#gives his beautiful little killer a kiss while there's still blood on his own mouth
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bandgie · 2 years ago
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Predator & Prey
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
a/n: 6th and FINAL chapter omg
warnings: somno, fire, biting, blood, dark thoughts from Nyryx, one degrading word said (whore), uhh I think that's it
6.8k words gyyaattttt
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Maybe it was your nerves, but you wake up just as the birds start chirping. You could fell Nyryx solid beneath you, his chest softly heaving as he slept. You laid on top of him, your own personal bed. You felt bad that he slept on the cold ground, but his calm, neutral expression showed that he didn't care much. His wings were wrapped around you, keeping the heat in. You smiled.
You gently picked your head up, looking at the early morning sky. There was faint pinkish color against the blueish heavens. It had been so long since you woke up so early. You rarely admire the beauty in the waking sun, but against the snowflakes and cold, white powder makes you cherish the sight.
Though you could easily fall back to sleep, especially with Nyryx under you, you don't. It's your first time being awake before Nyryx. When you traveled in the woods, he would be the one to wake you. It's a weird gift you've been granted on your last morning with him, and you're going to take advantage of it.
You looked back at him, loving how soft his features looked. Nyryx usually had a frown, or contemplating look, but there are no traces of hard lines. Instead his eyebrows are relaxed, mouth slightly open, and eyes closed with long lashes to compliment him. He sleeps peacefully, as though neither of you had sent a village ablaze only hours ago.
Your fingers reach up to trace his details. His skin was a little rough in your fingertips, but you still smiled as you felt him. Nyryx didn't stir in his sleep when you played his with lips, but his nose did twitch. You help back a laugh at the cute movement, instead trailing your hand to his cheeks. You decided to travel a little more down and place your hand on the side of his neck.
You rubbed your hand up and down, and without meaning to, your hips followed the movement. You really didn't mean to touch him with any sexual intent, but you just adore the way he feels under you; How still and compliant his is, another gift you've been given this morning.
You slowly adjust so your knees are on the cold ice below you, straddling him. You shiver when you make contact with the ground, the snow almost burning on your skin. Ignoring it, you shuffle so that you scoot down just barely, face lined with his chest. His wings move unconsciously, allowing you more movement. You kiss his chest in gratitude.
Nyryx doesn't move while you trail your kisses downward, hands holding his sides for balance. You would think such a killer would be on high alert even when asleep. Instead it's you that moves in a predatory way, stalking and slyly moving down his body.
Is this how he feels? You wonder as you take advantage of his unconscious state. Nyryx is the one who's supposed to take you like this, asleep and unaware. You're filled with excitement as you think of your reversal of roles. He must feel a power trip as he hovers over his prey, similar how he is to you right now.
When you reach his trousers, you stop. You're shaking, most likely from the cold, but also from the adrenaline in your veins. If he wakes, you don't know how he'll react. Would he be upset? Mad that you succumbed to your horny feelings? That you bested him in a game he plays most well? Or would he be happy? Would he like that surprise you woke him up with?
After all, this is like breakfast in bed for him.
Coming to your conclusion, you carefully free him of his pants. Pulling down just enough for his semi-hard dick to come out. It's less intimidating seeing him softer than usual. You have a lot more confidence this time when you take the tip of him into your mouth. He's salty, it makes your mouth water on instinct to dilute the taste. After what seems like forever, he moved. Legs opening a little wider to give you more access.
You stick your tongue out in the underside of his dick, tongue messily licking while you sucked on him. It didn't take much effort for Nyryx to grow exponentially, hardening in your mouth with a soft groan. You pull away and stroke him a few times, ignoring how cold your body is getting from being away from him.
You fear for a moment if the wetness between your legs can freeze, but you'll make sure to fix that before you have the chance to find out. Though the outside of your body is burning cold, your insides are burning hot. You swear your arousal alone could warm your entire body, but you'd rather have some of Nyryx's help.
You engulf him in your mouth again, bobbing your head to get some action going. Your hands aren't gentle anymore, they grip at his waist almost possessively. Your rough touch must wake him up at some point, but instead he continues to lie there. His body jolting when you suck his tip harshly, how you move your tongue down to lick his balls, the way your throat closes around him when you gag.
You can feel the spit dribbling down your chin, the saliva that coats your hand when your stroke when you can't fit in your mouth. You can't help but move your whole body when you take him, hips grinding on nothing but cold air. You pop him our of your mouth and you swear you hear him whine when you do.
You shiver as you sit up, discarding your pants and underwear when you do. Before you take your place back on his lap, you place your clothes on a rock near the almost dead fire. You don't want to be sticky having to put cold, wet underwear back on.
Once you finish, you scramble to sit on his lap. The morning cold is almost unbearable, but you're glad there's no wind at least. You take a good look at Nyryx's sleeping face, how it's not contort in what seems like impatience. You grab his hardness again, this time lining it up with you pussy.
You know it would be painful to take him in one sit. Nyryx always made sure to get your cunt doodling before you took him, but now that's all up for you do to yourself. So, despite the want and need you ache for, you grind on his cock. It's weird at first, how his hands are limp besides him, wings fluttering besides you as you hump his dick. Still, you find some disgusting satisfaction with you in control, with you on top.
Maybe you aren't as much of prey Nyryx thinks you are.
You hear the slickness of your pussy as you grind on him, looking down to the strings of essence that connects your bodies. You moan at the sight, giving you motivation to keep using him. After all, you are supposed to be teaching him self control. Who knows? Maybe this is the perfect way for him to get his meal.
You rub your clit on his tip, gasping at the feeling. You could feel every vein and even the crown of his head as you grind on him. You bite your lower lip to keep from moaning loudly, but it's more difficult that you originally thought. You're panting, legs starting to get sore from rutting against him. Still, the heat in your stomach encourages you further.
Your legs tremble as you approach your release, wet sounds emulating from beneath you. You find the strength to look at him, unbelievable seeing his eyes still closed. He has to be faking it at this point. He can't still be sleeping with your wetness on his thighs, his dick. How aggressively you're humping and even smacking your pussy on him.
Your body tenses, your orgasm threatening to spill out of you just before you decide to sit up, pulling away from his dick. You shake and tremble from your self edging, almost curing yourself for not finishing. It doesn't matter though, you would much rather cum with him inside you.
You wobbly adjust so you're actually hovering over him, his tip already leaking from the edging. Nyryx's fists ball up and and relax, body trembling as he fights to keep from thrusting into you in his sleep. Though you're now 100% sure he's not really sleeping. You're quick to catch him briefly open his eyes before he shuts them again. You laugh.
"Nyrryyyxx..." you teasingly sing his voice softly. He pretends not to hear you though, instead keeping his eyes closed and lifting his hips to let you know that you should get back to business. It only makes you laugh more at his eagerness. You reach down and grab the base of his dick, shoving his tip in.
You purposely do it slow, feeling every crevasse and vessel his dick as to offer. You love his irritated face, how he looks at you between his lashes. Though you're completely aware of his consciousness, he maintains his sleep like state. Staying (kind of) still and moaning softly as you push him halfway through inside you.
"I know you're awake, you don't have to pretend," you tell him. Despite being this close to his body, you're freezing. The sun is finally over the horizon, but it's far too early in the day for it to give any actual warmth. "I'm cold," you comment to him. You think it will make him break. Have him wrap his arms or wings around you to shield you.
Instead, he smiles, fangs poking out, "Sit on my cock properly and I'll reward you." You're stunned by his morning voice, how deep and gravely is sounds. Perhaps it's also because you're teasing him with the one thing that gives him life, but that's just a theory.
You push him deeper as you exhale, eyes rolling back at the painful stretch. You can feel yourself fully sit on him, ass to his thigh before he finally lift his wings up. Nyryx quickly wraps then around you, forcing you down on his chest for more heat. You moan at his warmth, inside and outside of you. He lets you adjust to the new position before he thrusts upwards gently.
You whimper, burying your head into his neck from the deep angle. In this position, you're also able to rub your clit on his pelvis. Nyryx also uses his hands to snake around your waist, using is was leverage to fuck up into you.
You bite down in his neck, desperate to not make any noise, but Nyryx is displeased with this. "Louder prey, I wish for the birds to sing your moans." His voice holds authority, and you obey. You had been forced to keep quiet with Nyryx in the spare room, but now there is no one to stop that. Only the trees and morning animals will keep your secret.
You let yourself moan with no restraint when he resumes. Nyryx is loud with his grunt, but they're drowned by the slapping of his skin on yours. All you can do is take it as you entire body is jolted by his movements. Drool pours from your lips when you feel him kiss your cervix, so so deep inside you.
Nyryx doesn't hold back in any aspect. You think he was treating you gently compared to now. He doesn't let the snow under him affect his fucking, not the early morning you woke him up at, not your loud moaning in his ear, nothing. Nyryx is still careful to not accidentally stab you with his talons, they're dangerously close to your stomach and trapped under his wings.
He could easily nick you, tear your pretty flesh open and watch you paint the snow red. Hurting you never gives him pleasure, he hates your sorrowful cries from his doings. It doesn't stop him from taking pleasure in the danger though. Your life is in his hands, literally. He could easily take everything from you. Nyryx could keep you from your world, your family. He could have you every second of the day just by threatening you with his power. He could consume your lust, fear, hatred, every emotion your body has to offer.
Nyryx hates how his thoughts turn wicked, how easy it is to make his delusions a reality. Your pleasureful moans though, pull him out. Goosebumps cross his skin as you cry, waking up every animals that still slumbers. He can feel you twitching, gushing out more lubrication when he reaches down to grasp your ass. He shoves you even harder on his cock. you swear you see stars from the deep penetration.
You're supposed to be teaching him control, but instead he's using you like a cocksleeve. You don't think he noticed that he was also drooling, his eyes turning scary wild as he keep his eyes past you, looking at your bouncing hips. He was mumble something, your name occasionally leaving his lips. You thought he was moaning or praising you, but he almost seemed in a trance.
You grew curious and slightly worried, but all you could was whine when he pushed you deeper on him, gushing your cream all over his cock. His dick must be painted white like the snow that surrounds you, but neither of you will ever know. Not when he keeps fucking into you and spreading your essence between you both.
Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back, the noises that leave you are inhumane. Probably even a turn off, but Nyryx takes pride in your moans. You can feel the coil in your stomach, the tingling sensation near your thighs. Nyryx and his creamy cock are quick to notice your closeness, holding you tighter against him so that you could fully feel your clit being rubbed.
You're a babbling mess, not even bothering to properly kiss Nyryx back. All there is between your lips are spit, drool, and clashing teeth. The heat in your stomach builds, almost unbearably before you come crashing down. You sob loudly, feeling your orgasm drip down out of your pussy onto his cock again. Nyryx still beneath you, letting your twitching body come down from your high.
Your cunt is clutching him so tightly, Nyryx couldn't move even if he wanted to. It's not until you go limp against him he decides to move again. It's long before he hears your protests, your whines for him to wait. "Please Nyryx," you gasp. "I-fuucckkkk-you slow down please." Nyryx is riddled with guilt, but your pleas are so beautiful. He wants to keep ignoring you just to hear them more.
Against his primal desires he stops, almost cursing himself. "Just a little longer, prey," he whispers in your ear. "Let me have you." You moan at his words, your sensitive pussy aching for you to listen to him despite the one being abused. You bite your lower lip, eyes meeting his.
Nyryx looks so desperate, so fucked out. You forget that he also goes insane when you fuck, it's unfair for you to use him like you did earlier while not letting him get the same. You nod, eyes dropping to his lips you want to taste so bad. "Okay, but kiss me please," you agree.
Nyryx accepts your terms and condition immediately, tongue slipping in the same time his dick pounds into you. You cry into his mouth, moans unconfined. You can feel how the same pussy that was crying for him ram into it also cry for him to take it out. You don't know how you can take it, the feeling of his cock was too much to bear. Maybe you can't in a way, Maybe it's why you can't help the salty tears you taste on your own lips, the way your hips try to escape his deathly grip.
It doesn't take long for him to resume his violent thrusts, his tip touching the deepest parts of you. Nyryx doesn't stop kissing you, even opting to lick your tears and consume you in anyway he can. He snarls against your lips, a clear indiction of how close he's getting. He's sloppy now, uncaring of how hard he bounces you on him to meet his thrusts. You can taste the sweat on his skin, how it drips and mangles with your kiss, if you can call it that.
Your body trembles from overstimulation. You can feel how your stickiness has completely coated your lower body parts, including his. "Nyryx come, please please I need it," you beg. You do want to feel him come inside, but you also want it to end. You don't want to spray your essence all over the place again. You can't stand the thought.
"Shit, please. Baby I need it so bad, don't stop don't stop," you let a pet name slip you. You're not even sure if he understands the term of endearment, but Nyryx seems to enjoy your dirty talk regardless. "Is that so?" He taunts. "Want my seed deep inside. You are a lucky whore, I don't give it to just anyone."
Nyryx uses you like a rag doll, your body a mere vessel for him to use as he cums. His moan in so animalistic, the bids near by take flight. His warm ropes find their way deep inside you, it fills you to the brim. You moan with him, matching his heavy breathing. Your chests rise and fall together, your bodies in harmony.
Riding out his orgasm, Nyryx gives you a few more thrusts. They're much softer this time, almost lovingly in how he caresses your body. Rather than pulling out, Nyryx let's his cock stay inside you to soften. You're more than happy to comply, feeling your walls envelope him in a wet, warm blanket for him to snuggle in.
Though you both had woken up not too long ago, you were drained. The previous night was cruel, both in sleep and wakefulness. You yawned against Nyryx chest, ignoring the voice that screamed at you to stay awake. To spend every waking moment with Nyryx before night fall came. Your body had different plans though, his seemed to as well. He moved his hand from your ass to tilt your head up, looking at your sleepy eyes.
