the pistol hidden there. Hurt child or not, it never hurts to be cautious in Gotham.
"Good Heavens!"
There was a boy with pure white hair and bright, barely open, luminous green eyes. He was curled up, partially hidden by the dumpster, clearly barely clinging to consciousness and was oozing bright green blood from a large abdominal wound as well as several smaller cuts and burns.
He approached slowly and held out his hands to try to appear as friendly and non threatening as possible. "You appear to be in a bit of trouble young sir, perhaps I can help?"
The boy nodded weakly and Alfred knelt down and reached to pick him up. Best to get him into the car quickly and make use of his emergency first aid kit to stabilize the boy then get him home for further treatment. The hospital clearly wasn't an option for the young Meta... or alien perhaps? Something to ask once the boy was up to it.
Alfred carefully cradled the child and briskly moved back towards the car. He appeared to be a young teenager but he weighed so little, Alfred almost felt as though he was holding a toddler rather than a teen.
He lay the boy down in the back seat and leaned over to reassure him, gently moving his hair out of his eyes and petting is head in a soothing gesture. "There now, we'll have you right as rain in no time."
"Ha" the injured young Meta tried to laugh. "Might take...some time.. Don't ya think?"
Oh he'd fit right in, Alfred couldn't help thinking. Sassing even as he lay there bleeding. Well, in spirit if not quite the usual appearance, Alfred considered, eyeing the white hair and bright green eyes but-
A bright white suddenly light filled the car. Alfred blinked away the spots from his vision then stared in astonishment at the now black haired, blue eyed boy before him. Well then, fit right in indeed.
*****
Bruce blearily wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table just barely holding in a yawn. He'd been in space on a mission with the Justice League for over 3 weeks and had only just gotten back to Earth in time to crash into bed and get a few hours of sleep before he had to be back up.
He reached for his coffee and looked around the table at his children. Tired as he was, it was good to be home. It even looked like everyone had made it for breakfast, a rare event for their family. Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...
"Who's this?" Bruce asked with friendly smile. Did one of his kids make a new friend?
Alfred silently appeared next to him. "That is your son."
"My son?" What was happening? Bruce was too tired for this. He counted again, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, Barbara, Damian, Duke and...he looked closely at the last one. Black hair, blue eyes. Looks like one of his... He had no idea who this child was.
"Your son." Alfred said firmly as he sat some papers next to Bruce's plate.
Bruce looked down. Those were adoption papers.
"Oh. My. God." Stephanie whisper screamed from across the table. "That's where B got the adoption habit from!"
Bruce's attention was diverted from the multiple children trying to shush Stephanie as an uncapped pen was placed in front of him. He looked up as Alfred raised a single eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.
"Right, of course. My son."
He quickly scanned the adoption papers as he signed them then looked over at his latest child.
"Welcome to the family, Danny."
Note: I don't currently have plans to continue this. Anyone can add on if they would like to :-)
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hurlingdown · 20 days ago
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thinkin’ about . . . gunplay with fushiguro toji. you’re a notorious mafia boss, and he’s a sharp-witted spy sent out to honey trap you. what comes next?
tags. sub! toji, dom! reader. gunplay, oral, cock-stepping, dirty talk, degradation, slight feminization, sir kink, toji being a (cock)slut.
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fushiguro toji would have never thought his honey trap mission would end up with him being on his knees for you and a gun to his throat.
“don’t tell me,” you muttered, patting the barrel of the gun against his cheek, “you actually thought you would be able to pull this off without getting caught?” 
toji was staring up at you with such composure that normally would have pissed you off, but you didn’t miss the way he visibly swallowed when you traced his jawline with the muzzle, betraying how affected he really was. he couldn't help it. the way you were treating him was exciting, and he had to remind himself that you were holding a weapon that could end his life. 
at his silence, you slowly trailed the mouth of the gun down the vein of his neck, cold metal scraping against hot skin, making him shiver. 
“so quiet,” you sighed, angling the gun in a way that circled his adam’s apple, his breath hitching at the slight pressure on his windpipe. “and to think you were talking so much earlier, when you attempted to seduce me in that bar.” 
toji smirked. “n’ i damn near succeeded.” 
“if you did, you’d be in a far better place than here, kneeling at my mercy. don’t you think?” 
“y’were ready to bend me over the table,” he drawled, lazily meeting your eyes. “if you didn’t see the gun—you would’ve fucked me in fronta everyone.” 
eyebrows furrowing, you gripped his hair forcefully, lifting him to meet you face-to-face as he grunted in pain, struggling to stay on his knees with his hands bound behind him. “—fucker. give a warning.” 
you clenched your jaw.
“i can see why they sent you,” you said nonchalantly, a carefully constructed facade for your anger—hot gaze trailing down the tempting crevice of his chest, down to the erection that practically bulged obscenely against the front of his trousers. “with this slutty body of yours. could make you half a woman with the size of those.” 
“could it,” toji wheezed. it didn’t come out like a question. “got a thing for whores with big tits? or ‘s just me, sire?” 
what was he playing at? you jerked his head back roughly, lining the gun up at the base of his throat. 
“open your mouth again, and i’ll put a bullet through your pretty face.” 
toji stared the gun down as though being held at gunpoint was a routine for him at this point, completely unfazed. his gaze darted towards you right after, face contorted into a strangely smug expression, like he knew you weren’t going to shoot him. you watched as he carefully parted his lips, taking his tongue out and shooting you a naughty gaze through his lashes. 
it took you a moment to gather your bearings before you snarled, half in anger and half in awe. “you fucking slut.”
if he wanted something in his mouth, well, you were going to give him something.
ignoring the glint of wariness in his eyes as you raised the gun from his throat, you pressed the tip of it against his lips before slowly pushing it past the rim. it had to taste bitter, with residual gunpowder staining the edges, but toji didn’t show it. if anything, it looked like he was enjoying it, jaw slackening as he allowed you to push in further. 
toji’s eyes fluttered shut as you finally bottomed out, trying not to gag as the muzzle hit the back of his throat. there was a small frown fixed on his face in concentration, and he tilted his head expertly to allow it to slide in deeper. 
his lips were wrapped taut around the thick barrel up to the trigger where your finger laid, lewd gurgles now sounding as saliva rapidly gathered in his mouth at the overstretch. a line of drool tantalisingly dripped down the side of his chin, dribbling down the exposed column of his throat. 
the loud click of you cocking the gun had him letting out a pathetic whimper, swallowing hard as he tried his hardest to take it in deeper. he glanced up at you through smouldering, watery eyes, looking for something akin to… approval. 
“think i underestimated how much of a whore you are,” you muttered, yanking his head to the side, to which he whined lowly at. “got a thing for sticking dangerous objects down your throat, toji, or is it just my gun?”  
toji let out a muffled response, or tried to, as you took the opportunity to flatten the side of the barrel against his tongue, the heel of your foot simultaneously digging down hard onto his clothed erection. he groaned, hips bucking up as he tried to chase the sudden stimulation, the overwhelming pleasure making his eyes roll back in an erotic display.
“that’s enough,” you rasped, pulling the barrel out. it was now thoroughly drenched in his spit, and a lewd string of saliva connected the muzzle and his lips. he looked up at you with dazed bedroom eyes.
“i want the real thing now,” toji purred. “sire.” 
kinktober masterlist! main masterlist!
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baeshijima · 19 days ago
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mr reca fic where he’s suffering a creative slump due to the lack of good scripts (by his standards) from various screenwriters. he feels himself going positively insane with every script he’s given.
it’s too dull. it’s too predictable. this one has no creative flair whatsoever!! that one just doesn’t spark enough imagination!!!
it’s troublesome, really. some think he’s really going through it, while others believe the scripts he’s been given won’t bring him enough money. but really, who cares about monetary value when it is he who cannot even begin to picture himself enjoying the process that comes with each script?
and so that is how he finds himself wandering around aimlessly. sometimes the outdoors is necessary for the mind, and who knows? perhaps he really will find something that will give him a spark. hmm, those trees are looking a little dull. the sky overhead is too cloudy. hm? did he just hear thunder—
something collides into his chest, a choked “oof!” following soon after. he stumbles backwards a little, papers flying through the air around him. he blinks once, twice, at the sight of you on the ground, muttering something under your breath before a sharp gasp escapes you, hastily scrambling to gather the papers fluttering and strewn around.
one such paper falls into his hands. he glances over its contents, skimming through it as he goes to pass it over to you with an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.
this… this is genius! this is absolutely the pinnacle of writing!! while a little rough around the edges (as drafts usually tend to be), his once clouded mind is now clear, giving way to a blank canvas which slowly depicts the imagery your writing induces. idea after idea pours into his brain as he can visualise exactly what he wants, his body trembling and heart pounding as he insantly fixates on your panicked form still collecting all the fallen papers.
“yes… yes! this is what i was looking for! everything about this is pure artistry! the possibilities are endless, the sky is the limit!!”
this is possibly the happiest and freest he has felt in what seems like eons! seriously, compared to those other mind-numbing scripts this truly is the pinnacle of writing itself.
a laugh full of pure, unadulterated glee escapes him, careful not to crinkle the god-sent paper cradled in his palms. “you! you’re a genius!”
“i’m a wha…?”
he whirls in the direction of the source of the voice, further praises and a proposal for a collaboration on the tip of his tongue, only for his breath to catch in his throat.
you… you’re so radiant! even with that disheveled appearance and absolutely adorable confused expression you’re giving him, he never realised such beauty existed! not only does your writing fill him with endless creativity, but his pounding heart, parched throat and warming skin tells him you’re definitely the main character!
but wait! if you were to be the main character, then would that make him the main character’s love interest? surely he wouldn’t have had such a cliché meet-cute like bumping into each other if he wasn’t the love interest! but what if there is a second love interest? no, no, he can oust them…
you, on the other hand, believe you’re about to get whiplash instead of the man, baffled at how he instantly switched from a maniac to stark silence to muttering senselessly with a dreamy expression.
well, each to their own. you have more pressing matters, and that’s to quickly return home and continue fantasising before you forget the idea! but first, you have to get the last piece of paper back…
“um… sir? can i have my paper back, please?”
in an instant, he kneels in front of you. now that you’re at eye level, he certainly is very handsome. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought this was some movie or drama plot with him as the main lead! oh, but why is he holding your hands—
“yes, i will spend the rest of my life with you.”
“…what?”
tldr; you’re just a silly writer who daydreams far too much for their own good, and somehow managed to bag top-tier director mr reca with the power of said daydreams. (his ever-growing obsession with you is concerning to say the least but, hey! what genius isn’t at least a little insane?)
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prettybean · 11 months ago
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WHAT THEY WOULD SAY DURING SEX (COD +18)
* I have a soft spot for Keegan, im sorry
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
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Ghost
“I know it's big”
“arch your back, just like that”
“Did you want this? Say it"
“Stick out your tongue or I won't give you anything”
“Such a whore, now you don't act like a brat in front of everyone anymore, huh?”
“Are you listening? open your fucking legs"
“Good girl, let everyone hear how much you love having my cock inside”
“An angel who wants to be fucked by me, how pathetic”
Soap
“Where’s my innocent girl?”
“Show me how much you want it”
“Fuck, you're so cute when you struggle to stay still”
"Use your words"
“Get on your fucking knees”
“You’re sucking it so good, baby, can you take it down your throat?"
“Do you want me to cum here? You want it? Do you want me to fill that pretty mouth?”
“You're all dirty, come here”
Price
“Look at you, always trying to flirt with the higher ranking ones”
“Lie down on my desk”
“You're so wet, did you need a spanking to make you behave?”
“Cum. Now."
“You're still so needy, even though I just fucked you”
“Look how much you came, you wet my uniform”
“Call me sir or I will have to punish you again”
“I fuck you harder, so you will show me some respect”
Gaz
“You belong to me, am I clear?”
“You acted like a brat, now you pay the consequences”
“You’re so pretty you are when you moan for me”
"I love you so much"
“You can give me another one, pretty girl”
“Be good for me, cum on my cock”
“Do you like it, sugar?”
“Don't lie, your wet pussy is begging for mercy”
Alejandro
“I knew you would be good while I was at work”
“Did you touch yourself?”
“You're so cute, keep begging me”
“This pussy is so good, mi amor”
“That’s it, legs around my face, just like that”
“Fuck, I had no idea you were so sensitive”
“Do you like my tongue?”
“Don't look at me like that or I won't stop eating your pussy”
Graves
“Keep riding me, don't you dare stop”
“Do you feel it? Do you feel how good my cock fills you?”
“You like being on top of me, don’t you?”
“I just said a word and you're already bouncing on my cock”
"What did you say? I can't understand with all those moans"
“Good, just like that”
“I told you not to tease me in front of Shadows”
“I know you were just being a brat because you want to get fucked.”
König
"Do not run away"
“God, you're so small I could break you”
"It's big? huh?”
“You can't even take my cock properly, look at you”
“Don't cry, I only put on the tip”
“You're so tight, I might go crazy”
“Stop moving, you have to take it all”
“I don't give a fuck if it doesn't fit, take my cock like a good whore”
* He tends to switch to speaking only in German when he loses control
Keegan
“My eyes are up here”
“You do what I say, if I want you to cum, you cum, whore”
“I noticed how you looked at those recruits, you wanted their dicks too, huh?“
“What's the matter, are you shy now?”
“Do you like being fucked like a whore? This is what you deserve."
"You do not talk anymore? You won't get anything if you don't tell me what you want."
“This is my girl, always greedy for my cum”
"You want to come? Then start counting”
pt 2
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haveihitanerve · 2 months ago
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Dad How Do I but with Bruce Wayne.
Bruce who teaches life advice- showing kids how to tie a tie, how to tie their shoes, braid their hair, teaching young adults to do taxes, to surf, the best lawyers to hire when in trouble, how to avoid scams, he educates the less fortunate on the best places to get free food, where to go in Wayne Enterprises for a hot shower and some toiletries, how to eat at formal functions so the higher elite have one less thing to criticize them on. He teaches people how to do card tricks and make your niece laugh by pulling out a quarter from behind her ear, teaches moms how to rock their baby to sleep properly, teaches teens to do front flips and cartwheels and calculus, educates them on how to write job applications and two weeks notice letters. He teaches people to sew, to cook(alfred helps) to assemble an IKEA shelf, how to work a lawn mower, and all sorts of different things. And when his son dies… Bruce uses his account to share his grief, his story, shares everything about Jason, what a delight he was, how awesome he was, how much he loved to read and school… and then one day, he gets Batman to join a video. And the hero is stiff and everyone can see the exhaustion, the anger and sadness in his joints, his movements, radiating off him. But he sits down heavily into the chair Bruce Wayne had previously vacated… and begins to speak. He tells the story of Robin, his young child sidekick, who just like Jason Wayne, was murdered by the Joker. He tells everyone how his little boy tried to save Jason Todd, and how they both perished in the aftermath. He tells people about his grief, his anger, and why Batman is suddenly harsher and hurts more. “Because I hurt more.” he confesses quietly, and the people finally get to meet the man behind the mask (figuratively) and truly get to see who their hero really is. The account’s popularity skyrockets, and soon Batman is a lot more common to be seen, teaching people how to defend themselves and handle the Batarangs he knows they collect after he fights. Nightwing shows up too sometimes, teaching more elegant flips and tricks and they demonstrate their workout together, and a few months later, Batman shyly introduces his new Robin, same messy black hair as the one before, but slightly smaller, and theres something… more behind those lenses in his mask. But the kid is soon a fan favorite, making sarcastic comments and countering Nightwings witty remarks, and the people get to see a new side of Batman, get to watch as he rolls his eyes at them, as he uses them to teach people how to disguise themselves, ways to use clothes to stem blood, tie tourniquets. 
Then Red Hood returns. And a kid in Crime Alley catches him cursing at his jacket because a button fell off and he cant get it back on. “Um! Mr. Red Hood sir?” the kid pipes anxiously. Red Hood turns to him, angry, but the kid doesn't back down and just goes “You should watch ‘Mr. Wayne How Do I: Sewing’ it'll help.” and then he scampers off. And Jason is pissed and even more angry because of course while he was dead Bruce decides to become a father to everyone in Gotham. But he watches the video. And it helps. And… well, its one of the older videos. And Jason finds another old video. The one about… the one about his death. It shouldn't make his anger lessen, shouldn't make him cry, shouldn't bring him to Bruce’s doorstep where he reveals himself and they hug and cry and catch up and cry some more… but it does. 
Gothamites are a little surprised when their local Crime Lord appears on the channel, standing right next to Batman. Surprised, but pleased. Because Batman looks happy in a way he hasn't in a long time and well… Red Hood watched out for them too. And now their two protectors are working together.
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banj0possum · 11 months ago
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Bloody Red Roses
Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader
CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now
👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.
👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.
👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.
👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!
👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!
👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.
👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.
👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”
👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess
👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.
👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear
👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.
👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.
👑 “…”
👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”
👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”
👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.
👑 “Hm…”
👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.
👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?
👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.
👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.
👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.
👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.
👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”
👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.
👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..
👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.
👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..
👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)
👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.
👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..
👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”
👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.
👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless
👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”
👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..
👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”
👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…
👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him
👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys
👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”
👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.
👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!
👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”
👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.
👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!
👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.
👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.
👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”
👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch
👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!
👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!
👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”
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It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq
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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago
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Yandere Naga King // Part 2
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Part 1
Shian is the King of the Naga, the valued birthright of his family to one day earn the tribe’s respect as they murder the reigning King if they don’t offer their service to the heir. Many other tribes and kingdoms may say this is brutal but it was his way of life. 
“My King! A warrior of the canine race was found on our borders–how would you like to proceed?”
“The same we always have. Devour them.”
“Yes, my King.”
It was how his family established a kingdom in a world where the human kingdom was in the mood to acknowledge different tribes as kingdoms. Word has it that a hero had come to the humans that would unite all the separate tribes with some peacekeeping power. Naturally, Shian thought such a thing was the stuff of dreams; instead was planning to make the journey to gauge the threat of this new being. But of course his strength brings so much attention the chatty little snakes couldn’t help sharing about the oddest thing.
“Did you? Did you hear?
“Yes! Yes, I did! So beautiful! A beautiful thing!”
“A naga youngling! A naga youngling and their human parent!” 
“What a sight! What a sight to behold.”
Granted this news was not delivered maliciously but that didn’t matter to Shian. As King of the Naga it was his duty to protect the clear separation of all humans and Nagas. History and biology spoke volumes—Nagas are the better creatures. Shian was more eager than anything to prove this, especially on the journey to observe eliminate the hero meant to unite them all. But of course, this changes when he meets you.
“Oh (Y/n)! I saved our dearest Nox from a wild boar and I saved the body for a hearty meal!!! Can’t I come inside now!”
“No!”
“Please!? Wouldn’t you like it if I didn’t break the window, this time?”
Since he’s met you everything has changed. Now that he’s discovered that his destined mate is a fiery little human he’s had no choice but to reconsider. Now he can adore your flaws as a human and admire your unique traits even more. His skepticism about other humans hasn’t completely gone away but he’s plenty more merciful now that he has you to woo. 
“HISSS State your name and business human!”
“-I-I- just wanted to deliver the fruits I always do sir!”
“Hmm my mate did mention something about their usual shipment….fine but thank your stars I’ve decided not to gorge myself on those eyes of yours.”
“Y-y-yes Sir!”