He placed a tender kiss on your lips, pulling away before either of you could deepen it further. "Rest now prey, you have a journey ahead of you."
-
The remaining day is spent with Nyryx inside you the moment you woke up again. It didn't matter the position, the location, or the weather. He loved being in your mouth, he learned. The feeling of you gagging around him, your dull nails digging into his thighs when he pushed too far 'accidentally.' The best part, however, was when you cried. The silent tears mixing with your spit and his arousal in your mouth. Despite the blissful, almost eager look in your face you still wept.
Not that he cared of course, Nyryx would pull you up to him by your neck. He would kiss you harshly, moaning into your mouth from all the liquids mixed together. He didn't even have to cum from you sucking him off of fucking you, he could lick your sobs away and finish in his trousers.
Though you also loved choking around his cock, you preferred riding him. Sure it was a lot more work (and he would do most of the thrusting anyway), but it was a great way to act like you were in control. The feeling of sinking all the way down on it, being able to maneuver your body so that you could hit all the right parts, the brutal grip on your ass, it was euphoric.
Not to mention how he realized his tail could wrap around your body, giving your clit harsh or soft rubs while his hands stayed on your hips. It was a great way to not only keep balance, but multitask on pleasing you in every way possible. You both loved the view as well. How Nyryx's face would twist in pleasure, his sharp teeth being revealed behind his lips, his dark eyes eating you up in the most vile way.
Nyryx's eyes couldn't leave your body, not when you bounced on him like that. As though you were chasing your own pleasure, that it was the only way you could live despite him being the incubus. Not to mention your tits, how they bounced and pebbled at the cold air around you. It was a fortunate circumstance that Nyryx could produce inhuman heat, and keep his wings around your body so you would stay sick-free.
You didn't feel hungry, completely satisfied with the amount of cum Nyryx poured into your belly. Maybe it was because you just simply didn't have an appetite, you didn't want to waste your time with Nyryx by eating. That didn't seem important to you, not when the demonic being was on top, hips driving into you roughly. You could feel the cold snow on your back, but it was actually soothing on your hot skin.
You were gasping for air, moans spilling out of your mouth when he grabbed your hips to wrap around his waist. With your ass off the ground, it gave Nyryx a better angle to drive into you, dick practically pushing through your cervix. He was going to bruise you for sure, but Nyryx was determined to leave you full of marks. I want you to remember these, he told you. His hips slowed for a second, fingers trailing your purpling skin. Even when you will have left me, these will stay.
Nyryx knows he shouldn't, he knows he should send you back without any suspicion of where you've been. The aftermath of two worlds colliding would be far worse than the humans hunting him, far worse than anything both of your worlds have endured. Still, he can't help himself. Not when you seem more than willing to let him claim you, inside and out.
Nyryx's dipped one of his hands down to your pussy, fingers playing and rubbing on your sopping folds. You arched your back even more, clamping down on his dick. You cried out at this over stimulation, body shaking from the painful gratification he gave you. Nyryx groaned at your tightness, his torso leaning down to place hot kisses on your face. He didn't care if he got your mouth multiple times, only that he got his lips on your flesh.
It was disgusting really, the horrifying way you were crying. Like you were being murdered, like the incubus above you was taking advantage of you as he's supposed to. It didn't help that your hips instinctively tried to get away from him, jolting and pulling away from his own. You gave thanks for the snow and trees drowning out your sound, eating the way you sobbed and the way Nyryx ate you.
When Nyryx came, it was anything but devilish. He looked angelic, his loud moans in your ear, his dominating grip, the convulsing of his body. You took him all, your pussy drinking his release happily. You quivered beneath him, whispering his name like a chant. Nyryx kissed your neck sloppily, ignoring the way you cried when he clamped his teeth harshly on your sensitive skin.
You were tired, so tried that you didn't notice Nyryx laying you down down on the snow. You couldn't feel the burning cold, but you could see Nyryx rushing to grab clothes, your clothes. Wordlessly, he began dressing you. Each leg, one by one through the warm pants. Then to your arm, carefully placing them into the long sleeves before pulling it down your stomach. He reach for your shoes, struggling on the laces before he gave up.
By the time he was done, you realized why he was dressing you. The sun had began going down. The moon was beginning to shine, not to its fullest, but a reminder of the power it was grant Nyryx. A part of you felt like you wasted the day, fucking into oblivion. You should have spoken with him instead, telling him how much you'll miss him, his world, what could have been.
Yet, when Nyryc picked you up, carrying you in the way he liked most, you realized you did communicate to him, and he to you. How his body moved against yours, how you met his thrusts restlessly, the way you kissed, the feeling of not being close enough despite him being in the deepest parts of you. Maybe you didn't talk through words, but you've always been told that the sword is mightier than the pen.
In this case, the sword was very mighty.
You let him walk through the woods, going deeper than what you expected. The trees once beautiful in white became eerily close, as if they were whispering when you walked by. They became tangled within each other, not even the birds dared to rest of their branches. "Where are we going?" you didn't bother hiding the fear in your voice as you asked.
Nyryx kissed your forehead soothingly, taking notice of the quiver in your voice and the increase in your heat beat. "We should be out of sight, no where near humans. If they see what I can conjure, there will be no stopping in the hunt for me. For the others of my kind," Nyryx speaks slowly, as if he's carefully you understand that he doesn't intend on scaring you. It's for both of your safety.
You nod, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Nyryx walked for a long time, filing the silence with questions you didn't expect him to ask. He ranged from asking about your family, if you also worked at a bar back at your world, what Easter was and why boiled eggs was so important. Despite being with Nyryx for over 2 weeks, it was one of the first (and last) times he asked you about your personal life.
It was cute of him, being curious about your life. You answered him happily, occasionally complaining about your troubles that he couldn't help but laugh at. Nyryz wasn't necessarily the talkative type, opting to listen and only really talk when it was naughty. This however, made you recognize that he was nervous. He was just as anxious as you. Nyryx didn't want you to leave, didn't want to say goodbye and never see him again.
Despite being satanically bred, he had obvious human emotions.
The stars were bright in the sky, and you recalled the night in the bathtub, how bright they shone there too. When Nyryx found a spot he deemed worthy, he set you down gently. You sat on a near by rock, dusting off the snow. Just a few feet in front of you, stood two trees. Their roots wrapped around each other as did their branches. The only opening was between their trunks, like a passage way. You knew that on the other side was more snow and more trees, you could see it under the starry sky.
Still, you felt the chill on your spine, the tremble of your legs. It was ghostly, almost, the way the trees ominously intertwined with each other. You looked away, rubbing your neck to feel some type of warmth and settle your uneasiness.
"Is this the portal?" You asked as you kept your eyes down at the snow. Nyryx was clearing the fallen sticks and branches from the ground, seemingly unaffected by the sinister atmosphere. "Yes, it's quite the eye catcher, no?" He smiled. Nyryx could taste your fear, and it was tempting to play into, but he held back. He wouldn't want you leaving pissed off at him.
Instead, Nyryx busied himself with work. He stomped on the uneven snow, attempting to make a steady runway for you to walk on. He gathered his found sticks into 3 piles, small enough to fit into his large hands. You picked your head up, curious at what he was doing. Nyryx paid no attention to your stare, instead taking deep breaths to hone into his energy.
He stood at a distance from his piles, his long fingers creating a shape you couldn't quite see from your place. The silence was deafening, you could practically hear the blood rushing in you veins. "You said there is no magic in your world?" Nyryx voice makes you jump. "Y-Yeah," you compose yourself quickly. "Not real magic at least."
Nyryx looks in your direction, and you shiver. Every fiber in your body is screaming run despite you knowing he is the only person you're safe with. His eyes are full blown black, new red orbs staring into your eyes. His horns are protruding at a length you've never seen before, curving inward at the tip. His wings, even have seemed to grow larger, his wingspan stretching out from him. He gives you a wicked smile, fangs reaching down to his chin, "Then, I suppose it's up to me to show you real magic, prey."
With a loud inhale from his chest, Nyryx turns his head to focus on the sticks. He whispers softly, so lowly you thought it was the wind tickling your ear. Nyryx exhales, strings of fire coming from his mouth that whirlpools into the piles, bringing them to flame. You don't dare to make a noise, not even to gasp when he steps close to the fire. He breaks the formation in his hands to slit his palm with his talons, blood oozing from the wound.
He drips his blood onto the fire, and they seem to grow bigger. Each fire gets so big, that they reach beyond Nyryx's height. They wrap around each other similar to the trees that's your portal, thinning out as they grow taller before bending downwards. The flames start to form a circle around you, Nyryx, and the trees. Your hair whips in your face from the force, the heat so strong, your chest begins hurting from breathing.
"Bleed," Nyryx commands, his voice almost unrecognizable. It takes a second to register that he's talking to you. With a shaky breath you stand, walking to the wall of fire behind you. Your eyes scan for something to prick yourself with, trying to stab your fingernails into your palm to no avail. You don't notice Nyryx's silent steps toward you, you don't notice him until he grabs your wrist. You gasp when he turns you around, taking your wrist into his mouth until he bites down, hard.
You scream when his teeth dig into your flesh, blood pooling from his lips onto the snow. Tears welt up into your eyes, arm aggressively pulling away from his as you slap his chest with the other. Nyryx releases you, but you don't miss the way he cruelly smiles with your blood on his teeth.
He spits into the fire, and it roars in response. You hold your injured arms into your chest, tears spilling while you violently sob. You're scared, you're cold and hot at the same time, your wrist is burning from pain. You're experiencing fear, fear at it's rawest form once again. Nyryx hates himself for taking pleasure in it, your pitiful form practically begging him to soothe you. He can't though, not yet.
The moon brightly shines above you, and it's really the only thing you can find comfort in. Not matter the world, the moon and sun rise and set just the same. The fire travels in circles until it finds its way between the portal of trees, red sticking onto the trunks. You think for a moment that it'll catch ablaze, but instead the fire start turning into a solid. The flames continue to pour into the center of the opening, turning it a blue color.
Nyryx is still besides you, eyes rolled back to his head as he chants softly. Blood starts dripping down his nose, his ears, and you swear you could see it starts seeping through his eyes. With your good hand, you wrap your fingers around his. He grasps your hand desperately, squeezing comfortingly before the final bits of fire create the portal. Now you see why he needed so much energy, animal blood wasn't going to cut it.
It feels like an eternity before silence falls in the woods once again. The roaring fire stops abruptly, leaving you gasping and choking your weeps. Nyryx stumbles backwards, finding balance in your enveloped hands. "Nyryx! Sit down," you voice is laced with concern. He listens though, plopping down on the rock you were sitting on. He still look deadly, even more so with blood all over his face. Though, his horns had shrunk in size, his eyes no longer blood red, but still pitch black.
Nyryx doesn't let go of your hand, holding it close to his face as he leans forward. While you tell him words of comfort and ease at his level, he gathers snow. He tenderly takes your wounded wrist and places the snow on it. You hiss at the pain, but quickly find solace in the numbness. Nyryx kisses you passionately, ignoring your groans of protest from tasing your own blood.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on your forehead, breathing heavily. Before you can start talking again, he places another kiss on your lips.
"Would you believe me if I said that was my first time opening a portal?"
-
You both stood before the portal, it was hazy and blue, giving the impression of the beach you were at. You almost cried when you heard the waves crashing, hand tightening around Nyryx's. It was here, it was real. Home is on the other side, your family is on the other side. You could taste the salt on your tongue already, feel the wind in your face. Nyryx could smell it too, his nose flaring at the sour aroma of the beach.
"Holy shit," you breathed. "I can't believe it's really here." The temperature had drop significantly in the night, your breath fogging as you spoke. You couldn't even tell though, too entranced at the sight. Nyryx nodded, "It is."
You turned to face him, and he to you. Your eyes locked, and before you could get any words out, your cried. Babbling incoherent words while he laughed, bringing you in for a hug. It was awkward as first, his stiff body against your weeping one, but Nyryx quickly found solace against your body as he molded into it.
You didn't want to pull away, but Nyryx did. He held his arms on your shoulders, "You cry so easily. I think that will be what I miss most." You laughed and sobbed at the same time, throat scratching at the mix. You took shuddering breaths, your hands clapping over his, "Will you really be okay? You don't need anything?"
Nyryx hummed thoughtfully at your question, "I would rather you somehow keep you...essence here, but I suppose I'll have to go back to eating pig's blood." You rolled your eyes at him, no longer feeling sorry for the demon. When you released him from your grip to turn to the portal, he called your name.
"Yeah?"
Nyryx held is hand out, a large, black feather in it. His own feather, you don't have to ask to know. You carefully picked it up, holding it up in the moonlight to inspect it. You smiled thoughtfully, holding it tightly in your fingers, "What's this for?" Nyryx thought for a moment, as if he was careful on what he was going to say next. "So you don't forget me," he concluded.
You wiped your tears and cocked your head to the side, "What do you mean? How could I forget you? Or anything that's happened?" You started to laugh, but seeing his serious, solemn expression made you stop. You eyes him cautiously, breath stuttering in your chest. "Nyryx," you started, "I'm not gonna forget anything, right?"
"You should hurry," he ignores your question, "The moon will lose its power. The portal won't hold forever." Nyryx pushes you closer to the portal. You wriggle out of his grasp, whirling to him. "Am I really going to forget everything? This world? The bar? Meredith? You?" Your voice was breaking again, but you tried to not let any tears fall.
Nyryx tensed, and for the first time, he was noticeable scared. "Truthfully, prey...do not have high hopes that you will remember. Not many do, it's what happens when you cross the border between worlds. It's what maintains the balance between us and other worlds." Nyryx wipes the tears that betray your wishes and fall, keeping his hand at your face. His thumb rubs soothingly on your cheek.