Not to mention you have an adorable little Naga son! Not that he finds Nox particularly cute on his own but it’s the words he parrots from you that make him a delight to be around. It’s a biological thing that Nagas interested in a mate aren’t fond of their children previous or otherwise. Even when they’re created together, there’s a strong chance that paternal love humans expect may never appear. But he’s found when he acts as though that’s what he’s doing you excuse more of his behavior.
“Now to strike with your tail you’ll have to shift your weight like this."
“Oh I see!”
“Yes…good job…”
“Are you looking back at the window, again?”
“Well of course I am! You said they were looking, right?!”
He does find that the more time he finds with Nox he doesn’t hate him. He’s sure if he was any other little snakeling in his kingdom he’d fully be invested but this is the snakeling in the way of attaining his mate’s complete attention. This is why it’s easier to blame him than accept you’re not very interested in giving him your attention anyway. It does annoy him that Nox isn’t unaware of this. The little narc snakeling is happy to string him along; baiting him with his praises to you to learn things from him.
“What?! I thought you weren’t watching the fight?!”
“I didn’t but the forest talks. So how do you move so fast across the forest like that?”
“Hmph that’s a secret. Family secret, actually.”
“Oh, that’s a shame…guess I ought to tell them you could never see us being a family.”
“What?! That’s not what I–”
“Guess I'll call out in one. Two. Thre–”
“Okay okay pay attention I’m only showing you once.”
“Yes!”
In the Naga King's heart of hearts he kind of really loves likes this domestic life with you two. It feels as though the whole world is right when he can spend all day following and pestering you as he learns more about you. But it won’t stay that way forever. And unfortunately, his entourage and advisors will find him. Reminding him of that pesky hero he has to eat meet. It’s simple to debate with his team about taking you with him or sending you back home to his newly constructed castle. Of course, he neglects to ask your opinion on the matter and must reap the consequences.
“My (Y/n)...why are all of my servants tied on the drying line?”
“They started moving my stuff. I thought I told you and your little buddies to stop touching my house.”
“ But how are we supposed to move you to my castle?”
“What?!”
“(Y/n)...please put down the knife!”
After talking you down committing his entire entourage to chores you wanted done he ordains that you should try accompanying him on his mission to the human kingdom. Leaving out the part about the hero he suggests that he leave some of his servants to tend to your home and babysit Nox. This is entirely so that he can convince you to come to his castle one day. Not just so he can enjoy some alone time with you. And while you’d like to refuse Nox thinks it’s awesome. When you aren’t chasing the Naga servants away they regard him with kindness and very giving. And it’s that same observation that has you kissing Nox goodbye as you depart for the human castle.
“Alright, Nox be good…try not to grow up too much while I’m gone.”
“Of course not…if you want I can send my shedded tail skin to you so you can ‘see me grow up. ”
“Nox don’t do that. That’ll be weird.”
“I thought so too but the others say it’s an endearing thing.”
It’s going to be hard, returning to civilization. Since you’ve been isekai’d you limited almost all of your interactions with other humans and now you were going to meet the protagonist. But you wouldn’t let your mind be completely occupied because you would be distracted by the obsessed Naga king.
Part 3: ....
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lalunanymph · 3 months ago
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I GET THOSE GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME
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summary. your husband decides to take playtime to the next level
warnings. fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is pregnant, reader has children with sylus, reader is his submissive, teasing, orgasm denial, oral, nipple play, clit play, orgasm control, bdsm, bondage, panel gags, panty gags, petnames (good girl, doll, my love, my wife, darling, sweetie), sir kink, biting, edging, free use, mild exhibitionism, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamics, begging, super indulgent and so self-ship coded :,)
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The flickering vintage lamp spilling warm, orange light on his large, blackwood desk is the only accompaniment to Sylus’s late night work. 
His sharp ears, however, detect a hint of movement, and he looks up in time to find you standing by the doorway, hair mused and face still warm with sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.
“Mhm... love? You’re not asleep yet.”
Those crimson hues soften at the sight of his beloved wife, a surge of affection and warmth filling his chest.
“Did I wake you, doll?” 
A hint of amusement dances in his ruby gaze as you pout and pad over to him. Sylus doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, dragging you onto his lap. Your head rests perfectly in the dip of his chest, your eyes slipping close to enjoy the warmth his broader body offered. 
He can faintly make out the small protrusion of your belly hiding underneath the silky black nightgown you wore that left little to the imagination. Your husband’s large hand strokes through your hair, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head.
“You know I cannot sleep if you’re not in the same bed as me,” your petulance earns a chuckle, Sylus’s blood red eyes twinkling.
“I have some documents to review and then I’ll be in bed soon with you, doll.”
But, you wouldn’t budge, stubbornly twining your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his. 
Your body heat seeps past the thin sleep robe he wore, straight into his skin which was tingling from your close proximity. 
“I think I’ll just take a doze here.”
“Are you sure, doll?” He exhales a short laugh. “It’s not exactly comfortable to sleep on me, but if you can wait for me to be done, I promise I will carry you back into the bedroom.”
You sigh, and shake your head. “I don’t think I can sleep, either.” A sly smile plays in the corners of your mouth, and Sylus feels a shiver of excitement running down his spine.
“Doll, are you saying what I think you’re saying…?”
No longer sleepy-eyed, you were awake and teasing, your hands pressing flat onto his broad chest. 
“Well, since we both can’t sleep…” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. Sylus did not disappoint, of course, just as sharp and keen as you are whenever it came to the matters of fulfilling your shared lust.
His hands came to wrap around your waist, sliding down to grip the bare skin of your exposed thighs. “Hmm, what do you have brewing in that devious mind, my beautiful, sexy wife?” 
You fight back a smile, pretending to be coy and demure. 
“Do you remember that night at the Eizer gala? Where you gagged me with my own panties in the bathroom while you took me there? Or, the beach when you tied me up before you collared me and made me yours in every way possible?” 
Sparks of heat light the base of his spine, your words instantly bringing to mind the memories of past carnal encounters which he holds dearly in his soul. 
Sylus grins, his eyes darkening with arousal at your words. He loves that you’ve been thinking about your previous play sessions, and the thought of having you bound and gagged again was incredibly arousing to him. He reaches out and gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“Mhm… you’ve been thinking about that, haven’t you, doll? You want to be tied up and gagged again?” 
A tremor of excitement twists in your gut, tightening the band of arousal around your belly. 
“Yes, Sir. I want to completely submit my body to you again, Sir.”
Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his possessive fire roaring within him at your admittance. He loves it when you desire to submit completely to him, to give yourself over to him in every single way. 
“Mhm, that’s my good girl. And you’ll do exactly as I say, doll? You’ll allow me to do anything I want with your body?” 
You nod, your eyes drooping to half-mast from the desire thrumming in your veins. “Anything, Sir… anything you please. Hurt me, tease me… I want it all.” 
Sylus growls at your words, his mind racing with all the things he wants to do to you. He knew that he had to keep himself somewhat restrained, as you’re pregnant with his child, but he can still have you in so many different ways.
“Anything I please, doll? And you’ll be completely obedient and submissive like a good girl should?” 
“Yes, Sir,” you answer docilely. “Anything you want… I will be your good submissive.”
Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his carmine eyes boring into yours, his gaze dark and dangerous. 
“Mhm… I won’t go easy on you, my love. You need to understand that. If you give yourself completely to me, you’ll be completely at my mercy. There’s no backing out once we start. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” 
You bite on your lower lip, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Sir. I know what I want and what you can provide. I’m ready for it.” 
Sylus smirks, satisfied with your answer. 
“Then, I have something special planned for you, doll. I’ve purchased a surprise. Do you want to know what it is?” 
Your eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it, Sir?” 
Sylus releases your chin and leans back in his chair, a smug grin on his face.
“Mhm, doll, I’ve always wanted to try something new. I've been looking into some… equipment. Specialized handcuffs, designed for a specific reason.”
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers the next words: “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
Your curiosity is at an all time high, the eagerness to uncover these new methods he had up his sleeve to torture and tease you driving you wild.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Sir.” 
Sylus’ grin grows wider as he watches you shiver with anticipation. He loves seeing your excitement, your eagerness to be at his mercy. 
“Doll, I know you’re going to enjoy this. But, first, we need to talk about safe words. Do you remember our rules of play?” 
“Yes, Sir,” you begin to recite the rules from the top of your head. “Red is for ‘stop’, yellow is for ‘slow down’ and green means ‘yes’.”
Sylus nods with approval, satisfied that you remember the rules. He knows it’s important to establish a system of communication, especially for situations like this. 
“Very good, doll. I’m glad you remember. And you’ll use them, right? You won’t hesitate to use a safeword if something becomes too intense or uncomfortable for you, correct?” 
His large palm rests on your belly, reminding you of this precious gift you’re carrying—his second son and third baby which he loves with his entire soul. Sylus would hate himself if something were to happen to you in the middle of playing that would unintentionally harm Dante. 
You nod, solemn and sure. “Yes, Sir.” 
Sylus moves his hand to rest on our face, his touch gentle but firm, his eyes locked on yours. 
“Good girl. Now, I have a few other rules for you. If you do something without my permission, or if you disobey me, I will punish you. Are you ready to hear the rules, doll?” 
“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, your heartbeat thudding with a mixture of dread and excitement.
Sylus can sense the contradicting emotions, his eyes darkening at your eagerness, the dark flame of dominance burning within him as he prepares to lay down the rules.
“Rule number one: you will not touch yourself. Do you understand?” 
You shiver at the demanding implications of his order, nodding. “Yes, Sir.” 
Sylus can’t help but to grin at your shiver, your body responding to his crisp command. He knows you’re excited and willing to submit to him. 
“Mhm, alright. Rule number two: you will remain submissive and obedient, following my every command. No hesitating, no questioning my authority. Do I make myself clear?” 
Again, you nod, growing restless on his lap, feeling the heat of his bigger body seeping into the skin of your split and bare thighs wrapped around his waist. 
“Yes, Sir.” 
Sylus slides his hand down from your face to your neck, his fingers closing around your collar, tugging you closer to him. 
“Mhm, good girl. And rule number three: you will tell me exactly how you feel, doll. I want to know every bit of pleasure and pain I caused you. You will not hold back, and you will not be shy, understand?” 
This time your teeth find refuge in your lower lip, biting down on it to quell the mounting sexual tension threatening to squeeze the air from your lungs. 
“Yes, Sir… oh God, yes.” 
Sylus grins, his need to dominate growing stronger with each of your words, each shiver of your body. He can feel the power he has over you, the control he has over your body and mind. He’s addicted to it, the feeling of being able to control you completely.
“You’re being such a good girl, doll. But, there’s one more rule. One more important rule, doll. Do you know what it is?” 
“N-no, Sir.”
Sylus’s predatory smirk widens as he looks into your eyes, his hand still holding onto your collar, pulling you closer to him. He leans in, his lips nearly touching yours, his voice lowered to a rough, possessive whisper. 
“Rule number four, doll: you will follow all of my other rules, or I will punish you. And my punishments will not be gentle.”
Your agreement comes swiftly, born on the willingness of your eager nod. “Yes, Sir. I will follow all of your rules.” 
His ruby eyes gleam with satisfaction, hearing your words. He knows you’re ready to submit to him, to give up control, to be completely at his mercy. 
“That’s a good girl. Now, are you ready to try out your new equipment, doll?” 
“Yes, Sir.” 
He almost laughs at the excitement leaking through your tone, how your eyes are shining brightly with anticipation and lust.
Sylus opens a drawer under his desk, pulling out a set of handcuffs made of sturdy leather. He holds them up for you to see, the black bands connected to each other by a short chain.
“Here they are, doll. Specialized for this situation.”
You marvel at them, reaching out to graze a finger against the supple leather. “They’re beautiful, Sir.” 
He can’t help but grin at your words, the need to dominate you flaring the flames within him as he sees the eager submission in your eyes. He knows you’re excited to be bound by these handcuffs. 
“I thought you’d like them, doll. But, they’re not just designed to look beautiful. They’re also designed to be completely inescapable. There’s no wriggling out these handcuffs, doll. Once they’re on, they’re on.” 
Your breathing hitches, the idea of being completely bound and helpless at his mercy causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. 
“Will you gag me too, Sir? So we won’t accidentally wake up the twins.” 
Your babies are just down the hallway, sound asleep in their nursery and oblivious to the wicked games their parents are playing in daddy’s office. Since they’re starting to teeth, getting Sabrina and Protus to fall asleep was an endurance contest every night, and the idea of having to get up in the middle of playing to soothe them back to sleep daunts you. 
Sylus smirks, seeing the shiver of excitement run through your body as you ask about the gag. As if he can read your mind, he can tell what’s troubling you; how you’re eager for more and to be completely under his control.
“Yes, we wouldn’t want to ruin playtime tonight because I have so much in store for you, doll. You will be wearing this gag for the entire night. But, I won’t use a ball gag, my love. I have something much better.”
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tilt your head to the side. “What is it, Sir?” 
Sylus moves his hand back to the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a slim, black device with a leather strap attached to the top. 
“It’s a special gag designed specifically for this kind of play, doll. It’s not a ball gag, it’s a panel gag. It’ll look more elegant on you, much more suited to a beautiful woman like you. And it’ll do a wonderful job of silencing your moans.”
Your eyes glimmer with wonder. “It’s beautiful, Sir. I love it. And the dildo insert—” you reach out to touch the phallic plastic protruding from behind the gag. “—that’s supposed to pin my tongue down, right?” 
Sylus’s smirk deepens at your enthusiasm, hearing the wonder and lust in your voice. He looks at you, feeling a shiver of desire run through him at knowing how much you want to be bound and silenced.
“You’re right, doll. The insert is to pin down your tongue, keeping you completely silenced and unable to speak. And the way it sticks out like that… it’ll look perfect on you, doll.”
“Mhm, like I’m sucking on something… naughty… while you have your way with me.” 
Sylus’s breath hitches at your words, the image you paint in his mind sending a wave of dark desire flowing through him. His eyes darken as he imagines you bound and gagged with the phallic panel gag, mouth stuffed full and completely at his mercy. His control is crumbling, the urge to fight back the need to stake his claim on your body weakening. 
“You’re being such a naughty tease, doll. So incredibly sexy with your words. You want to be my helpless plaything, don’t you?” 
You don’t help the urge from taking over him when you nod, meek and submissive. “Yes, Sir. I want to be controlled by you, Sir.” 
His ruby eyes darken with a dangerous gleam as the words leave your plush lips, the need to dominate and get you screaming for him burning hotter with each moment that passes. “Mhm, you’re mine, doll. Completely and utterly mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that. Stand up, doll.” 
He gets up from the chair and guides you to the front of the desk, holding the gag and handcuffs in his hands.
“Time to get these on you, doll.”
You demurely get to your feet, fidgeting with your hands. But, before he puts you under his control, you want to do something for him. 
“Sir… can I strip for you?” 
Sylus’s breath trembles at your question, his eyes flicking down your body as he imagines you stripping for him, revealing your bare skin for his hungry gaze.
“... you want to strip for me, doll? You want to give me a show before I bind you and gag you?” 
His words elicit a dark wave of heat washing all over you, involuntarily making you moan softly.
“Yes, Sir. I want to make this good for you, too.” 
Sylus’s eyes darken with that all-consuming desire to claim you, a low growl escaping his chest as he looks at you with the fire of his immense heat. 
“Go ahead then, doll. Show me how much you want to be bound by me.” 
He sets the handcuffs and gag down on the desk, then crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of his desk, watching you with a heated gaze. He looks devilishly handsome in the dim light, frosty silver hair mused from your wandering fingers, and those piercing dark red gaze drinking in your every movement and expressions. 
You bite your lip and sway your hips, moving to a slow rhythm, starting with your nightgown straps. Gently, you ease them off your arms and let them fall, then you peel the band of your dress down your chest, sliding the slinky material over your barely there baby bump and down your thighs, leaving you in just your underwear. Glancing at him through your lashes, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your black thong, teasing him. 
Sylus’s breath is coming faster now as he watches you, his eyes glued to your body as you move with slow, alluring motions. The sight of you stripping for him, revealing the curves of your body and the soft skin of your pregnant stomach makes the fiery desire to claim you blaze even hotter. 
“You’re so beautiful, doll,” your husband praises you in a low, husky tone. “So damn beautiful.”
His fingers are starting to itch, aching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms. But, he keeps his arms crossed, forcing himself to wait, to watch you finish your little strip tease for him. 
You hook the thong and drag it down your hips. With a sweet yet devious giggle, you ball it in your hand and toss the lace scrap onto his chest. 
Sylus smirks and catches the lace underwear, his fingers closing around the soft fabric. He looks down at the garment in his hand and then back up to you, his eyes darkening with desire and his slipping control. 
“Mhm… doll… you’re being very naughty, throwing your underwear at me like that.” 
He brings the tiny scrap of lace to his nose, inhaling your scent and a growl escapes his chest, low and possessive. 
Your eyes darken with a similar shade of desire and longing. “Anything for you, Sir.” 
Sylus can feel the fire to claim you threatening to engulf him, burning hotter with each moment that passes, his blood-red eyes locked on you and the desire in your own restless gaze. 
“That’s what I like to hear, doll.”
Your husband sets your thong on the desk and gets up, moving to stand in front of you. His hands reach out, fingers gently tracing the outline of your hips. “Turn around, sweetie. Let me put these handcuffs on you.”
Obeying him, you turn around, and rest your wrists on the small of your back.
Sylus’s eyes darken at your perfect submission, as he sees your wrists in their position, ready for him to bind. He picks up the handcuffs, the leather cold in his hand, and snaps the bands around your wrists. Pulling them taut, he secures them in place and snaps them shut with a click.
“How do they feel, doll?”
The low rumble of his question lights the warmth of arousal between your thighs, and you squirm, breathing growing heavier. “Heavenly, Sir… I can’t escape them.”
Sylus lets out a chuckle and a low growl, his need to dominate flaring up as he watches you squirm, testing the cuffs, trying to pull free. He takes a step closer behind you, his chest pressed flush against your back.
“That’s what I love about these cuffs, doll. They’re completely inescapable. No matter how much you struggle, you’re not getting out.”
Once upon a time, the idea of being bound by the infamous Onychinus leader would have made your fearless heart tremble. But, after falling in love with him, marrying him and giving him two beautiful twins and with another baby on the way, the fear is no longer there, replaced by the intense desire to always belong inexplicably to him. 
You lean against his chest, a soft moan slipping past your teeth. “Feels… so good…”
Sylus wraps his arms around you, his chest pressed close against your back, the heat of his body warming you. He pulls you closer, his hands running along your hips and sides, up to your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your skin. The feel of you against his chest, the sounds of your sweet moans, makes him burn hotter for you.
“Mhm, such a good girl. The way you respond to being bound is so damn sexy, doll.”
Your hips involuntarily undulate, desire singing in your veins. 
“They make me feel so sexy, Sir.” 
Sylus tightens his arms around you, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hips as you grind your lower body against his. He can feel your desire, hear the need in your voice, and his control is close to snapping. Gritting his teeth, he fights back against the urge to just bend you over the desk and take you like an animal. 
“You can really feel how helpless you are now, can’t you, my love? These cuffs make you feel so vulnerable, so exposed… so completely under my control.”
No one can say your husband wasn’t an expert and talking through your mounting desire. You tilt your head back and moan softly. 
“Yes, Sir. I feel so helpless… It's intoxicating.” 
Sylus leans down, his lips hovering over your exposed neck, just below the line of your collar. He can feel his possessive fire burning ever brighter, the instincts to devour and pleasure you taking over.