"So," you hiccup, "You'll forget me?" Nyryx shakes his head, his lip jutting out into a pout. "No," he confirms. "If I were a human, maybe. But I am already a supernatural being, this will not affect my memory." You nod against his head, trying to find some comfort in his words, at least one of you will remember.
For the last time in your life, in either of your lives, you kiss him. It's gentle, careful. You kiss like he'll break, like he's the purest thing on Earth. He kisses you the same, shivering as he wraps his arms around your torso. You pull away slowly, not missing how his lips chase yours just for a second.
"Thank you," you whisper, not ready to see goodbye. Nyryx gives you a sad smile, his eyes darkening for a second like he's going to cry. "Of course prey. Should we be born again, I hope to spend that life with you. Without being hunted." You laugh at his joke, tears halting from spilling. "Reincarnation? You really believe in that?" You ask.
"Well," Nyryx contemplates, "If it is possible to travel between worlds, I suppose reincarnation is not inconceivable." You tilt your head side to side, also thinking about the thought of being reborn. "Yeah I guess you're right. I also, would spend that life with you, if it exists."
He smiles as you, releasing you from his grip. It takes a second to adjust to the cold again. You ignore how lonely you feel, you step closer to the portal. To the gentle breeze that calls you, begs you to come home.
You take a last look at Nyryx, "So, see you later alligator?"
He looks puzzled at your words, but nods nonetheless, "Yes, but I am not an alligator."
-
You stumble out of the cave disorientated. Your dress stickily clings to you, it's so humid. Your heels find balance on rocks, the sand. It doesn't help that the sun is beating do harshly on you. When did it get so hot?
You can hear your name being yelled in the distance, coming closer. You look up to see your younger sibling running to you, dressed in nice attire like yourself. They have an annoyed look in their face, obviously not as disorientated like you.
"There you are!" They yell, panting. "Mom and dad have been waiting forever! We still have to take pictures come o- what's in your hand?" You quirk an eyebrow, eyes following where your sibling is looking until you see your hand. Between your fingers is a black, gigantic, feather. It swallows light, as if it doesn't want to be seen.
"I dunno," you shrug, eyes still on the feather. When your sibling reaches for it, you pull away, almost protectively. "Hey!" they complain. "I want to see it!" You raise the feather well above your head, a place they can't reach at all. "It's mine, go away," you brush them off.
Your sibling continues to complain, but gives up soon. "Whatever! Hurry up!" They run to your parents without another word. You roll your eyes at them, but you can't shake how you reacted to the feather. You didn't care much about feathers, you didn't even like touching them. So why this one?
You shove the feather into a pocket, deciding not to wonder about your feelings. You made your way to your family, their hands waving you down and shouting for you to hurry up. Surprisingly, you find yourself walking faster, almost fully running to them. Your chest aches, your throat bubbles like you're going to cry. You don't know why, but you're actually happy to take pictures with them.
Despite the overwhelming happiness you feel, a shadow of longing also fills you. You reach in your pocket you squeeze the feather, oddly comforted by it. A weird part of you thinks this mere feather is a gift. From what? You have no idea. Mother Nature perhaps.
You decide that you should keep it. Maybe it's a good luck charm.
a/n: holy shit and thats it. did I check for typos? no! if you see them, no you didn't. thank you for being with my on this journey! I'm pretty rusty from writing, and I feel like I could do a lot better in the future with dialogue and shit, but still, thank you everyone!!!!! I'm thinking about writing like a second part where reader and Nyryx meet in a different life, but I'm debating on different scenarios, I might put out a poll???? anywho yeah, that's that and im totally gonna work on my dead dove I need more gore >:(
taglist: @whatamidoing89, @panda-wolf, @fatgumsbby
update: second part is here
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year ago
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Hi! if it's okay to request request TFA X Ror? (Platonic/Romantic)
Fem Reader who's like Jack 'the Ripper', from Record of Ragnarok. With Jack's personality, abilities, etc. But Reader hides her 'job', even before the bots/cons come to Earth.
-You had been doing it for years, your side job, even long before these newcomers on earth arrived, Transformers, Autobots and Decepticons, a race of robotic-like beings with the ability to transform from their bipedal forms to everyday vehicles.
-Your side job wasn’t a glamorous profession, but it’s something you loved doing. You were an artist and you had to search for your next masterpiece.
-You were a serial killer, but you had specific targets you went after, you went after other serial killers only, because you found that they were painted in such a beautiful color of fear when you went after them.
-It was amusing to you, to hear those who had killed others, who had been begged for mercy but gave none, begging you for mercy, begging you not to kill them. Alas- you were much like them; you had no mercy to give.
-During the day you were a teacher at an art school, teaching the students about the great Shakespeare, from history lessons to showing them how to act to putting on performances of their own.
-It was an odd day for you, when Sari brought in the Autobots, defenders of the city, to the school for an open house day, wanting to show them the variety of the arts.
-You chose to ignore it, for the moment anyway, as they went towards the sculpting section of the school first, but you had to admit that it was a little odd, they were robots, but you could still read them, seeing the colors of their souls. Could robots have souls? It was a question you wouldn’t get an answer to for quite a while.
-By the time they made it back around to your section of the school, you were in the middle of a mock performance for adults and older students only, showing your range of acting skills, grinning as you held up a prop knife, “Now when Juliet finds her beloved Romero dead of poison, she kisses him, one last time, in hopes that there was enough poison on his lips to kill her as well, so she wouldn’t be apart from him. After this failed, she took up his blade and stabbed herself, ending her life in a tragic suicide. When playing the part of Juliet, you must think about how you will sound if you were to stab yourself.”
-It was a little unnerving, listening to this explanation as you showed everyone that the knife is retractable, so as soon as the actor would stab themselves or others, it would just slide down into the handle.
-You went into a bit more detail, showing the diaphragm area of the torso, “This is where all Juliet actresses stab themselves, in the center of the chest. Now in this area, if you were to actually stab yourself, you wouldn’t be able to scream like you’ve seen some actresses do, as the lungs are right there and even if it was just a minor slice, they would quickly fill up with blood, much like how it would be if you were drowning, and if you managed to hit your heart as well, even just a bit, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend making any sort of noise or even move, as you will be quickly unconscious due to the blood no longer flowing to your brain. In short, if you were to stab yourself in the chest, like Juliet, you wouldn’t be screaming or making a big scene, you would immediately drop, and if you didn’t die immediately, you would bleed out internally within a few moments. Any questions?”
-Bumblebee lifted his hand and you smiled, pointing the knife at him, “You humans are scary!” you chuckled softly, hiding your mouth behind your hand, “We can be yes- but when you are wanting to be the best actor you can, you need to make your audience believe that you are the character you are playing. It’s part of the magic of theatre.”
-You’re not sure how it happened, but the Autobots and Sari began to visit you more, wanting to know more about acting, as you seemed like a nice person, one they could talk to easily and you had no problems showing them your knowledge.
-Little did they know, you learned what someone sounds like and does when they’re stabbed in the center of the chest, you’ve killed enough people in that way to know.
-You liked your new friends, they were unique, and you welcomed their questions, but you did have to be careful, not wanting to give anything too big away as to your side job.
-More and more reports were coming in about dead bodies turning up, with roses laid on the corpses, but the odd thing was that all of those who were coming up dead had been found to be serial killers themselves.
-The city was alight with who was killing the serial killers, many claiming whoever was doing this was just another killer, while others were more ‘open’ to the thought of this mysterious person as they were ridding the streets of serial killers, making it safer.
-Optimus was torn, as he could see the good this person was doing, taking out threats, but they were still killing others, something that Prowl and the others all agreed with as well.
-They needed to put a stop to this vigilante, but catching them has proven difficult, as whoever this was, was a very cautious person, making sure they wouldn’t get caught, or even seen on surveillance, wearing an outfit that looked like something out of a movie, with a long flowing cape, a large hat, and a full mask over their face- they didn’t want to be caught.
-Little did they know that who they were searching for was right under their noses, and you wanted to keep it that way, the less you know of your little ‘hobby’ the better.
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aki13th · 2 years ago
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#serial killer au #fun fact about these guys! #out of all the dippers ive made this one sleeps the best! #sleeps like a baby after axing a domestic abuser #crazed serial surgeon bill was his own first patient and gouged his eye out with a fork when he was 16 #it stung! #they obviously figure it out after a while #im thinking one of bills victims escapes and runs into dipper #trying to tell this detective he knows who the killer is #and dippers face suddenly turns deathly serious #out of the frying pan into the fire for this poor victim rip #i imagine dipper really has to contemplate if bill categorizes as a 'bad guy' #i mean... he's a killer. but like. same? #okay okay. Dipper's moral compass wavers this one time and he decides not to ax his partner for being the other killer #bill is obviously ecstatic about the revelation #gives his beautiful little killer a kiss while there's still blood on his own mouth #gross #but what a convenience the reveal would be! bill only ever killed for the rush of dissection #and dippers not gonna stop hunting down criminals anytime soon. bill gets to ease up on the night prowling then and just wait #his pinetree will be back soon with another lovely body (the first being his own of course vuv) #yes bill does think Dipper's hot splattered in blood slightly breathless and only slightly mortified by his own deeds. its cute (via thatonegayship)
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SERIAL KILLER AU 🥺👉👈
Bill and Dipper are long-time friends and partners of Gravity Falls' detective department, and they've been on the same case for over 4 years.
They've solved other crimes on the side; their record's pretty impressive. Except for the string of murders they've yet to stop, and who exactly is behind it. It's up to them to catch whoever's been out and about slaying the citizens of Gravity falls.
Problem: they're the killers.
Aaaaaand, they have no idea that their partner is the other one.
Bill started the whole thing because of his strange obsession with organs and teeth; he's really just looking for a good dissection.
Dipper's got it out for criminals in general. Anyone who deserves it (which doesn't include himself, apparently).
When it all starts, they both think they're the only killer on the block, only to start getting these cases, examine the victim's bodies, and realizing- oh, that's definitely not my handy work.
Now they're boarder line obsessed with figuring out who the other murderer is, all while pretending- in the presence of their "oblivious" partner- that there's only one killer. They split up the work (Bill takes Dipper's victims, Dipper takes Bill's), and have been on each other's trails for years.
Maybe it's admiration. Maybe it's something more. Maybe they're both just crazy.
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avocado-writing · 2 years ago
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God fucking bless you for letting me write this. Could very much be a continuation of ‘Crossed Paths’.
Reader x Sub!Tangerine
RATED E, 18+ MINORS DNI. 
Tagging: @honestlywtfisgoingon @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​​ @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty​ (thank u yourlocalgayghost for the gif!)
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Tangerine, overall, is a wonderful partner.
He’s attentive in life and in bed. Understands the limitations of your job, because his is the same. Is committed to making you happy whenever you have a moment to spend together.
With all this being said. He sometimes has an issue with… control.
Which you understand. It’s in the nature of being a contract killer. He gets worried that if every little thing isn’t meticulously planned they will go wrong. To be fair, it’s what almost got him killed on that train. So you do get it. You do.
So sometimes you need to help him give up that control, and know what it feels like when he surrenders it to someone else.
Like right now. He’s on his knees on the bedroom floor, stripped while you’re fully clothed. He rests his hands on his thighs, breathes so deeply you can see his chest expand and contract. His shoulders rise and fall. Every inch of his beautiful skin move.
“Colour?” 
He doesn’t respond. He’s lost in his own head again. You reach out and cup his chin in your hand, raise his eyes to look at you.
“Give me a colour, handsome.”
He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs. It looks delicious. He can’t quite meet your gaze, so unused to this level of vulnerability.
“Green,” he manages. Good. Green means continue. And that’s precisely what you do, reaching into your pocket and slipping out your gift for him.
His breath freezes in his beautiful throat as you buckle the collar in place. He manages a single little chuckle, so absolutely flabbergasted at what’s happening it’s all that he can do. 
You hook a finger between the collar and his skin and check it’s not too tight. Hot blood thrums through his veins and you can feel every heartbeat of it. 
You run your thumb over the word that’s now been embossed over his throat: your name.
“Just to remind you who takes your breath away,” you tell him, with a smile. You bury your fingers in his hair and raise his head high enough so that you can kiss him without having to kneel down yourself. You like this kind of kissing. When your tongue has dominance, when you can suck his lower lip between your teeth and tug on it.
“Still green?” you ask, looking at how kiss-pouted his mouth has become. He takes in a shuddering, overwhelmed breath, and nods.
You head back to the bed. Cross your legs. Watch him.
“Touch yourself for me, darling.”
He seems nervous about it at first. Shy, perhaps. But you are so, so lucky to have such a position of privilege that you get to watch him be shy. That he lets you close enough to see him be vulnerable.
Carefully, he wraps a hand around his already fully erect cock and starts to pump it. Precome leaks from his tip over his calloused knuckles, and he gathers it in his palm in order to make his strokes easier. He groans, throwing his head back, bringing the collar tight against his throat. 
God, he is beautiful. You’re sure the angels made him. Like he’s been carved from marble and you’re fortunate enough to have him kneeling for you. 
He reaches around to cup his own balls, holding himself as he fucks up into his right hand. A fine sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead, sticking his hair to his skin. A single bead of it runs down to his jaw and you have to hold yourself back from licking it off.
Right now, this is all about him. 
His cockhead is a ruddy, abused red. He thumbs the slit there and groans at the overstimulation of it all. The bite of the collar choking his breath just a little. The feeling of his own hands giving him pleasure. And you, gorgeous you, sitting on the bed with lust-blown pupils taking it all in.
“Can I… I’m going to…” he doesn’t know how to ask for permission, but you find it admirable that he’s trying. 
“Come for me, love.”