“Mhm, doll… you’re completely at my mercy like this. You can’t do anything except wait for me to touch you, to tease you, to give you whatever I want.” 
Your body begins to shake, the force of his words enough to bring your composure to its knees. 
“Please…”
Your Master and husband smirks, feeling your body tremble with desire, the need in your voice fueling the dominant flame within him. He doesn’t give you what you want, instead continuing to tease you, his lips just barely touching your neck.
“Please what, doll? Use your words.”
A gasp flies past your lips, your eyes squeezing close; the words that spill from your tongue are wanton and take you aback with how desperate you are for your husband. 
“Use me, Sir. Touch me. Tease me. Make me your toy, Sir.”
Sylus grins, feeling the power surging through him at your words. He loves it when you give yourself over to him, when you surrender to his indomitable control. 
“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it, doll? You want me to use you, to do whatever I want and please to your sweet, hot, tight little body?” 
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, breath hot and insistent.
“You want to be my toy, my plaything.” 
“Yes, Sir,” your voice shakes from the force of your desire. “I want to be your filthy plaything… your sweet toy…”
Your husband’s dominant fire roars, the possessive need within him flaring up at your words. He knows you’re completely his; his to do as he pleases. Your submission and your surrender only serve to stoke the flames of his desire, making him want to push you further, to take you to the edge and beyond. 
“That’s exactly what you are, doll. You’re my dirty, filthy sweet little toy. And I’m going to use however I please.”
Those words and promises… they drive you insane with need and want.
“Oh God… oh God…” you groan needily. 
Sylus moves his lips down your neck, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin, leaving possessive marks on the tender stretch of your throat. His hands wander down your body, tracing the curves of your hips and stomach, gently pinching and tugging on your swollen, tender nipples until your hips stutter, his touch setting your skin ablaze. 
“Mhm, doll… say it. I want you to say it. That you’re my toy. That you belong to me.” 
Your head tilts back onto his chest, your breath coming out in hard pants. “I’m your toy, Sir. Your beloved toy and I belong to you.” 
He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Hearing you say the words, hearing you claim yourself as his, only serves to fan the flames of his desire to dominate even further. Your husband pulls you flush against his chest, his body pressed against your back.
“That’s right, my doll. You’re mine. Mine to do as I please. Mine to play with, to tease and to take however I want.”
His lips move to your ear, voice low and dangerous. 
“And trust me when I say this, sweetie. I plan on using you all night.” 
Your hips quiver, the surging heat clawing through your body, demanding to be whetted. “Please, Sir. Make it hurt. Make me cry. I want you to consume me.”
This dark game you and your husband love to play will never cease to enthrall you, leaving you bright-eyed and impatient for him to fulfill your desires. 
Sylus’ demanding nature roars at your words. He understands you’re giving him explicit permission to push you to your limits, to take you beyond the edge of pleasure and into the aching terrain of submission. 
“Careful what you wish for, sweetie… you’re giving me all the permission I need to do things to you that will make you scream and cry. Are you sure you won’t regret this?” 
“I won’t, Sir,” you promise. “I need it… I want it…” 
He grins, knowing that he has your complete trust and surrender. Your white-haired devilish husband knows he’s going to push you to your limits and he’s going to make you enjoy every second of it.
“Hmm. Alright, doll… you asked for it.”
Without warning, he bites down on your neck, his sharp canines sinking into the delicate skin of your throat, marking you as his. Your body jerks instinctively, and he moves his hands to your wrists, gripping it tightly in his grasp, pulling you back against him, keeping you captive and pliant to the pleasure he’s eliciting in your bound body. 
“A-ah!” 
Tears fill your eyes, your loud moan catching you off guard. 
Suddenly, you hear a rustle over the baby monitor he has installed near his office desk, and you gasp softly, catching his attention. Sylus stills, following your gaze to the baby monitor, hearing one of the twins starting to sniffle, having been startled by your shattering moan. 
He grumbles and releases your wrists, reluctantly pulling away from you. Sylus can tell from the cadence of the tiny sniffles that Sabrina has woken up from your unintentionally jarring moan. 
“Damn it, doll,” he hisses, “you woke the baby with your screaming. Are you happy now?” 
Despite being bound and at his whim, you shoot him a glare and whisper-yell: “That was what the gag was for, Sylus!” 
The rustling continues over the baby monitor, Sabrina smacking her lips and yawning. Your husband makes to move to the nursery, wanting to comfort his baby girl when you shake your head and whisper, “Wait! Let’s just give her some time to settle down…”
He grumbles again, the aching need to dominate you temporarily stifled by this unforeseen interruption. He knows that it was his fault for not gagging you sooner before proceeding with playtime, and he can’t help but feel frustrated at his lack of foresight.
“Fine, doll. We’ll give her some time. But, trust me, when she goes back to sleep, we’re picking right back up where we left off.” Your husband’s ruby red eyes seem to glow in the lack of light with the intensity of his need to assert his dark desires over you. “And this time,” he promises, “you will be wearing a gag.” 
Nodding, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the baby monitor. Sylus remains quiet, too, sliding his hands up and down your arms and shoulders, praying to whatever deity above that his sweet children will remain asleep while he has his way with their mama. 
Like his prayer was answered, Sabrina stops sniffling and coos, rustling sounding over the scratchy audio. Then, soft snores fill the office, the baby monitor picking up on both the twins sound asleep. 
Sylus waits until his baby girl’s snores turn into soft, even breathing, indicating that she’s fallen back asleep. When he’s absolutely and 100% sure she’s knocked out cold, he glances down at you, corners of his lips twitching in a smirk at the sight of you tense and waiting in his arms. 
“I hope you know what you’re in for, doll. You asked me to push you to your limits and now that our precious babies are asleep… I’m not holding back anymore.”
You nod, squeezing your thighs together, despite the guilt swimming in your soul at how easily you had already disobeyed his orders tonight. 
“Sir… I’m sorry, Sir.” 
Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re squirming from the heat in between your thighs, your body responding to his dominating words. “You’re sorry, sweetie? Yes, you should be. You woke the baby and now we had to stop. But, don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson, doll.”
Your eyes flash and your shoulders tense when you hear him pick up the panel gag from the desk. 
Like he’s completely attuned to you, Sylus smirks when you turn around to show him the flash of excitement in your eyes. He holds up the panel gag, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Doll, this is the exact punishment you get for waking the baby. You’re going to be wearing this gag for the rest of the night.” 
He shifts closer to you, reaching forward to tilt your chin up. 
“Open your mouth, doll.”
You obey him with no resistance, letting your mouth fall open. 
Sylus’s grin stretches wider when he watches you obediently drop open your mouth, your eyes filling with excitement and submission. He lifts the panel gag up, sliding the black phallus between your teeth and securing it behind your head. 
“There you go… mhm… you look so beautiful with the gag in your mouth, doll.”
He leans in, lips brushing your ear and inciting shivers down your spine from his honeyed threat. 
“Now, let’s see how loud I can make you scream.”
You gurgle his name, biting down on the black plastic, humiliation and desire running through your veins. 
Sylus runs his hands over your body, tracing your curves and planting his mouth on any inch of skin he can reach, leaving his marks all over. He sees the way you look at him, the desire for more melting in the depths of your gaze, and the way your body responds to his touch. It only serves to fan the flames of his need to dominate. 
“You like being gagged, don’t you, my love?” He brushes his fingers across the outline of the gag, moving his hand to grip your neck lightly, enjoying your stuttering breath and muffled moan. “You like the way it feels when I take control and you have no choice but to surrender to me, don’t you, darling?” 
Tears of pleasure and yearning fill your eyes and you nod, your hips twitching pathetically from the impact of his debauched words.
Sylus smirks at the tears in your eyes, knowing it’s him that is making you feel the way he wants you to. He can tell that you’re completely engrossed in the moment, that you’re drowning in the subtleties of this power dynamic between you two. 
“I can see it in your eyes, my love. You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” His voice is a low, alluring rumble that comes from his chest, vibrating against your back. “You want me to take control and make you mine, completely and utterly.”
The gag slurs your plea, but he hears you all the same. “Pwease.” 
The ache in his loins flares up at your muffled plea, the way you’re begging for him makes Sylus even more excited to deny you.
“You want more, doll? You want me to edge you hard and fast? You want me to deny you and make you drip with pure, pathetic need?” 
You nod desperately, clipping your hips forward, a slutty tick of libidinous desire you cannot control.
Sylus grins at your body’s desperation manifesting in the uncontrollable movement of your hips. He sees the way you’re squirming and pleading for more, even when he hasn’t touched you fully yet; his sick, twisted desires growing harder to control at the sight. 
“You’re so eager, doll. So eager to give yourself to me, to let me take control. But, you have to be patient, doll. I’m going to make you feel sensations you've never felt before. But first…”
Sylus presses closer, his lips hovering close to your ear: “I’m going to do something you won’t like.” 
You chew on the phallic silicone stuck between your teeth in frustration, tensing up and waiting for his next words.
He notices the tautness of your jaw, grinning at your reaction. The tension in your body as you wait for his next command is delicious, and he takes a moment to soak in the sadistic enjoyment he’s getting from the way you’re desperately waiting for his next command.
“I’m going to give you a choice, doll. And I’m not going to tell you which one is worse.” 
There is nothing you can do but nod. Sylus’s large hands drift to your midsection, curling around your waist. With a nudge of his knee, he spreads your thighs wider, leaving you vulnerable and unsteady on your feet with nothing but his grip around you to keep you upright. 
He grins, fully enjoying how helpless you are, knowing that you’re willing to do just about anything to please him. He raises three fingers in front of your face, chuckling darkly. 
“Doll, I’m going to count down from three and I want you to choose one of my fingers. Whichever one you choose will be the punishment that you will get.”
Behind you, he grins, knowing that he’s setting you up for a sadistic game that is designed to push your limitations and boundaries.
“Are you ready, doll?”
You jerk your head, burbling a muffled, “Yes.” 
Sylus grins, the fire inside of him burning brighter at the sight of your eagerness. He starts to count down, slowly and deliberately, his voice taking on a rough edge that sends a shiver down your spine.
“Three… two… one…”
You blindly bump your nose against his ring finger—the third one. 
Sylus grins cruelly, seeing the finger you chose, knowing you have fallen right into his trap. He takes a moment to enjoy the moment, letting the anticipation build before delivering the punchline. 
“Heh… doll, that was the choice you would have wanted to avoid the most.” 
He grabs your hair, turning you around to face him, fingers tangling in your soft strands as he pulls your head backward, making sure to keep eye contact. 
“Silly, stupid little doll. You fell right into my trap,” he croons, low and dangerously.
Sylus lets your fear and anxiety marinate, unwilling to break the tense silence for the grand reveal. You run your tongue over the plastic cock stuffed in your mouth, simmering in your frustration and dread.
Your tormentor chuckles, watching the way you squirm, delighting in the look of frustration on your expression, how your jaw tenses as you flick your tongue against the plastic phallus in anticipation. 
“Mhm… someone’s eager to know what their punishment is, aren’t they? You want so desperately to know what I have in store for you, doll?” 
As much as you’re dreading the reveal, you can’t stand the thought of being stuck in limbo. You twist your wrists in the handcuffs and bob your head.
“Pwease, Sir,” you speak past the gag. 
Sylus is immensely enjoying the way you beg for him, calling him ‘Sir’ in a thick, slurry voice that’s impeded by the panel gag. He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from your ear, his voice taking on a low, dangerous edge. 
“You’re being so desperate and eager… it’s so easy to tease you, doll. But, since you’re begging me nicely, I suppose I’ll tell you what punishment you’ve chosen.”
He lets the words dangle in mid-air, intentionally drawing out more of your frustration. If there’s one thing your husband excels at, it’s being a goddamn tease. 
You make a sound of curiosity from the back of your throat, brows dipping together in pure frustration. 
Sylus grins, seeing the way your frustration and dread is mounting, the plastic bit of the gag digging against your teeth as you bite down on it in anticipation. 
“You’re just so cute when you’re desperate, my love. But, I suppose I’ve teased you enough…”
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, the words making your blood run cold. 
“Your punishment, doll… is two days of edging.”
Your stomach sinks right to your toes, your breath catching and eyes widening.
“Nwooooo,” you protest, shaking your head, already regretting your agreement for these titillating games. “Pweeasseee…”
All your resistance does is make him grin, seeing your reaction, the way your eyes widen in shock and dread as he reveals your punishment. He can feel the sadistic glee surging in his chest at your pleading voice, begging him to change his mind.
Sylus grips your chin, forcing you to stare right into his glinting, ruby eyes. “Nuh-uh. No can do, sweetie. You made your choice and now you’re going to have to suffer the consequences.” 
He runs a hand through your hair, pulling tighter on the strands, making sure you’re gazing directly into his eyes when he utters these devastating words: 
“You’re not getting out of this, doll.”
Tears glitter in your eyes and you hiccup, the pain of his tight grip around your hair pebbling your nipples, making them irresistible to his wandering mouth. 
Sylus ducks his head, sucking on them gently and making them shiny with his spit, earning a whine from you. 
“Mhm…” he sees the tears glossing in your eyes, the way you’re flushed and responding to his ministrations. 
“Look at you, doll. You’re desperate and begging already and I’ve only just started,” he chuckles darkly, “You’re going to be in so much trouble by the time these two days are up.” 
He kisses a path from your chest to your neck, brushing his heated lips against your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.
“But, you’re going to be a good girl and take it, aren’t you, doll?”
There is nothing you can do but lick and suck on the gag, nodding furiously; hoping he would take mercy on your poor, keyed up body and disregard his punishment.
Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re chewing on the gag in frustration, answering his question without saying a word. Tenderness seeps into his heart and he runs his knuckles down your cheek.
“You’re being so good for me already. But, you’re going to have to be even more of an angel for these next two days if you want me to give you what you want, sweetie.” 
Without warning, he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his dark and intense eyes. 
“Can you do that, sweetie? Can you be a good girl and let your Sir edge you for two days?” 
Tearily, you nod. 
Sylus is satisfied with your answer, the way you’re still desperately agreeing to his terms. 
“Doll, your desperation is delicious. You’re so eager to please, to be a good girl…”
Gently, your husband runs his hand over your cheek, his fingers tracing the outline of your gag in a soft caress. 
“But, you still need to wait a little longer, doll. Two days. What happens after that… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 
It must be the hormones or the baby you’re carrying inside of you, because you start to tear up, wondering if you can endure such torment and if he will begin it tonight.
Sylus’s smirk grows at your reaction, how you’re squirming and already on the verge of tears just from the anticipation. 
“Mhm… my love, you’re already so desperate from such a simple punishment. I wonder how you’re going to fare by the end of the two days…” 
He moves behind you, his hands resting on your hips, his front pressed up against your ass, letting you feel the half-hard presence of his cock digging into your thighs. 
“But, I suppose there’s no time like the present to begin.” 
Your body seizes and you cry out softly, whether from anticipation or dread, you have no idea. 
He grins, feeling your reaction to his words and touch, the way your body tenses up and the hitch in your breath and composure. He can feel your skin heating up, the desire and need building within you from just a simple touch. 
Sylus brushes a tender kiss onto your temple. “Mhm… you’re so sensitive and responsive tonight. You’re just begging to be touched, aren’t you?” 
He moves closer, his body digging harder against your backside, his lips trailing hot kisses down your spine. 
A soft, involuntary moan slips past your gagged mouth and you nod, wishing he could go lower. 
Sylus thoroughly enjoys hearing your moan, the way you’re practically begging for more with your body. He can feel your skin slowly burning with the aching heat, the want and need coursing through your body. 
“You want more, don’t you? My dirty little desperate doll.” 
He kisses his way further down your back, each brush of his lips on the sensitive expanse of your back making you twitch, his lips slowly inching lower and lower.
Your eyes roll back into your head, a steady stream of moans trickling past the black, phallic plastic and leather strap over your mouth. 
The heat from his mouth makes your entire body tingle, and Sylus grins at your non-stop moans, growing bolder and more demanding. 
“Doll, your skin is so hot and sensitive tonight. You’re so responsive to my touch… so desperate for more.” 
He moves his lips even lower, trailing them over your backside, nipping your skin and leaving a stinging bite right on the plush globe of your right ass. 
You squeal from the pinch of pain, back arching and body growing warmer. The need to come undone blazes hot in your veins, and you wish Sylus will just give into you.
But, he only grins, chuckling low and darkly at your reaction; the way you arch your back and lead for more, the way you’re begging for your release. He knows you’re fighting it, trying to hold back. Trying to be a good girl for him and obey his rules. Your sadistic husband loves seeing you at his mercy like this, desperate and needy, begging for him to save you from this torment with your glassy eyes and bulging cheeks stuffed full from the gag. 
“Oh, doll… you're such a good girl for me. But, you need to wait a little bit longer… you need to wait for two more days.”
He kisses his way back up your spine, his lips and teeth marking every inch of your body. Sylus gently nudges you against the edge of his desk, guiding you to your back, careful not to crush your bound palms from the weight of your body pressing into them. 
He lays you against the cool wood, taking his time to run his hands down the length of your body. 
Those calloused, thick fingers play with your nipples, squeezing and teasing them until you cry out and gurgle his name. 
In this position, it’s a breeze for him to keep your thighs wide open, using his large and warm hands to hold you wide as his tongue dances along the seam of your inner thigh, teasing the length of your pelvic bone.
Sylus smirks when he hears your choked moans, seeing the way your hips twitch in an effort to get his mouth right where you need him the most. 
Patience, he murmurs and gives your throbbing clit a little kiss.
Your body seizes and you shiver, desperately undulating your hips for more friction—for more of him. 
“You’re being such a good girl for me,” Sylus coos, trailing his mouth to the apex of your thighs languidly. “Such a good… girl…”
Your hips jerk violently at the sensation of his mouth on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. Sylus eats you out passionately, not holding back, flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves relentlessly; mouthing your folds and spitting it back out, branding his name on your clit with his tongue. 
He can tell you’re on the verge of coming undone, your hips bucking up and an endless stream of moans blessing his heated ears. 
The second he tastes your orgasm crashing around his tongue, Sylus pulls back, laughing low and devilishly at your chagrined cry. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, doll. Were you close?” 
He eyes the tears beading on your lash line and chuckles darkly, smoothing his palm over your stomach soothingly. 
“There, there. You need to wait a bit longer, my love. Two more days.” 
Your husband’s cursed mouth kisses his way up your body, his frosty white locks falling right in his face, the tips tickling your bare sternum as he moves his lips to your swollen nipples again. 
The tears gathering in your eyes begin to drip down your cheeks, and you start to sob.
Sylus pauses, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks, hearing your hitched cries and the way your body is shaking from your ruined orgasm and the effort of holding back. 
“Mhm… sweetie, you’re being so good for me,” he praises you softly, pressing his body onto yours, his hand caressing your cheek and thumb wiping away your tears. “But, you need to wait a little bit longer, alright? Two days. You can do it.” 
Shivering, you sniffle and nod.
Sylus grins. “That’s my girl.” He sees the shiver wracking your body, how you’re sniffling and knows you’re trying your best to obey his rules. As a sign of comfort, he pulls you even closer, his body flush against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you tight. 
“You're such a good little doll for obeying me. You’re doing so well…”
He leans in, his lips close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.
“Now… how shall I reward good little dolls who listen to their Sirs, hmm?” 