And he does, with a bitten-off roar. You can practically see the muscles in his abdomen twitch as he releases thick, pearly ropes of come, decorating his stomach and hand. He sits there, still rutting his hips forward, milking every last drop of his orgasm from himself. 
He breathes hard, reeling from the intensity of the moment. You crook your finger at him and he finds the strength to crawl over to you. Fucking crawl. You reward him by catching his mouth in a searing kiss.
“You’re so good for me,” you sigh, dreamily. He drops his head to your sternum, listening to your heartbeat. Grounding himself. 
He deserves this. He deserves to let go. And you’ll always look after him.
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thedaredevilsgirl · 3 years ago
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Bad Nights Good Decisions
Warning: Mention of violence, alcohol and blood, Age difference (reader is older than 22).
Word count:1081
A/N: I was in the mood to write something fluff for Frank and this came up. Would you like a part two?
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It was quick, he didn't even think when his fist met the guy's face squarely breaking the nose of the idiot who clearly had no manners if he was trying to harass a woman in that bar. "Stay out of trouble" Frank repeated to himself before leaving the house, but what could he say, there was that insatiable thirst for revenge inside him, it wasn't like he could help it.
"If I know you've upset someone else I will blow your head off without hesitation" he says throwing the man's body on the cold and dirty floor of the bar "Let that be a warning" he turns away from the commotion he had created and goes to the nearest men's room.
Frank finds it strange when he sees a girl in there, curled up on the floor while crying, he looks at the sign outside checking if he really was in the right bathroom.
The unknown girl was so entertained in her own tears that she doesn't even notice Frank washing the blood from her hands in the sink.
"You know this is the right men's room?" he asks as he pulls out some paper towels to wipe his hands.
"What?" you say finally lifting your face to look at him "Really?"
Even with the makeup smeared and running down your face Frank still thought you were so beautiful and adorable.
"Yes, I'm sure this is the men's room."
"I guess I didn't pay much attention before I went in, it's like the night just gets worse" you cover your face with your hands going back to crying.
Frank tries to get out of the bathroom, to stay out of more trouble, whatever was going on with you it was none of your business, but he couldn't.
"Are you okay?" He asks turning around and kneeling down in front of you.
"Yes," you say in a voice broken by tears.
"I don't know if I believe you" he sits down next to you.
"I was supposed to be at a date my best friend organized tonight and it's just terrible, first this place is horrible for having a date" Frank laughs at your comment, really that bar didn't seem to be suitable for a date "Second the guy is a complete jerk, it seemed like he was debauching every word out of my mouth and third I went out to get more drinks and when I came back to the table my best friend and my date were kissing, that just horrible."
"I'm sorry about that" Frank doesn't even realize that his hand, which a few minutes ago was punching a man, was now lightly stroking your back perhaps as a way of consoling you "But honestly, from the little you've told me they're not worth it."
"The worst part is that now I'm sitting on this dirty floor, crying and letting a stranger comfort me" you laugh a little at the situation you've gotten yourself into "And I don't even have a way to get home now, no money and I sure as hell am not going to hitchhike to one of them."
Don't do that, you don't even know the girl, Frank's mind was screaming, but what would be the problem with helping you? It would just be a kind act, it's not like he was going to fall in love with you, he wasn't even ready for that yet.
"I can give you a ride if you wish" he finally offers as he gets up off the ground.
"I just met you, I don't even know your name, you could be drunk or trying to kill me right now."
"I am Frank Castle" he doesn't even know why he had said his real name "I just had one beer and I am not trying to kill you."
"That's exactly what a handsome killer would say" he tried to ignore the handsome part.
"That's a great argument, but I swear I'm not going to kill you, just make sure you get home safely, you don't look well" he says offering his hand to help you up.
"Ok, I am Y/N" you introduce yourself as soon as you get up from the floor "But I have pepper spray and a taser inside my bag and I am not afraid to use them" Frank laughs "That is a threat."
"I know, and I believe you".
━─┈✩☽🌑☾✩┈─━
Finally at Frank's car just after you practically ran out of the bar so that you wouldn't be seen by your friend, you finally manage to take a deep breath.
"Thank you so much for getting me out of there Mr. Castle" you thank him after saying your address.
"Sir? I'm not that old."
"I don't know your age, so..."
"I'm 35" to be honest with yourself he looked younger "and you?"
"22" shit, Frank was attracted to a 22 year old girl "Anyway Frank, thanks for getting me out of there, if it wasn't for you I would probably still be crying in that bathroom."
"You're welcome, some people say I give off a vigilante vibe" he says as an attempt at humor.
"At least this has taught me something" you say seriously "I'm going to die alone, I'm no good at this dating thing, it's not the first time something like this has happened."
"Don't say that, it was just a bad date, I've been there."
"Married?"
"I used to be" Frank says with a sad smile.
"Divorced?"
"Widowed."
"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, I shouldn't have asked that."
"It's okay, but you should listen to me, one bad date doesn't mean your whole romantic life doesn't exist anymore, you'll find someone" Frank wondered when he suddenly became a love counselor, Billy would probably laugh at that whole story.
"Thank you" she says as soon as he stops in front of your building "For the ride, for the advice, for everything...Frank".
Frank watches you get out of the car and close the door behind you, he wanted to see you again, he would probably regret what he was about to do but why not try.
"Y/N" he says as soon as he opens the car window and you walk back over to it "I know this is going to sound so weird because we just met and you literally had a terrible date, but it would be great if you would agree to go out with me" Frank was no longer in control of his mind at that moment.
"I..." You smile shyly "I'd love to, I'm free this weekend if you want" he agrees before handing you his cell phone to put your number in it "I'll see you Saturday".
"I can't wait.
Maybe Frank has made a good decision tonight.
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago
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єxτrατєrrєsτriαℓ (ραrк sєσทgнωα) rατє∂
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ραiriทg: αℓiєท! ραrк sєσทgнωα (ατєєʑ)× нυмαท! rєα∂єr (ƒємαℓє)
gєทrє: αทgsτ, ƒ��υƒƒ, sмυτ, ∂ysτσρiαท/ sci-ƒi/ ƒαทταsy αυ
sυммαry: ωнєท τнєy cαмє αท∂ iทvα∂є∂ τнєir ρℓαทєτ, нυмαทiτy ∂єscєท∂є∂ iทτσ cнασs αท∂ iทsαทiτy, нυทτiทg τнєм ∂σωท αท∂ vσωiทg τσ rєταкє τнєir нσмє. нσωєvєr, y/ท ∂σєsท'τ вєℓiєvє τнєy αrє ∂αทgєrσυs, ทστ αƒτєr sєєiทg σทє υρ cℓσsє αท∂ ρєrsσทαℓ.
ωσr∂ cσυทτ: 5к+
ωαrทiทgs: ∂ysτσρiαท sσciєτy, viσℓєทcє, αℓℓυsiσทs τσ ∂єατн, мαss ∂єsτrυcτiσท, єxτrατєrrєsτriαℓ вєiทgs, sℓigнτ нyρทστisм, кiทєτic ρσωєrs, sυρєrทατυrαℓ scєทєs, sєxυαℓ scєทєs iทcℓυ∂iทg вriєƒ вrєαsτ ρℓαy, ƒiทgєriทg, αท∂ υทρrστєcτє∂ sσƒτ, vαทiℓℓα iทτєrcσυrsє (αℓωαys υsє ρrστєcτiσท єvєท iƒ yσυ'rє ƒυcкiทg αท є.τ).
iทsρirατiσท: є.τ вy кατy ρєrry
ταgℓisτ: @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @deja-vux @rvse-miingi @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki
✧*:.。..。.:*✧✧*:.。..。.:*✧✧*:.。..。.:*✧✧*:.。..。.:*✧
The world forever remembered the day when the sun suddenly went dark when it wasn't even close to being evening yet. The darkness that shrouded the city made them anxious, which then turned to fear when shining beams of light suddenly passed through the sky and fell onto various parts of the earth. At first they thought they were shooting stars or even asteroids that were there to destroy the planet. But alas, masses of rock from space don't have a perfectly oval shape and neither do they have blinking lights covering most of the base. And they certainly don't have strange beings coming out of them. When humanity saw the otherworldly creatures, they immediately went into panic, running for their lives, not wanting to find out or not if they were intelligent, friendly or were cold blooded killers. They simply shut themselves away, causing chaos amongst their land and hurting each other more than anything else.
Y/N definitely remembered that day but for different reasons. At the time, she was in the outskirts of the city, perched on top of a tree as she usually did to escape the bustling city life she was used to. Half daydreaming and half asleep, her leg swung idly as the warmth of the sun casted down on her face. She was jolted fully awake when something like thunder resonated from the heavens, her eyes immediately finding her surroundings to be pitch black. She squinted her eyes, trying to adjust her sight. A colossal spaceship landed near where she was, causing the earth to shake and she let out a piercing scream when she tumbled down from the tree, her knee getting scraped in the fall.
She let out a pained groan as she tried to get back up, but her legs gave out from how badly she was hurting. Looking up, her eyes went wide when a door opened from the ship, cold smoke blasting out and some of it reaching where she was, making her cough softly. She held her breath when several figures started pouring out of the ship, all of them scattering towards different directions. They all donned the same white uniform, their faces covered by a gaiter styled face covering in the same color. When one of them started nearing where she was, her feet scrambled to get up and hide. Only managing to take two steps before she tripped once more, the extraterrestrial turned his head in the direction of the sound and proceeded to go investigate.
Realizing that she had been caught, Y/N gripped onto the trunk of the tree, nails scraping so harshly that she felt blood trickling down. Finally able to stand upright, she turned once more to run but was stopped when two hands slammed against the tree, trapping her in place. The poor girl trembled in fear as two cold eyes looked straight at her. Scanning her body, the being's eyes took in her damaged knee, blood pouring out as some of the skin and tissue was badly torn off. Getting down on one knee, the being took off one its gloves that covered its hand before reaching out to press against her wound. Y/N flinched when they made contact with her scrape and nearly kicked them away but when a purple light emanated from their hand she stood still to see what would happen. When the otherworldly creature pulled its hand away, she was in shock when she saw that her knee was completely healed, not a scratch as if nothing had happened, as if she didn't suffer a nasty fall.
"How...how did you..?" She whipped her head towards the person or non-person in front of her, had gotten up and was slowly creeping their body closer to hers.
The being murmured out some words in a language she did not recognize, and she knew it wasn't just caused by the covering around their face. She gasped sharply when they suddenly pressed her back onto the tree, hands firmly keeping her in place. Once establishing that she would not run away anytime soon, the extraterrestrial lifted one hand up and pulled its covering off. Y/N was speechless as she gazed up into the most beautiful and perfect face she had ever seen. The being's face seemed to be perfectly sculpted to perfection by gods themselves. Blade straight nose, chiseled jawline and sharp angled eyes perfectly complimented each other and distinguished them as someone not from her world.
Before she could even comprehend what they were doing, she felt their hands cup her cheeks as they pressed their pink and soft lips against her own. When she tried to pull away, the creature only clung her tighter to them, their kiss becoming more forceful, tongue dipping inside her mouth which had her moaning. It seemed the extraterrestrial noticed the effect they were having on her since she could feel them smirking against her lips, and indeed they were still smirking when they pulled away and looked back at her. They curiously studied her face, as if they were trying to figure out something.
"Y/N? Is it?"
She was startled when she heard them say something she understood and even more so that they knew her name.
"You actually....speak my language?" She asked them.
The extraterrestrial chuckled softly.
"I do now."
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8 months had passed ever since the aliens first invaded the world, and things only went from bad to worse. The government fell in the hands of civilians who decided to take control after they failed in not only giving them answers but in failing to drive the intruders away. Without a proper leader to govern them, the people just ran rampant through the streets, criminal activity and violence escalating each day that passed. The only real form of leadership or organization that still was existed was the Resistance force, a group of individuals who had gathered together to fight off all the aliens, which always resulted in unnecessary attacks and bloodshed. And unfortunately for Y/N, her own father was one of the ones leading that force.
She shook her head everytime she watched him and all the other people march off in search of extraterrestrials, hoping to demolish them once and for all. Every time they went out, very few returned, but that wasn't the part that worried her.
What worried her was imagining if her friend was one of the few extraterrestrials that had been taken down, because as she'd learn, they were definitely capable of being killed. She let out a sigh and closed the blinds of the kitchen window to continue her task of washing dishes. It seemed that was her life from now on, attending to the house while her dad was away fighting off beings who were actually harmless as she soon learned. But of course, she could never say anything about it, one because no one would believe her given how brainwashed and unreceptive they were and two, which was the most important one, she had promised her otherworldly friend not to spill anything about the mission they were currently carrying out and she intended to keep that promise.
"Aliens! They're here!"
Hearing the frantic commotion outside that was followed by a loud blaring of sirens and shotguns being fired, Y/N ducked and stayed away from any windows or any glass. She slowly crawled her way out the door and went outside, as stupid as it was but whenever there was an attack such as these ones, she always went out to ensure no child was wandering the streets and accidentally got caught in the action. She didn't care that she was risking her own life in doing so.
She carefully ran through alleys, taking cover behind walls or dropping to the ground when she heard shots being fired. It had become a lot easier for her now than it was in the beginning. Peeking her head out, she was relieved to see that most of the civilians had already cleared themselves out. But her relieve was short lived when she saw a white uniformed figure fall in the middle of the street, their hand clutching their left side which was stained blue, clear indication they were seriously wounded. Even with their face covered, she recognized their eyes right away.
"Seonghwa." She whispered softly, panic rising in her when she heard more shots being fired in his direction.
Looking at the other side, her face paled when she saw that it was none other than her own dad who was pursuing him, gun in his hand as he reloaded bullets in them. She looked back towards Seonghwa, who was trying to desperately heal himself faster, but was running out of time. With her dad getting closer and aiming his gun right at him, Y/N didn't even think and bolted out of her hiding place, heading straight towards her father.