The answer comes in the form of Sylus edging you for throughout the night, his mouth, tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to the brink, only to rip you back time and again. By the end of the night, you’re left sobbing, aching, and unfulfilled. 
He removes the gag, but keeps the cuffs around your wrists, leading you to the office sofa where his arms wrap around you and he caresses your hair, slowly bringing you down from the high. His heart aches seeing tears in your eyes, knowing he’s intentionally kept you frustrated and unsatisfied. But, he can’t deny the pride shining in his ruby red eyes when you keep holding out and do your best to obey his commands. 
“You did so well tonight, doll,” he praises you in a soft, husky voice. “I know you’re frustrated and unfulfilled, and it’s going to be like this for two more days, but you’re being so good… I’m so proud of you.” 
Sylus unbuckles the cuffs and brings you to bed, holding you close and caressing your body, trying to ease you into sleep. But, you can still feel the need humming in your veins, the desire burning within you; the need for a release he’s been denying you the entire night. 
He knows you won’t be able to fall asleep like this, but he also knows he needs to stick to his word and let you suffer for another day. 
The next morning, your husband takes you again, his hands and mouth working over every inch of your body, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back when you’re about to spill over; crimson eyes dancing with glee at your choked moans and teary hiccups. 
He loves how you cry out in frustration, writhing naked on the bed with your sweet little body unfulfilled. How you grab his shoulders, trying to tug him back into the circle of your embrace, but he evades you easily, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“Sylus!” 
Your whine doesn’t phase him. Sylus’s eyes darken with his own desire as he presses you back into the mattress, aching to take you but at the same time, he still wants to see you suffer more. 
“Doll, you need to wait, remember? Two days. That’s your punishment.”
You groan and turn your body away, hiding your face in the plush pillows while screaming, “It’s not fair!” 
Sylus exhales a chuckle at your petulant whining, the way you’re hiding your face in the pillow and complaining. It makes his heart swell with glee and pride, seeing you like this, so desperate and needy, but knowing he’s the one in total control. 
“That’s the whole point of a punishment, doll. It’s not supposed to be fair. I told you, you have to wait until the two days are up before you can come.”
You should’ve known his words would herald a full day of torment, but you were too slow and soft hearted, desperately hoping he would be swayed by the tears in your eyes and finally give in to your need to release.
But, Sylus did no such thing. 
He mercilessly edges you throughout the day, never giving you any respite. 
He loves the way you’re getting more desperate as the day goes on, his hands and mouth bringing you close to release again and again but never giving you what you need. Your husband loves seeing you on the edge like this, fighting against your own body’s needs, fighting the urge to give in and just let go. 
His lips leave the juncture of your thighs, the TV humming in the background while the twins are busy in the playpen, cooing and rolling around. 
Normally, you would never let your husband have his way with the babies so close in the vicinity, but your mind isn’t where it is today, desperately in need for him to take you over the edge and let you come.
“You’re doing so good, taking it and holding back,” your husband praises, rising to his feet and adjusting your skirt, hiding your bare and neglected pussy from his view, making you decent once again before you have to feed the twins. “You don’t need to come, doll. Coming is only for good girls and you’ve been bad to the core.” 
Your brain feels like it’s melting, no thoughts but the feeling of his mouth on you, his fingers sinking deeply into the heat of your cunt, thrusting in and out to bring you to that sweet edge where he doesn’t allow you to spill. 
It’s a borderline addiction, the pain and pleasure rolling into one that you don’t know what you want anymore. 
Sylus edges you wherever he wants: in the living room after the twins have been put to sleep, in the kitchen against the counters, in the bathroom, in his office. 
He grins, seeing how exhausted you’re getting, how you’re struggling to keep up with his constant teasing and edging. His punishment is even worse now that he’s home with you, Onychinus duties relegated to Luke and Kieran who overlook the day-to-day operations while the organization isn’t in crisis mode. 
Sylus knows it’s torture for you, but he also knows it’s what you need.
“You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, doll. One more day. Just hold out a little longer.” 
Night comes by, and after the twins are fed and put to bed, Sylus immediately pounces on the chance to tie you up to the bed, edging you over and over until you cry out for him to stop past the lacy thong he’s stuffed in your mouth, crying out from the oversensitivity. 
Sylus grins, seeing how sensitive you’ve become and how you’re begging him to stop but at the same time, still hold on and obey his commands.
“Oh, doll… you’re being so good, so strong. I’m so proud of you for holding on this long.” 
Twisting in your bonds, you writhe, whimpering through the makeshift gag in your mouth.
“Yesh, Shir… one mwore day…”
He traces your cheek with the tips of his fingers, smiling softly, loving how you’re fighting off your body’s baser needs, determined to obey his every command.
The next day is the worst for you. You’re sore all over, and completely sensitive to his touches. Due to the constant arousal thumping in your veins, you barely had a decent night’s sleep. 
Sylus notices how tired you are, how exhausted and worn down you’ve become from the constant edging he’s been doing to you. He was the one who suggested asking Sara to babysit the twins for a day because you’re too tired to take care of them yourself. 
You’re dozing off on the sofa, blankets tangling around your legs when he sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.
Even in a doze, you instinctively wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and Sylus’s heart squeezes. His sweet, delicate, naughty little doll.
“You’ve done so well, my love,” Sylus whispers, tracing his fingers over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his gentle touch. “It’s finally time for your reward.”
“Wait?” You perk up in disbelief, fully awake now. “Really?” 
“Mhm. Yes.” Sylus grins at the way your eyes light up at the idea of finally getting to come after being teased for so long.
“You’ve been so obedient and good, I think you deserve to shatter around my cock, now.” 
Giggling, you nod. “I’m ready, Sir.”
He laughs at your excitement, loving how eager and desperate you are to finally get what you need. 
“Mhm… doll, lie back and relax… let me take care of you…”
Sylus gets your skirt and blouse off your body, his ruby eyes hungrily devouring the expanse of your skin. You’re so beautiful to him like this—spread out on the couch, your hair fanning across the pillows, body supple and ready for the taking. 
He removes his clothes as well, slowly easing his touch up and down your body, though it's useless to do because you’re already so keyed up and ready for him. 
Your eyes roll back into your skull when he finally sinks his thick cock inside of you, a ring of cream already forming at the base of his girthy length as he fucks you hard and fast, urging you to rub your clit and play with your nipples as your release builds to a crashing crescendo. 
That’s it, good girl, good girl, he coaxes. Come for me… come for me, doll… make me proud and come together with me…
Sylus makes you come more times than you can count, and afterwards, he holds you in his arms, his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin as you pass out cold, fast asleep.
A pang of pride lights up in his chest, seeing how spent you are, completely satisfied and pleasured but also completely worn out from the experience. 
He caresses your hair, gently pulling you closer to him, caressing the slight bump of your stomach where his son is growing inside of you.
Sylus kisses the top of your head, tightening his grip around you as he sighs, enjoying this moment of unfettered peace and love surrounding the two of you. He might not be the best at vocalizing his emotions, but with your defenses completely down and your body resting after such a strenuous experience you willingly went through out of your love for him, Sylus thinks you deserve a bit more praise and credit for putting up with his demands.
“Rest well, doll,” he whispers into your hair, stroking your belly. “No words can encompass how much I love you and want to protect you with my life, my precious wife. I’ll be here when you wake up… sleep tight.” 
As the day goes on, all is right and well in the Qin household.
— reblogs with comments and feedback are so appreciated <33 thank you for your constant support and love on my fics !!
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©️lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost and claim as your own.
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drunk-person · 5 months ago
Text
Training Yard
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
Summary: One of Y/n's most common habits is admiring her husband's training every day. On a particularly hot day, the jealousy of the other ladies makes her achieve everything she has been dreaming of for a long time..
WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, swords being used inappropriately, jealousy sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.
Word cont: 2.800 k
Author's note: Okay, I think those gifs and images with a special focus on Aemond's sword changed the chemistry of my brain, and from that change this one short was born. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.
When Y/n was promised to Aemond and traveled with her family to Kings landing to meet him the first time she saw him was at the training camp. He was brandishing a sword and fighting like a demon. The look of concentration on his face, the way he moved fluidly, the sweat that dripped down his forehead, all of it caught Y/n's attention and made her thighs press together in a way she hadn't understood at the time.
Even in her homeland when the marriage was announced, everyone told her that Prince Aemond was a great warrior, but nothing had prepared her for that. It didn't take long for both of them to get married and gradually build their own daily routine. Y/n, just as her husband woke up very early, and they both had breakfast together, soon after Aemond left for the training yard. And Y/n couldn't even say when it became such a recurring habit to watch her husband training every morning. But she could definitely say that it was one of her favorite parts of the day.
Y/n now knew what that pressure between her thighs meant when she saw her husband in the training yard. She knew even better. And even after almost twelve moons of marriage, she still felt the same feeling whenever she saw him. Today in particular the day was particularly hot, as it was the middle of summer, and even though she was wearing a lighter dress Y/n could still feel the sweat running down between her breasts and down her back as she fanned herself with a fan.
She admired her husband's every move downstairs as he fought with Sir Criston, and she couldn't help but bite her lip gently as she watched him grip the hilt of his sword tightly. Y/n could see that Aemond was sweating wearing all those layers of clothes, his silver hair was damp with sweat, and it was to her great surprise that he had an attitude that she would never have expected. He took off his doublet and opened the thin shirt he was wearing underneath, she sighed when he saw the scene, but the contentment soon passed when she noticed that the other ladies of the court were looking at her husband like hungry dogs would look at a piece of meat.
Y/n gritted her teeth angrily as she held tightly to the wooden support of the balcony, as she thought about how lovely it would be to be able to throw one of them from above. And with her eyes sparkling, she barely waited for the fight to end before going down to the courtyard and approaching where Aemond was.
As soon as Aemond disarmed Sir Cole, causing his sword to be thrown a long distance, and placed his own sword against the older man's throat, the audience applauded happily. But no Y/n, she was smarter than doing something so trivial. And with that in mind she pretended to drop the green fan with gold embroidery that she used to fan herself and relieve the heat.
Aemond immediately bent down, picking up the fan from the floor and handing it into her hands, touching her skin in public even if quickly as he placed the fan back between Y/n's hands.
— Thank you very much husband. — She spoke softly, looking at him from beneath her long eyelashes, already opening the fan again, while she gently bit her lip.
—You're welcome wife. — He replied, looking lightly at the drops of sweat that fell down his wife's neckline, when she intelligently guided his gaze there using the fan. —I see that you are also feeling very hot.
—Well, I told you not to go out in such heavy clothes today, if you had listened to me maybe you wouldn't be walking around practically naked in public. — She spoke only for Aemond to hear, curving his eyebrows and wrinkling his nose, while he looked at her with that ironic smile that made her want to jump on him, to kill him or other things.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, my prince, the weather is very hot. — And she turned around, closing the fan and walking away without even looking back, already knowing that it wouldn't be long before he would follow her to the bedroom. Aemond always got a little wild after training, with her teasing him he knew he would want her.
As she passed the court ladies, Y/n made a point of smiling arrogantly before heading inside the fortress. Aemond was her husband, only hers and no one else's. And still with her body tense with jealousy and desire, she entered the dark corridor to get to her own rooms faster. But before she could walk two meters she felt someone covering her mouth with their hand while pulling her firmly around the waist. Y/n screamed muffledly as she struggled, until the soft voice came in her ear.
—Easy, my princess.
Hearing Aemond's voice her whole body instantly relaxed, even as he dragged her into an even darker corner and pinned her firmly against the wall of a cramped alcove.
—What did you think you were doing? — He spoke with an irritated voice against her hair while holding her. — Looking at me like that in public, practice begging me to fuck you.
—Well, maybe I wanted to show some unsuspecting people that Prince Aemond has already been married for almost a year before they jump on you! —Y/n practically growled the words in annoyance, and it became even worse when she felt Aemond laughing against her neck.
—So that's what this is about? —He asked in a mocking voice. — Jealousy.
—I'm not jealous. — She replied grumpily, still pressed against the wall.
—Oh no, you are burning with. — He smiled at the realization.
—You know that my only eye is only for you, wife. — He said kissing her neck from behind. — Just for you.
—You think I don't see the way you look every morning when you watch me train. — He whispered, nibbling on her neck. — That I don't watch the way you bite your lip every time I grip the sword hilt. — He bit her earlobe as he said that while pressing himself against her clothed ass, making her gasp.
And without warning he pulled the strings of her dress violently while Y/n's eyes widened in shock as they were almost in the middle of a hallway. The flowing dress fell at her feet and Y/n felt herself blushing for being practically naked in that place.
—Aemond, what if someone shows up? —She spoke fearfully.
—Should you have thought about that before. —He said, pulling her small clothes down and stripping her completely naked while he trailed wet kisses down her back. Suddenly she felt Aemond turn her around and push her in the other direction, lifting her off the floor and sitting her on a small sideboard, knocking over a vase that was previously on top.
—Aemond! —She reprimanded him, but was interrupted when he pressed his lips to hers while holding her thighs, caressing them and keeping them open. He trailed kisses from her lips to her neck, and from her neck to her soft breasts where he feasted on licking and sucking like he knew Y/n liked. And little by little, the caresses that were on her thighs moved up towards her throbbing core, which panted in anticipation every time Aemond's fingers got closer to where she needed him most.
—Husband… —She whimpered when he rubbed two fingers against her wetness.
—So wet for me. — He said, looking down at her, still paying attention to her breasts.
—I need you inside me. — She begged with a needy voice while Aemond slowly massaged her pearl, and she saw the gleam of malice in his eyes as he shook his head.
—No, you don't deserve to get what you want. —Aemond gently pinched her pearl, making her moan and lightly bite her own hand to muffle the noise. — You were such a negligent wife, leaving in the middle of my training, making me have to drop everything and come to you.
—No, you deserve something else. — He said, pulling her and making her almost scream in surprise as he turned her around and leaned over the small sideboard.
Y/n listened as Aemond unbuckled his belt and raised her eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he would do. But the realization came soon after when she felt something cold against her hot and wet intimacy, panting immediately afterwards.
—I noticed some time ago the way you always look at my sword when you think I'm not looking. — Aemond said while lightly brushing the handle of the sheathed sword against Y/n's intimacy, who pressed her eyes firmly while biting her lips in disbelief that this was really happening.
And without warning he penetrated the first part of the handle into her wet pussy, making her squirm with pleasure and bite her own arm to keep from moaning when she felt the cold metal against her hot skin. Aemond watched ecstatically as the rounded part of the handle was swallowed whole while Y/n moaned and panted with pleasure, he waited a few moments before pushing the rest in and no longer moving it letting her adapt to the size, while he smiled at the sight of his wife squirm, leaking more and more against the handle of the sword.
—Husband… —She begged, looking back with her face wet with tears and her lips red from biting them so much. — Husband, please. —Aemond smiled maliciously, but did not move the sword even an inch. —Aemond, I'm begging you. — She cried rubbing herself against the hilt of the sword.
—Look at you, my dear wife. —He said caressing her moist lips with his finger. —Begging like a real whore.
Y/n immediately nodded, leaning towards him for a kiss, which Aemond didn't have the courage to refuse. And in the middle of the wet and breathless kiss he moved the handle of the sword, thrusting firmly against Y/n's pussy, making her almost scream against his lips while digging her nails into her husband's neck. Aemond smiled against her lips and little by little he picked up speed, in a constant back and forth that made Y/n shiver with pleasure and lose control about one's own body.
She felt like she was going to collapse at any moment, the feeling of the metal filling her making her feel things she had never imagined before. The wet, filthy sound filling the air and the idea of ​​anyone walking by and seeing Aemond doing this to her made her even wetter if that was possible. Heat flooded her entire body and the smell of sweat filled the small alcove at that moment. Y/n did her best to remain silent, but it was almost impossible not to moan her husband's name and beg him to give her more, feeling on the verge of climax.
—Maybe you want them all to listen. — Aemond spoke in a hoarse and low voice close to her ear while sucking her earlobe. —Let them all hear you moan like a little whore while I fuck you with the hilt of my sword.
Y/n couldn't take it anymore, it was like everything inside her broke at once and she came against the hilt of her husband's sword shaking and whimpering as she squirmed and tried to hold on to the small sideboard. Her legs were shaking like jelly and she could barely stand, the feeling of her husband pulling the sword hilt out of her almost made her scream from overstimulation.
Aemond smiled with satisfaction as he pulled the hilt of the sword from inside Y/n, seeing it covered in the white fluids and liquids that came from his wife's pleasure, he never failed to be impressed by the fact that she became even more beautiful destroyed with pleasure. And still smiling, admiring the mess between her legs, he untied the drawstrings of his pants and pulled his own dick out, stroking it a few times and then rubbing it against her moist folds.
Y/n thought she was going to faint from the feeling of being filled again, but now completely. She was so sensitive after her first orgasm that it was as if Aemond was everywhere, and she couldn't help but grind against him for more.
—Always so good and eager for me.— Aemond praised her as he fucked her harder and harder and caressed her hips and breasts. —Such a good and wet cunt.
—You don't need to be jealous, wife, the only one I live for is you, no one else. — He said, sucking her neck and leaving a kiss there while Y/n whimpered and agreed, looking for his lips anxiously.
The two kissed eagerly and Aemond gained even more strength in his thrusts, and when Y/n was on the verge of orgasm again, footsteps sounded in the hallway and Aemond stopped his movements while covering her mouth, signaling for his wife to stay quiet.
Aemond then took advantage of the pause by withdrawing from inside her and turning her to face him and when the steps were far enough away he kissed her again hungrily, and already penetrating her once again with force. Y/n in turn brought her hands to his face, pulling him more and more towards her, wanting to feel every little part of him against her, and she barely noticed when the eye patch fell to the floor, only noticing when they both separated from the kiss. and the shine of the sapphire was present in the dark alcove, making her sigh with contentment at the sight.
—Husband, I want you so much. — She sighed, pulling him into another kiss, feeling closer and closer to the edge with each thrust from Aemond, and feeling him accelerate, she came against his cock, crying and moaning while putting her head in the gap between his neck and shoulder.
—I love you husband, I love you so much. —She whimpered, leaving kisses on his neck, and hearing his wife say those words while feeling her pussy milking him, Aemond came deeply inside her, shuddering and calling his wife's name with his face contorted with pleasure.
Y/n made a point of lifting her head to see the scene before her, in her opinion there was nothing as beautiful in that world as Aemond's face, the only thing that could compare was Aemond's face after the climax.
She caressed his face gently while she felt him massaging her waist with his fingertips still inside her, both still panting, a few moments later Aemond came out of her and lovingly helped her get dressed.
—I'm going to retire to our quarters, husband. —Y/n said visibly tired, and at the same moment Aemond's look changed and he shook his head.
—Oh no you won't.—He said holding her face between his hands firmly looking her in the eyes while speaking in a slightly hoarse voice. — Now you're going to go back there, sit like the obedient and devoted wife you are with my seed running down your legs and watch the rest of the training, knowing that my sword is full of your cunt juice.
—But husband... — She said with wide eyes.
—As I've told you a few times, wife, we must think about the consequences before acting. —He said, replacing his eye patch and fixing his own clothes with a smile.
—If you're lucky, there will only be you up there at that time.
He then fastened the belt with the sword back around his waist and Y/n could see the hilt still glistening with her fluids, and felt her face burn with embarrassment.
—I will never need a tournament favor again as long as I carry this sword. —Aemond said mockingly, looking at her and Y/n rolled her eyes angrily, since her husband didn't even participate in tournaments.
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