"Dad don't!" She exclaimed as she tipped over his gun, causing him to shoot instead towards the opposite direction. Both of them hit the pavement with the strength she used to make sure he didn't hurt her friend.
"Y/N! Get off me!" Her father grunted as he shoved her off his body. Grabbing a hold of his gun once more, he made way to aim once more at his enemy but unfortunately he was too late. When he looked back, he was surrounded by two other extraterrestrials, one of them holding a small device that he threw onto the ground which helped them teleport out of there instantly, leaving behind nothing but a faint cloud of smoke.
Livid at having his prey taken away from his hands, he turned his attention back to his daughter who was barely standing up. When she lifted her head up, she was instantly struck back to the floor as the brute force of her father's fist against her face knocked her down.
"You stupid bitch! You let them get away!"
Each kick laid against her stomach was felt not only by her but by the extraterrestrial being that had connected his mind with hers. From miles away, inside one of the space crafts, he cried out in pain and clutched his abdomen as he felt each and every one of the violent acts laid on her body. With raging and glowing eyes, he pulled off all the wires and needles connected to his body and stormed out of the room, ignoring the protests coming out of the medical team that was tending to his wounds.
"Seonghwa! Stop! You're not healed yet!" One of his comrades tried to stop him.
"I don't care Hongjoong! Y/N is in trouble and I need to save her!" He tried to pry off the other male's fingers off him.
"You can't go! It's too risky. You'll get caught." He tried to reason with Seonghwa.
"If I don't go she could die! She saved me and now I must go save her!"
Having left with no other choice, Hongjoong used his supernatural strength to pin his friend to the wall, keeping him locked in there with no way to escape.
"Yes you must, but now is not the time! You're hurt, if you go now you'll only get yourself killed and then what will happen to her?"
Seonghwa's lip quivered in rage and hurt. He was unable to speak let alone move. He looked down at the floor and wept softly, his mind filled with images of her bruised and bloodied body in agony and pain after the beating she just endured. He knew in such a state, he couldn't even contact her telepathically.
"There's only a few more days until we have to leave back to the home planet. Our mission will be completed and if you still want..... you can take her back with you."
Seonghwa whipped his head up at Hongjoong's words, but before he could get his hopes up, Hongjoong raised a hand.
"Only if she wants to. You can't force, hypnotize nor abduct her. Am I clear?"
Seonghwa immediately nodded.
"Yes Hongjoong."
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Y/N laid in her bed, body still sore even though 2 days had already passed since that awful day. Her sides would ache if she put too much strain on them, but at least she was finally able to walk again. What she really wanted to know was how Seonghwa was doing. Was he all right? Was he too injured? Did he make it? Or did he..?
She pulled her blanket over her face to keep herself from thinking such things. She only wished he'd talk to her like he usually did at night. It was funny considering the first time she heard his voice in her head she was beyond freaked out, but now she had grown accustomed to it, sometimes even scolding him for bugging her so much.
"Are you awake?"
She couldn't keep the smile of her face as she finally heard his voice after so long. But wanting to play it cool, she forced a huff out of her mouth.
"I am now no thanks to you weirdo." She responded, her voice sounding grumpy and making Seonghwa chuckle.
"You know I'm not that knowledgeable with your language yet, so I'm not sure what that word means, but I'm deducing it's not a compliment." He asserted.
"How can you still not know what some words mean? Didn't you suck the language out of me when you slipped your tongue inside my mouth months ago? Wasn't that enough?" She chastised him, yet her cheeks flushed pink as she recalled the first time they met and he greeted her with a kiss, which she ended up finding out was a method his kind employed to be able to understand and talk to beings that spoke differently from them.
"We only grasp the basics, our abilities only stretch so far." He calmly explained.
Y/N sat up and tugged at different ends of her blanket.
"Does that mean you've gone around on other planets kissing other people?" She questioned him, her voice tinted with a hint of jealousy at the thought of Seonghwa kissing someone else.
"I may have kissed other kinds, but I can assure you that you're the only one I've used tongue with." He smirked to himself as he read her thoughts.
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" She felt bitter knowing he had indeed gone around kissing other people.
"Well no... but that little action helped create the mind link with you. Lip to lip contact with another creature helps us communicate with them, adding tongue is a way to communicate and connect telepathically with the individual. Hence why I have been talking to you and vice versa without having to utter a single word. That and I can see what's going on in that tiny head of yours." He finished with a suspicious snort that unsettled her.
"Does that mean... you've been reading my thoughts all these months?" She fidgeted nervously.
"Some, not all. Although I've accidentally stumbled upon some that are rather..... interesting if you ask me."
Y/N whined as she slumped her face into her pillow and let out a high pitched scream. She felt so embarrased knowing he probably knew some of the explicit thoughts she's had at times that involved him.
"Do me a favor and take one of your laser guns and just vaporize me out of this world." She begged him.
"I'm afraid protocol doesn't allow me to vaporize any individuals without proper cause. So you're stuck with knowing that I know that you want me to-"
"Ok stop! Please don't finish that sentence and pretend like what you saw in my head wasn't real." She sighed.
"As you wish."
Seonghwa stayed quiet for a while, biting his lower lip as he pondered about how to approach his next subject. He knew it was now or never.
"Hey Y/N?" He asked softly.
"Yeah?" She responded.
"Can you..... do you think you could meet me in the place we first met?"
Y/N looked out her window and saw that it was past the curfew established by the Resistance, no doubt most of them standing guard at every street and corner, making sure everyone stayed indoors while keeping watch.
"I'm not sure I'll be able to get out without being caught."
"I thought just as much."
Before she knew it, Seonghwa appeared right in front of her bed, making her shriek as she pulled her blanket to cover body up. She was about to ask him what was going on, but he was faster as he took hold of her wrist before transporting them both in the outskirts of the city in the blink of an eye. Y/N cowered and shivered when she felt the night breeze blow, her arms wrapping around herself since she had gone to bed wearing nothing but black panties and a flimsy white tank top that left little to the imagination for anyone who saw her chest. And seeing the extraterrestrial looking intently at her, she knew he was taking in her state of near undress.
"Please tell me you don't have laser vision that let's you see under my clothes." She squinted at him.
"Some of my kind do posses that ability, but I'm not one of them....." Stepping closer to her, he tilted her chin up and grinned smugly.
"Unfortunately."
"Why you little perv-" She was cut off mid sentence when Seonghwa inexplicably wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace.
"You're cold, let me warm you up."
She indeed started to feel heat being produced from his body which started to flow into her own. It felt so nice, not only having him act as a personal heater but to just have him hold her after having to go through endless shit day after day. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his shoulder, slowly drifting off to sleep right then and there. One of Seonghwa's hands was busying itself by softly brushing her hair, being careful not to accidentally pull any out. He stayed like that for a few minutes before finally blurting out:
"The mission is finished. We'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow."
Y/N felt her heart sink when she heard him say that.
"So....bringing me here was so you could say goodbye?" She lifted her head off his shoulders and stared at the ground with a blank expression.
"Well it depends..."
Y/N raised an eyebrow when he paused.
"Depends on what?" She urged him to finish.
"If you wanna leave this place and come with me." He offered, his eyes growing rounder as he hoped she'd say yes.
Y/N looked at him in disbelief.
"Are you being serious right now or is this some kind of alien joke?"
Seonghwa nodded in earnest.
"Deadly serious. I want you to come to my home with me. I know.... I hope you'll like it. It's not that different from your planet, although you know the technology is more advanced and flying cars and what not..."
When he saw that she wasn't budging, Seonghwa gulped nervously.
"But the location I live in is a more... tropical one. The water is sparkling blue, the glittering sand is warm to the touch, and the weather is always cool and refreshing. Wouldn't you like to live in a place like that with me?" He spoke those last two words out softly but he knew she definitely heard them.
He could hear and see her thoughts, debating whether or not it would be wise to leave with him or not. She looked behind her towards the city she lived in, almost in complete ruin with possibly no hope of redemption.
"There's nothing left for me here, is there?" She asked to herself rather than to him.
When she looked back at him, there was still a hint of doubt in her mind. Clasping his hands on her head, Seonghwa's thumbs rubbed circles on her temples as his orbs started turning a light yellow color.
"Please come with me. Stay with me and live with me." He spoke out softly, his voice having a light melodic tune to it.
Y/N felt herself getting immensely drawn to him, her thoughts beginning to fill up with images of staying by his side. It was as if she was getting pulled to him against her will.
"Wait..... Are you using hypnosis on me?!" She exclaimed in anger, pushing him away when she realized what was going on.
"It was worth a try." He admitted in defeat, head hung low in shame.
"Since you failed miserably..... I'll spare you the humiliation and accept to go with you."
Seonghwa widened his eyes when he heard her.
"Wait, for real?"
Y/N responded by placing a kiss on his cheek.
"Don't make me regret my decision though or I'll steal your laser gun and vaporize you." She warned him.
Lacing his fingers with hers, Seonghwa nudged her to follow him.
"I promise you won't."
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Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the bed she was currently in, alternating between wrapping herself with the blanket and kicking it off a second later. She was still in the middle of her fight with the covers that she failed to notice the door opened and her current roommate walk into their small compartment. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her struggle with an amusing smirk.
"Having fun there?" He broke her out of her trance.
"I can't sleep, I feel like I'm developing claustrophobia from mostly staying inside these 4 walls, and I'm still suffering from motion sickness." She grumbled, 1 week and she had still not adjusted to being inside an intergalactic spacecraft with no one but extraterrestrial beings to keep her company.
"Anything else you'd like to add?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow.
Y/N pouted her lips and stared up at him with puppy dog eyes.
"I'm lonely and want company?"
Unable to resist, Seonghwa faked an exhausted sigh as he began taking off his jacket.
"I'm off my piloting duties anyway, might as well get some rest before my next shift."
Finally happy at having someone by her side, Y/N made some space on the bed for Seonghwa to fit in, although she wondered if it would be big enough for the both of them since it was a rather compacted area. When she looked back at Seonghwa, she nearly wheezed when she saw him sliding right next to her completely bare. Catching her staring, Seonghwa continued on as if it was the most normal thing in the universe.
"What? Don't you humans go to sleep the same way we do?"
Y/N covered her red cheeks and turned her face away from him.
"N-no....we wear clothes when sleeping." She explained, body heating up from embarrassment. Seonghwa replied with a slight gruff.
"Seems impractical."
Wrapping one arm around her body, Seonghwa pulled Y/N down on the bed and held her close to him, his breath fanning against the nape of her neck.
"Try to rest." He suggested.
Y/N wondered how on earth was she supposed to rest knowing the extraterrestrial being was pressing his bare chest against her back? She tried hard not to move in fear of accidentally brushing along his cock.
"Wait, do aliens have dicks? I didn't really get a good look between his legs. I just saw abs and looked away."
Her thoughts began spiraling deeper and deeper into not so pure territory. She began wondering about Seonghwa's anatomy. Do his kind even have reproductive organs? Do they even have sex? What if he could produce tentacles out of his body that would suction onto parts of her body like some of the kinky hentai she watched a long time ago? That thought aroused her more than it should. How would it feel to have Seonghwa's tentacles latch onto her nipples and suckle them as another one slithered inside her core and probe around until it made a mess of her? She clenched her thighs inadvertently as her mind started to produce more and more dangerous scenes.
She was startled when she heard the alien behind her laugh softly.
"I hate to interrupt your sexual fantasy foolish human girl, but my kind do not possess the ability to produce the slimy limbs that you are imagining."
She had completely forgotten that their minds were still linked and if he wanted to, he could still read her mind. She buried her face deeper in the pillow, wanting to cry out in shame.
"I do apologize for that inconvenience, I'm afraid the closest you can get is my hands around you."
Y/N half gasped half moaned when she felt one of Seonghwa's large hands snake inside her sweater and cup her breast. His thumb tweaked at her nipple, giving it experimental tugs and pinches until finally settling for simply rubbing them since it seemed to produce more effects on her body. He listened intently to the way her breath hitched with every brush of his thumb and squeeze of her soft skin, feeling her body start to get warmer just for him.
"Isn't this what you wanted? I remember you often fantasized about having my hands all over you." He recalled all those times where he refused to go to sleep because he was too busy prying into her erotic thoughts that included him.
"Y-yes..." She breathed out.
"Did you only want them here?"
Y/N whined and shook her head.
"No.... want them- want them..." She felt embarrased to say it out loud even if she did have Seonghwa groping her chest, so she hoped he'd read her mind and give her what she wanted. Obviously he got the hint since he moved his hand and slipped it inside her shorts. Pushing her panties aside, Y/N groaned when he dipped two fingers past her slick folds. She was so unbelievably wet that even with the slow movements he was making, they could still faintly hear the squealching sounds that were being produced.
"Right here? This where you want them?" Adding a third finger inside, he drove them deeper inside her body as their pace intensified, the slopping noises becoming louder.
Y/N bit down on the sleeve of her sweater to muffle the moans that were spilling out, afraid of anyone hearing what was going on.
"Don't worry about anyone else, just focus on the way my fingers are invading your most intimate places. Tell me does it feel good? Do you like it?" He asked as his lips kissed across the side of her neck.
"Feels so good- I love it." She sighed blissfully as his fingers continued to swirl around her hole, tips curling so they could graze at her g-spot.
"Want to feel something even better?"
Y/N hummed in affirmation and allowed Seonghwa to move her onto her back. He surprised her when all he needed to do was tap twice against her clothes and they immediately vanished from her body, leaving her completely naked under him.
"How long have you been waiting to do that?" She eyed him suspiciously when his lips curled upwards in a cheeky grin.
"Far too long."
Cupping her cheeks, Seonghwa kissed her, almost like the first time when he came to her home, but this time the kiss was more passionate and full of raw emotions. He took his time and didn't slip his tongue inside her mouth, instead he wanted to savor how soft and plump her lips felt against his own, pulling away every few minutes only to catch his breath before diving back in to mold his mouth over hers. They were so lost in their heated kissing and tangled bodies, that they forgot they were both in their most intimate state until Seonghwa's member brushed along her slippery folds.
"Oh god-." Y/N stammered as her hips grinded up to feel more of Seonghwa, who had a proud smirk on his face.
"Are you going to be ok with an extraterrestrial being breeding you with his cock?"
Y/N grimaced slightly at his choice of words.
"Is that what you guys call it?"
"Well what do you guys call it?" He questioned.
"We like to call it fucking." She giggled.
Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows as his hands lifted her legs up to wrap them around his waist.
"I don't like it, sounds too impersonal and distant."
The cry coming out of Y/N's throat cracked and only half sounded when Seonghwa stuffed her full of his cock, his size stretching her out in a delicious sting.
"I prefer to get as close as possible."
Taking hold of her hands, he placed them on top of his shoulders before proceeding to rock his hips against hers. Y/N clung onto him as if her life depended on it. She closed her eyes and let her body succumb to his. Every touch from him was magnetizing, and she completely melted when his lips sought hers once more, a cosmic sensation pouring into her. Her nails dug onto the flesh of his back whilst her legs tangled themselves tighter around his waist, wanting to keep him near her as she started to feel a knot unraveling at the pit of her stomach, similar to the ones she'd feel all those nights she daydreamed about having him close to her. Only this time the feeling was more electrifying and intense, almost as if it was magic. Her eyes shut even tighter as the knot came loose and her lips began spilling out chants of Seonghwa's name as her juices flowed out of her body and coated his member that was still sliding deep inside her, not stopping so it could further heightened the sensation she was going through.
Feeling her release herself all over him, it was only a few moments later that Seonghwa himself vibrated against her body and filled her core with his own cum. His body started to faintly glow due to the rush he just felt at being so intimately connected with another person, the pulse in his heart beating so rapidly he thought it would burst any minute. Stroking her hair in a gentle manner, he pressed his forehead against hers, panting softly as he layed his body on top of hers, careful not to put too much of his weight on her.
"Never in my life did I ever believe that on one of our scouting missions would I meet someone like you."
Pulling back so he could look at her beautiful face, Seonghwa smiled with adoration and fondness at his loving partner
"Yet here I am, going back home with the brightest star in the universe."
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670 notes · View notes
ramp-it-up · 4 years ago
Note
Request:
Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).
Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀
Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?
At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)
Word Count: Around 2K
Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.
Maëlle
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One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.
You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.
You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.
Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.
You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.
—-
Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.
He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.
He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.
Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.
Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.
You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.
When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.
Even in Germany.
“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”
Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.
Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.
“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.
You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”
You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!
Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.
“No. Italian.”
You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?
“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.
“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”
This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.
“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”
“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.
You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.
You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.
You were confused.
“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”
Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.
You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.
Then the panic set in.
You didn’t know this man from Adam.
Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.
“Wait!”
You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.
Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.
He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.
“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”
“Maëlle.”
Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.
“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”
You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.
You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.
Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.
You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.
Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?
That thought made you smirk.
“What are you thinking?”
He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.
Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.
You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.
Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.
He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…
He had to stop. Chris took a step back.
You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.
And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.
“Can I give you a lift to campus?”
You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…
Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.
“Kann ich mitnehmen?”
He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”
Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.
Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.
“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”
“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”
Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.
“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.
You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.
He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.
You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.
You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.
“Let’s just get you… “
Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.
“Buckled in…”
Now you were sure your panties were soaked.
Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…
“….Tight.”
Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.
“Danke.”
You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.
Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.
You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.
Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.
He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.
Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.
He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…
Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.
You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.
You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.
You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.
The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.
You didn’t know each other.
You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.
“Danke, Christopher.”
“Hey, Maëlle…”
You both chuckled. Chris continued.
“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”
You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.
You were breathless.
“Well…”
“Christopher…”
You two interrupted each other again.
This time you continued.
“Thank you.”
You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.
He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.
Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.
“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”
You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.
“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”
Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.
Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.
——
Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️
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294 notes · View notes
kamotoshi · 4 years ago
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reminders [fushiguro tōji x reader]
pairing: fushiguro tōji x fem reader
genre: fluff
warnings: a bit of swearing; brief mentions of past trauma, manipulation, and financial instability/struggles
word count: 2.3k
overview: a sunset picnic reminds him to stop for a moment and remind his wife how he truly feels about her
note: just another fic to serve as evidence for my obsession with making big, beefy 2d men with tough exteriors completely soft for their significant others (wives especially)
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“Aren’t we just the cutest couple ever?”
Tōji’s eyes move from the spread of food laid out across the patterned blanket beneath the two of you over to either side of him, where a few other couples and families have set up their picnic spots for the evening, then, to your phone. A glance at the screen displaying the timed photo you’d just spent the past five to ten minutes setting the scene for and perfecting brings a smirk to his face.
“Just the right amount of nauseating.”
“Like, to the point where people are a little envious, but they don’t think we’re being too over the top, right?”
“Right.”
You hum in understanding as you pop a piece of fruit into your mouth.
“But, I would say err on the side of caution and don’t post the super lovey-dovey ones. Actually, please don’t. That’s a request now.”
Your hand flies to your chest to match the look of feigned shock on your face at his words. He doesn’t miss how the diamond on your finger sparkles in the amber glow of the setting sun. The thought crosses his mind that he wants to buy you a bigger one when he has enough money to set aside—something that would shine just a bit brighter. Almost as brightly as that beautiful smile of yours he had the pleasure of seeing each day, if he was lucky.
“You mean… I can actually post a picture that I took with my notoriously elusive husband?”
With a nod, he shifts his gaze to the horizon—or whatever he can see of it peeking around the sides of each building—for a moment. “Just know it’ll probably end my job,” is his response given with a sigh, “Nobody’ll fear me after they see that I enjoy sunset picnics with my adorable wife, now, will they?”
“Or,” you offer with a grin, scooting closer to him so his arm can snake around your waist, “it could give you an advantage, people thinking you’re kinda sweet. Like, oh, he’s a cold-blooded killer who takes care of business, but he’s got a soft side, too. And then, bam! You swoop in and they’ll never even know what hit ‘em.” Sweeping a hand dramatically across the landscape in front of you, as if you want him to picture the scene in your head, you add, “Suddenly, you’re the talk of the town. Women want you. Men want to be you. Hell, they’d probably want you too.”
“And that’s the story of how I end up on the front covers of magazines, right?”
“Exactly. This is just the start of your success story, baby.” Tenderly, you place a hand on the side of his face to bring it closer to your lips. After pecking him on the cheek, you whisper, “Just try not to forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”
He turns to look directly at you, his eyebrow raised with incredulousness in an expression you’ve seen many times before. “You kidding me? I would never. Be famous, I mean.”
The teasing smack you land on his chest doesn’t deter him from leaning down towards you to press a kiss against your lips that you readily return in spite of your complaints at his devious comment. He relishes in the sweet taste lingering on his tongue when he pulls away, and the affection present in your half-lidded gaze brings a comforting warmth over him akin to the feeling of finally crawling into bed after a long day. In his moment of distraction, you’re able to sneak in another meeting of your lips before grabbing one of the snack boxes you’d meticulously crafted and dropping it into his lap.
“Since I’m nice, unlike you, I’ll still let you eat the food lovingly prepared by your loving wife.”
“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, giving your thigh an appreciative squeeze, “You know I love you.”
“I mean, I hope you do. You did marry me, and stick with me all these years, after all, you weirdo.”
He chuckles and pats your leg before shifting his attention to the delicious food you’d put together for the two of you, and you settle down beside him after collecting your own. His free hand plants on the ground beside your opposite hip, closing the gap between you.
Each day that he gets to spend with you he’s thankful for. But there’s something different about those where the sight of the sun slowly descending toward the horizon is beautiful enough to draw both of you out of the house to sit and watch it. He can’t quite explain it, but everything about these days feels different. The harshness of the city seems to fade away for a bit. The air smells sweeter. His breaths come a bit more deeply. The absence of your body against his in some way is felt more intensely.
In between gazing ahead at the sunset—allowing his eyes to flicker to his meal, the kids zipping past every now and then on their bikes, or other passersby—he finds his attention being drawn back to you. Each feature of your face bathed in the golden light of the sun’s last rays brings an unexpected flutter to his heart. He’s never surprised by how gorgeous you are, but, still finds himself in awe of just how lucky he is each time he stops to take it all in.
Lucky that he gets to wake up next to you and see you in those quiet moments of the morning when your eyes are still struggling to focus and your cheek is stamped with each wrinkle of your pillowcase, but you look beautiful all the same. Lucky that the arms and legs he has draped around him until you both wake up sweaty in the middle of the night are yours. Lucky to be offered a refuge wherever you are. Lucky you’re one he promised to love for the rest of his life.
In the busyness of your days, sometimes things are assumed rather than said. He assumes the parting kiss he presses to your lips each time he leaves the house translates into a small, “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” Just like he assumes the way he pulls you onto his lap while you’re sitting together, watching a movie, sends a small message of, “I need you here, close to me.” Or the pause he takes to gaze into your eyes after your more passionate displays of affection means, “I love you more than I know how to say.”
He realizes, given the risky nature of his work, that thought alone isn’t enough, though. Maybe he’s too afraid of saying something that’ll curse you for his lips to form the words he’s thinking as often as they should, but if he was one to let his life be ruled by fear, he wouldn’t be sitting with you in the first place. He would’ve let his family wreak havoc on him for the entirety of his life, weighing it down with constant reminders of his failures. He would’ve let his fear of being vulnerable keep him from getting close enough to you to fall in love with you.
Yet, here he is, making relaxed conversation with you—his wife—as the two of you sit together beneath a sea of brilliant oranges, candied pinks, and the gentlest hues of lavender. With the way you use your steadily built and strongly maintained trust in him to speak so freely and be so vulnerable without fear of judgment, he feels it’s only fair that he shows his trust in you by doing the same. That he reminds you of his feelings rather than lets the implications behind his actions speak for him.
When he decides to mention it, most of the sky has lost its fire and quite a few of the other picknickers have packed up and returned home. But the two of you choose to remain out just a bit longer in the warmth of the summer night, bathed in the sound of cicadas chirping incessantly. “Hey babe?” he calls, giving your hand resting in his a gentle squeeze as his cheek drops to the blanket so he can look at you.
“Mm?” You shift onto your side and scoot closer to him, moving your interlaced hands to your chest, holding the back of his against your gently beating heart. On instinct, your other set of fingers find his face to brush a few strands of dark hair away from his eyes, and he presses feathery kisses to your palm.
Sighing against your skin, he asks, “Do I tell you I love you enough?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, you assure him, “I know you do.”
“Because I say it?”
You hum with uncertainty, fingers gliding from the scar at the side of his mouth down his neck, and to one of his broad shoulders. “More because I can see it in the way you look at me. But, then again, I also see you look at a really good meal the same way. Makes me kinda jealous sometimes,” is your answer given with a small, teasing smile, “Besides, I feel like I can safely assume that you’ve stayed with me all these years because you love me, right?”
“Of course,” he says, the strength in his voice contrasting the subtle, pained look behind his eyes, “But I don’t say it enough, do I?”
There’s a short pause before you murmur, “Not usually unless I say it first. But it tends to be more of a reflex for both of us, anyway. Like, ‘I’m heading out now, love you!’ or, ‘Goodnight, I love you,’ y’know?”
A gentle tug on your wrist pulls you towards him, until you’re propped up on both elbows, body leaning over his. Wrapping an arm around your waist brings your chests flush against one another and your faces mere centimeters apart. The way he’s regarding you as nothing else is as important as you are to him in this moment has you melting into the kiss he plants on your lips.
“You’re the love of my life.” Heat radiates from your chest all the way up to your face at his tenderly spoken words accompanied by his thumb skimming along your cheekbone. “And you deserve to hear me tell you how much I care about you more often because you’re the only person who’s made me feel deserving of love.”
The hand on your back slowly moves up and down, his fingers tracing along your spine. It was once deemed as a mindless behavior in your eyes, but after many years with him, you’ve come to learn that sometimes it’s a means of comforting himself or finding the courage to speak about something that’s been on his mind. To reassure him, you place a soft peck against the corner of his mouth and run your fingertips across his jaw.
He seems to find the strength he needs to speak the rest of his truth, since he continues, “I remember being terrified when I first realized how much I loved you. Because here I was, thinking I was only gonna marry someone as a way of erasing my connections to my family, and that falling in love would weaken me—make me easier to be manipulated—but you changed my mind. And I don’t think there’s a damn thing that could ever happen to make me wish I did things differently, even though we got married young, when we barely had enough money to our names to get ourselves through the week.”
A pang of somewhat bittersweet nostalgia ripples through you at the memories of sleeping on the floor, clinging to one another to keep warm during the cold, winter nights. Of how you’d both worked so tirelessly to make a living that sometimes all you’d do was cry into his shoulder when you got home. But soon, there was a couch. A bed. A table. A lamp that didn’t flicker. Then, a new place in a safer part of the city, filled with all the furniture and appliances you could need. Jobs that paid enough for the tears to subside.
The impulsiveness the two of you had displayed in your early twenties had gotten you into a lot of sometimes unbearable situations, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing had you somehow been granted the power to alter the past. While unpleasant, those events had helped the two of you get to where you are today, happier and more in love than ever.
“After all we’ve been through, and that you’ve stuck with me through, I at least owe it to you to remind you how much you mean to me instead of just assuming you know. Because you really do mean the world to me. So, this is me telling you that I love and appreciate you a lot more than I might feel capable of saying sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.”
With that same, bright smile of yours that he adores, you take your weight off your elbows to wrap your arms around him while he gives your body a tight squeeze in return. “I love you so much, Tōji,” you hum, heart swelling with joy.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
There’s a few moments of peaceful silence while the two of you remain wrapped up in a tight and much-needed embrace. Eventually, a deep exhale fans across your neck before he mentions, “That was pretty cheesy, huh?”
“Just a bit. But I promise not to tell anyone you’re secretly a bit of a sap, okay?” you comment, sending the two of you into a small fit of snickers. Your tone is more serious, however, when you mention, “It made me really happy to hear, though.”
“Good,” is his response as he moves his head so he can press his mouth to your temple. His next words are spoken quietly, as if just to himself, and nearly lost beneath the layers of environmental noise surrounding you, but you’re glad you hear them.
“That’s all that matters to me.”
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theewritingroomm · 4 years ago
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Happy’s Girl
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Summary: Happy finally get the courage to ask out Y/N Telford, who happens to be the daughter of none other than Chibs Telford. But neither Happy or Y/N stopped to think about how Chibs would react.  Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader  Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: Out of character Happy, kinda. swearing.  A/N: Happy is probably written out of character but I just love the ‘he’s a bad guy to everyone but her’ trope. Also, for those that wanted a continuation of THIS Happy imagine, this is the whole one shot. Tell me what you think!! Text divider by: @firefly-graphics​ 
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Y/N was walking out of the garage office and making her way to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She figured it was one of the guys coming to ask her about something related to the garage or to ask her if she had seen Gemma. Which she had not. But what she was not expecting was to turn around and see Happy standing there, and not meeting her eye. It confused her, she was used to seeing the killer hold a stare with anyone and not back down.
“What can I do for you Happy?” she asked, “Need something from the office?” 
“No, I actually just need to ask you something,” Happy paused, taking a second to look around for others. Y/N waited, hoping he would continue. 
“I was just wondering if you’d let me take you out?” 
As soon as the words left his mouth Y/N’s stomach erupted in butterflies. She had never expected one of the guys, let alone Happy to be asking her out. Especially considering her father had a seat at the same table and the repercussions for dating his daughter were always great. But Y/N could handle her father and his temper, and neither were going to stand in the way of going out with the guy she had been ogling at for as long as she could remember. 
With a smile on her face Y/N replied, “Of course Hap, I’d love to.” 
A wide smile broke across his face at her words. “Tonight? I can pick you up around 8.” 
“That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Y/N replied, the smile never leaving her face as she got into her car. 
Y/N was putting her earrings in when her doorbell rang. She let out an excited gasp as she run out of her bedroom and towards her front door. Sliding to a stop in front of it she took a moment to gather to breath before opening the door. 
“Hey,” she said breathless as the door opened to reveal Happy on the other side. 
“Hi,” he replied, nearly as breathless as Y/N had been. “You look amazing.” 
“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stepped out of her doorway. 
Happy took a step back to let Y/N lock her front door. He took a moment to admire her figure in the jeans that she had chosen to wear, thinking to himself that she was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with the best ass he’d ever laid eyes on. But that was something he would tell her later.
“You ready to go?” Y/N’s voice broke Happy out of his thoughts. 
Happy smiled and held his hand out for her to take. Y/N happily took it, letting him lead her to the motorcycle that sat next to her car. Happy handed her the helmet that was hung over the handlebars before mounting his bike. Y/N followed him shortly after, buckling the helmet as she slung her leg over the bike. 
“Hold on tight,” Happy said over his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he revved the engine of the motorcycle. 
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Nearly thirty minutes later Happy was pulling his bike into the empty parking lot of what looked like a bowling alley outside of Charming. As the two dismounted from the bike Y/N sent Happy a questioning look, as if to ask why the parking lot was empty. 
Happy seemed to catch on because he began to speak, “Buddy owns the place and owed me a favor. Figured we’d get a better chance to be more open if no one else was here.” 
Y/N simply nodded, knowing better than to question him as to why he was owed a favor. But she also couldn’t fault his thinking, which is why she did not argue with him when he grabbed her hand and led them to the front door. 
The door opened easily, indeed opening to an empty bowling alley. However, all of the lights were on and there was even a table set up at the start of one of the lanes piled with different types of food and drink. It shocked Y/N, as she had just been expecting a simple dinner or movie. She never expected Happy to put in so much effort to impress her. 
“Happy, this is...” she began, but was quickly interrupted by Happy. 
“It’s nothin’.” 
Y/N shook her head with a smile on her face, knowing that this man wasn’t going to accept any compliment or praise from her. And she didn’t get the chance to argue with him as he led her to the table. Once there Happy took a moment to set up the scoreboard for their game while Y/N poured them both a small glass of beer from the pitcher on the table.
“And we’re all set.” Happy spoke as he turned around to face Y/N who was unable to wipe the smile off of her face.
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Nearly four hours later the two of them were walking up Y/N’s driveway and to her front door. Y/N was still unable to rid her face of the smile that she had been sporting all night. From the surprise that was the bowling alley to the good food and great company she could not have asked for a better date.
“I had a great time tonight,” Y/N said as Happy walked her to her door after what she would consider a pretty good date. 
She turned to face him when they reached the door, smiling up at him. He gave her a small smile in return, the emotion actually reaching his eyes. 
“I did too,” Happy replied, taking a step closer to her so she was less than an arm’s length away from him. He reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, watching her e/c eyes flash to his lips. 
Happy took that as all the invitation he needed to lean down and brush their lips together; not kissing her yet giving her the chance to pull away is she wished. But Y/N didn’t pull away, instead she placed on of her hands on the side of his face, casting one final glace into his deep brown eyes before pulling him the rest of the way to her, slotting their lips together. 
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It was a soft, deep kiss. One that knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs and had her craving for more. Despite the feeling deep within her she pulled away, smiling as she could still feel the kiss on her lips. 
“Wow,” she breathed out against his lips, touching her forehead to his. 
Happy chuckled, pulled back a little more to look her in the eye, “You wanna do this again sometime?” 
Y/N nodded, “Pick me up next Friday at eight.” 
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As the weeks went on everyone could see the change in Happy’s demeanor, but no one was complaining. They all just wanted to know what girl had Happy so whipped. So, while sitting at the clubhouse bar a few weeks later Tig decided to ask. 
“Hey Hap,” Tig started, waving the larger man over, “I’ve got to ask man, whose got you so pussy whipped?” 
The handful of men around them laughed, including Jax and Chibs. Happy looked from Tig to Chibs, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to anger the Scotsman. But he soon realized that that was going to be next to impossible as the woman he’s been seeing is none other than his daughter. 
So Happy decided to bite the bullet and come clean. He’d rather Chibs knock him to the ground now rather than later, or in front of Y/N. 
“Y/N,” he mumbled, knowing that they all heard him. That much was evident by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. 
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“My fuckin’ daughter,” Chibs seethed as he got nose to nose with Happy. Happy nodded as the club house went silent. “Ya’ bangin’ my fuckin’ kid!” 
“Dating,” Happy replied, not backing down now. “We’re dating.” 
Chibs shook his head, anger pouring off the man in waves. “No, end it now. She’s not dating a Son, she deserves more than this life.” 
“I couldn’t agree more,” Happy began, “She deserves so much more than I can give her, and I’ve tried to tell her than. But she’s chosen to stay.” 
Happy took a deep breath, shocked with himself for feeling so many things about this situation and his girl, he wasn’t used to it. “I think I may love her,” he continued.
The clubhouse went deadly silent. No one dared make a sound as the anger rose in Chibs, rather many of them took a step back just as Chibs brought his arm back and slugged Happy across the face, sending the larger man stumbling back a step or two. Gasps and exclamations broke out of the men surrounding Happy and Chibs, waiting to see what would happen next. Many of them expected Happy to come back and lay Chibs out, none of them would blame him if he did. But Happy didn’t do anything but wipe what little blood escaped the cut on his lip.
“I’m not gonna fight you brother,” Happy said, putting his hands up near his chest. “It would kill her to know we went at it. But I’m not gonna lie to you brother, I think I love her.”
Chibs was seething, he didn’t want to hear anything Happy had to say especially when it came to his daughter. His daughter who he loved with everything in his heart, who he so desperately wanted away from the club life, his little girl. He wanted to hit Happy again but knew that he was right it would tear Y/N up. So instead Chibs turned around in a huff and walked away from the group of men, storming in the direction of the office near the garage.
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Y/N was sitting in the office with Gemma working on paperwork for the garage when the door opened. Both women looked up from their desks to look at the person who had opened the door, seeing Chibs standing in the doorway.
“Gem, can you give Y/N and I a minute?” he asked with very little emotion in his voice.
The older woman got up from her desk without a word, shooting Y/N a smirk and knowing look over her shoulder. Once the door closed behind her Chibs took a step forward towards his daughter.
“Y/N Telford, how could you not tell me?” her father growled out trying to keep himself from yelling.
Y/N was stunned for a moment. Her father had not talked to her like that since he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school. But she also had no idea what he was talking about, there was a lot that she didn’t let her father know simply because it would give him a heart attack if she did. And she let him know that.
“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb wit’ me. I know,” Chibs let out a long, angry breath. “I know your screwin’ Hap.”
Y/N looked at him stunned, “And? We’re dating, what’s the big deal?”
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Chibs stood there with his mouth open, stunned himself. He wanted to yell at her but refrained, knowing there was probably already a crowd of bikers standing outside the door.
“He’s a goddamned Son, Y/N! He’s done things that most can’t come back from. He’s just no good for you.”
Y/N shook her head as she stood up from her desk chair. She wanted to meet her dads eye, show him that she’s still the spitfire that he had raised her to be.
“None of that fucking matters Dad. You’re a Son, you’ve done the same things and I never look at you any different.” She took a step closer, “So why the fuck does it matter that its Happy? He’s more than proven that he will be able to take care of me, to keep me safe. And he makes me so happy Dad, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted for me to be happy?”
Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears from forming or falling. She didn’t want to argue with her dad especially not over something like this.
“Of course, I want you to be happy,” he nearly shouted, “But not with a Son, not with someone who could be putting you in danger.”
“This fuckin’ club is my family because of you and that’s why there’s always a chance that I’m in danger. So why shouldn’t I find a guy who can make me happy and protect me against the people that are after me because of you?” Y/N sighed as she looked at her father. He stood in the same spot with the same amount of rage behind his eyes. “Forget it, I’m not going to keep arguing with you.”
Y/N pushed her way past her father, catching his shoulder on her way to the door. She ripped the door open and watched a dozen men outside attempt to look busy as she stomped through the parking lot. No one attempted to stop her instead letting her storm to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Everyone cut their eyes to Chibs who still seemed to be fuming as the roar of a motorcycle’s engine roared through the air. Signaling Happy had decided to follow Y/N out of the parking lot.  
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Y/N slammed her front door as she walked into her house her anger at her father coming to the surface. She was livid with her father; he had no right to be that angry at her for dating someone. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was an adult who was completely capable of thinking for herself and making her own decisions. She didn’t need her father to tell her want to do anymore, so why he thought he was still able to was astonishing.
“Babe?” Happy’s voice sounded through the house, reaching Y/N in the kitchen and breaking her from her thoughts. However, she did not respond to him scared that if she did she would end up crying or screaming.
“Baby,” he tried one more time as he stepped foot into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw Y/N leaning against her countertop with her eyes closed, practically shaking. As he moved into the kitchen Y/N didn’t react to her boyfriend, not until he was directly in front of her and pulling her into his arms.
“Why does he have to be such an ass?” Y/N mumbled into Happy’s chest as she wrapped her own arms around Happy’s torso.
“Because he wants what is best for his baby girl.” Happy rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s back as she tightened her arms around him. “And I’m not that.”
Y/N looked up at Happy with wet eyes, the fear of him breaking up with her running through her mind, “But you are Hap, you’re the best guy I could ever ask for even if you are a little rough around the edges.”
Happy cracked a small smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did he thought to himself that they were going to be okay, the two of them would get through this and Chibs would pull his head out of his ass eventually.
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spacedikut · 4 years ago
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everything is green ; aaron hotchner
pairing: aaron hotchner (criminal minds) x f!reader
summary:  “I know it seens a little unlikely, but can you write a jealous Hotch imagine for me? Something adorable with this grumpy baby, because he's SO PRETTY when he smiles 😍 Like him kissing the reader untill she forgets her name in the end 🥰 Just an idea, write whatever you want 😘” 1743 words
a/n: ohhhhhh boy jealous hotch is Not unlikely i just think he’s better at hiding it than anyone else on this planet ;-) oh and Y/L/N means your last name! 
masterlist
There’s a deep furrow to Aaron’s eyebrows. Deeper than usual, at least, and Rossi notices the second he steps back into the precinct after visiting the latest crime scene.
“What’s got you all pouty?” He asks with a teasing lilt, thumbs tucked into his back pockets.
Hotch jolts out of the stupor he was in, blinking as he registers his surroundings.
He chooses to ignore Rossi’s question, “What did you find at the scene?”
Now invested because Hotch doesn’t ignore direct questions, Rossi merely raises his eyebrows and decides okay, we’ll play it that way, Hotchner.
+++
“Hotch is being grumpier than usual and it is driving me insane.”
Penelope’s angelic voice is a beautiful escape from the bustling sounds of New York. It truly is the city that never sleeps, and when there’s a killer on the loose, nothing changes except there’s a little more blood on the streets.
“Y/N-“ Penelope calls, directly calling you out, “Can you sort your man out, please?”
You glance over your shoulder, standing before the evidence board next to Reid, “What’s he doing?”
“I don’t even get a hello anymore! It’s all,” She lowers her voice to mock her boss, “Garcia, I need this. Bye. And don’t even get me started on when we video call, that man has his eyebrows halfway down his face and, yes, that is extreme for even the Aaron Hotchner.”
“You know,” Rossi comments, leaning back in his chair, “He looked awfully forlorn when we got back earlier. Something going on, Y/N?”
“He always looks forlorn. That’s his face.”
There’s chuckles at your comment. But your interest is piqued – is something wrong with Aaron? Surely he’d tell you, right?
The case has been a busy one – are they ever not busy? – and since you specialise in linguistics and the unsub has an affinity for notes, you’ve spent most of your time with Reid and Blake. Combine that with the lack of sleep and free time, you haven’t really seen Aaron all that much.
So is something going on?
You don’t have time to ponder. There’s victims to worry about.
+++
“So, Agent Y/L/N,”
You will admit, Detective Gray has a certain… swagger to him. Reminds you of Derek.
“You ever been to New York before?”
If you were still in college, you’d swoon over his accent. That New York twang.. does things for you.
But you’ve got a very handsome unit chief who treats you so well, and you’ve only got eyes for him. You can’t stop thinking about him, in fact. You haven’t kissed him in nearly twenty-four hours.
It’s barbaric. Cruel.
God, where is he? Can you kiss him right now?
On the other side of the room, Rossi and JJ watch you stir your tea as you and the detective talk. They don’t miss the faraway look in your eyes, and they certainly don’t miss the interested look in the detective’s eyes. There’s two very different understandings of the conversation, they’re sure.
Hotch walks over, blissfully unaware, and is about to make small-talk when he notices the direction of his team member’s gazes. He follows, and that same frown from earlier appears – Rossi just catches it.
“Have you met Detective Gray, Aaron?” Rossi stares.
“I have.. spoken to him, yes. He’s a good detective.”
Rossi and JJ share a look.
Times like these, they’re so glad to be profilers. There are very few people that read Aaron Hotchner like a book, you’re the perfect example, but the one time JJ and various other members of the team have felt like real profilers is when Hotch has done something, maybe an eye twitch or when his left eyebrow rises just a little, and they immediately go Oh! That’s a tell!
And they get giddy, before remembering they’re professionals and he is their boss.
JJ smirks and raises her eyebrows, “Yeah, he’s a real good detective.”
Hotch’s eyes narrow for half a second before he excuses himself.
+++
It’s Hotch’s fault, really. So why should he be annoyed? Flustered? Jealous?
God, if you even thought for a second that he was jealous he’d never hear the end of it.
He was the one that told you to go with Derek to the M.E., and that an officer was there waiting. That officer was Detective Gray, who has seemed to take quite the liking to you.
Hotch can’t blame him. You won him over, even though he tried to resist. You’re irresistible and it’s infuriating sometimes.
So when Hotch sees a moment to finally get some alone time with you, albeit on the clock and en route to speak to a witness, he grasps it firmly in his wonderful hands and tries not to beam like a little kid on Christmas when you approach the SUV.
“Well hello, Agent Hotchner,” You greet, hopping into the passenger seat.
“Agent Y/L/N,” He nods.
There’s a quick case recap for the first few minutes, throwing in a few personal theories and guesses on what you expect when you arrive at the witness’s house, but when that dies out the two of you are left with silence, which isn’t uncomfortable or uncommon. But you have to ask.
“There’s rumours being spread about you, you know.”
Hotch hmphs, hands tightening on the wheel, “There’s always rumours about me.”
“Oh?” You tease, eyebrow raising, “So you admit you’re popular?”
He doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t react. Doesn’t even do that thing you find absurdly attractive – when he lifts an eyebrow and gives a half smile that isn’t really a smile but it still lights up his eyes.
He looks more stoic than usual, staring straight ahead with calculating eyes. Originally, you thought he was overly focussed on the case, a confusing victimology combined with a police department reluctant to help will do that to you, but now… maybe the teasing from the team has some truth to it.
It’s silent the rest of the way. Even when you ask about possible dinner plans for when you get home, Hotch replies, “I think it’d be best if we focused on the case. For now.”
You bite your tongue and agree.
+++
Remember Grumpy Cat?
A month into dating, Hotch revealed he’s aware it’s Garcia’s nickname for him. It’s sort of an inside joke between the two of you, and that year for his birthday he received a birthday card from you with said cat on the front.
(There was a sweet message inside, too, that Hotch still carries with him years later)
Now, as he’s sat next to you on the way back to the police department, he is a mirror image of the disgruntled face of the famed cat. If the situation was different, i.e. he wasn’t giving you the cold shoulder, you’d have a camera in his face and Garcia would have a new contact picture for him.
When he pulls into the department parking lot and goes to jump out, you stop him with an, “Aaron.”
You never really call him Aaron during cases. It doesn’t feel right.
He sits back in his seat and you look at him.
When he sees you try to stifle a laugh, he rolls his eyes.
“It’s not funny.”
You purse your lips, smothering a grin, “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to.” Even though he’s looking forward at the wall, you notice a little quirk on one side of his mouth.
“So it’s true, then?” You ask.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You jokingly shove his shoulder and he finally directs his gaze to you. “You know what I’m talking about. You’re extra grumpy today.”
“I haven’t slept in a while.”
“So it has nothing to do with you being jealous of Detective Gray?”
Hotch releases a deep breath, his whole body deflating with it.  That tells you everything you need to know.
“Wow,” You say, “Aaron Hotchner jealous? In this day and age? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“No.” He butts in, “I was observing and concluded he was too close and too interested in you, given that we’re here trying to save lives.”
“Right,” You hum, “Sounds jealous to me.”
Hotch can’t pretend he’s angry when you look at him like you do, this teasing lilt to your voice and the ceaseless softness in your eyes.
“Maybe I was a little jealous.” He admits, a murmur that is spoken out of the side of his mouth that becomes a smirk.
“Aha!” You laugh, “I knew it! And Rossi and JJ know it, too.”
Hotch can’t help the groan that leaves him at the reminder. Of course they know. They’ve looked smug for days, and no one on this forsaken team looks smug unless they’ve encountered some juicy gossip.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch sees you lean over the centre console and rest there on your elbows. His head turns and faces you, to which you pucker your lips and wait patiently for him to move closer.
Aaron looks especially smitten when his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and up again, closing his own to kiss you in the privacy of the SUV. He plans it to be chaste, a simple reminder that you are his and he is yours and you don’t need to worry about anyone else, but you have other ideas when he moves back and you follow him, kissing him repeatedly.
Your lips almost bounce off his a couple times, coming back a few centimetres just to go back in and kiss him again and again. Hotch gets frustrated, large hands coming to hold your face in place as he really kisses you, gently but passionately moving his lips against yours as his heart hums in his chest.
“This is highly inappropriate,” He breathes, when the lack of air becomes too much.
You glance around, the parking lot is dimly lit and you’re in the far corner of a higher floor. “I think we’re okay.”
The cheeky grin on your face is reciprocated by the love of your life, and he’s quite happy to continue where you left off when you move in again, your hands resting on his chest contently.
Both of you get a text simultaneously. It’s Rossi.
You’ve been gone a while. Either the lover’s quarrel got out of hand or you’re making up – and I don’t want details – but people are asking for you. Please return and look presentable ASAP.
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dylanxmin · 4 years ago
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nobody does it like you do∣ k.nj
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this work made for valentine’s day and there is a masterlist where a couple of writers came together to write for the sprit of the valentin’s day. please check the masterlist, and give lots of love to each work !  ♡ ♡
bangtan pastries ; valentine’s mlist
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you didn’t fall in love with kim namjoon at the first sight, or he didn’t look anything sweet in the metal cage, but out of the ring, he was the sweetest, kindest one you can meet. Day by day, you fell in love and after two years, he decided to be the cheesy lover. 
OR to cringe you in and out on the valentine days.
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pairing; fighter!namjoon x female!reader
genre; cheesy romance, smut, light angst(very very light dark atmosphere,oops:), established relationship, valentine au, pwp?,,
rating; m +18
warnings; mention of blood(as nj is a fighter:), mention of sex, kinda toxic but not toxic relationship(they just way too in love:), cage fighting, mention of yoonmin(and they have daddy issues:), mention of crossdressing, namjoon is totally an exhibitionist(but not gonna happen), a couple of curse words, Valentine's Day cliches(of course, duhh!), master - pet kink, bdsm motives, bondage, shibari(?), dom namjoon, sub reader, oral (f), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, begging, dirty talk, pain kink, humiliation kink, degradation, choking, biting, marking, hair pulling, rough sex, messy sex, unprotected sex(u know what not to do:), ig reader has a thing for namjoon’s hands but yeah,,,
word count; 11.4k 
a/n; heyyy, happy late valentine’s???,,, well, i have lots of complicated thoughts on this one ‘cuz my mind and my muse had a big fight on this fic. One of them wanted it to be very, very dark while the other decide it would be too much(you should guess which one wanted it to be dark and which didn’t)... so ion know if this come out as dark or light? maybe in between? hopefully? Plus, smut took me ages to write, as it clear, I can’t write smut now. Yeah, tea is out ! lol. a n y w a y s.... hope you will enjoy reading it? PLS mind the warnings guys, ion want you to feel uncomfortable,, soo, enjoy it xx  ♡
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             ‘‘Listen to your heart when he's calling for you
                 Listen to your heart, there's nothing else you can do’’
The question starts with a wrong turn at the top. Not ‘why?’. It should be ‘how?’. Would be more fitting, more understandable. 
How did you fall in love with him? 
Yes, you. How exactly did you fall in love with the man you called the love of your life?
Because he was a fine looking man? He was tall? Got a sense of fashion? He was hot, maybe? 
No. You fall in love because he has everything you want. Everything you need. And also more. Even more. 
It was the way the dark pupils lost behind the curl of his eyelids in a good laugh. Sugar skin dips down to force out the cute little holes, the dimples. Or the apricots, you called them mostly. 
Maybe you fell in love because you were jealous of the way he loved, cared for his plants and simply wanted to take their place in his heart. Or, he was so caring that he could still love watering his plants, talking to them while loving you crazy. Sending you to the moon before you can understand the lackness of your weights, the easiness of your heart, he would take you back. Land you gently as ever.  
Not knowing for sure, but you may also have fallen in love with him when he rented the second bike for you, so you could go to the mountains with him. Or when he had read the book you mention out of the context, without even paying attention that you couldn’t even remember when he said he read it in three days. 
Maybe it had happened because he gave you a soda when he took it for himself, or the one time he had chosen to stay with you rather than going out with his friend because you weren’t feeling well enough. Maybe-
When the killer hands for his opponent tangled above your skin so carefully that it felt like a feather, it may be the reason. The same hands that bloomed scarlet stains bake the most beautiful, heavenly pastries for you to lose in the taste, you may or may not fall in love. 
But-
You could say countless examples and it wouldn’t be enough as it didn’t happen in one night, or because of a thing. Just simply as ever, you, fell in love with the most dangerous - as well as the softest - man in Korea. 
The ruthless, mellow, the raptorial, thoughtful, destructive fighter one can ever see in a lifetime. 
Brightest man in the fighting industry. The idol of the young ones. 
The Chopper. 
Your lover. Everything you want. And more. 
Kim Namjoon. 
The darkest night and the brightest star at the same time. Every nightmare, every heavenly dream he was able to be at the same time but now, inside the metal cage, he chose to be the first one. To be his opponent’s nightmare as the constant strikes didn’t stop, continued to smash on the skin of the man who was looking almost at the same age as your lover, something was cracking. 
Stage surrounded by the crowd, acclaimings, a chain of the name of your lover’s attached to the lips of the audience, he was feeding by it. As it was obvious by the curl of his mouth, back muscles going lack and strains again with every syllable of his name. 
Opposite to the others, you were silent. Tongue-tied, mostly. 
Not because you are afraid of the crimson on his hand, or the light of something inhuman deep inside of his eyes. You were muted against the glory he held around himself. The way he owned everything and everyone in there, you as well. Sun-kissed skin glowing with victory sweats, and more, the bell ringed. 
Once, twice, and three times. 
Bell of the Chopper’s victory call. And everyone going crazy behind you, beside you, in front of you, you continued to watch your lover. Muted. Frozen. Swollen with pride. Couldn’t even take your phone to stick this moment into eternity, even though you want to have this moment in your pocket. Your lover’s arm on the air, fist tight enough to break a neck, smile of his proud beamed on his face. Daunting glares melt the moment they land on yours, melting into something you may call affection. 
Maybe a bit of bashfulness, as well. 
But then, the familiar sweet apricots come to light, and the ice that holds you still breaks into million pieces. And you smile back, eyes heavy with unshed tears. Chest fluttering as the effect of seeing his dimples never, ever fades away. Starting to clap one palm to the other, ease takes over. Relief gives your air back in your lungs after you realize there is nothing to be afraid of. He, your lover, the Chopper, Kim Namjoon won the fight and he is safe now. There is no harm he could get. 
So, that means you can turn your back, and leave the crowd behind to wait for him in the locker room for him to get done with all the things he has to. Such as taking photos, talking with his boss, and filling his pocket with money. Shortly, the thing you don’t want to be included, so you pushed the iron door to get inside the to-be-empty room but clearly it wasn’t and you stop at the entrance like a deer in the headlights. 
Obviously, you weren’t expecting two shirtless men to eat each other’s face, but the loud thug of the door broke their sessions while two pairs of eyes turned over you. Shallow breaths, pink glowing cheeks, you must say that they looked adorable. 
‘‘Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess?’’ biting your lips to prevent any sort of voice from coming out, the face eaters’ smiles burned bright, like the pink horizon on their cheeks. One of them waved at you from afar, and you returned the act.  
The one with mint neon hair sat on the bench, brushing his hair back before greeting you. ‘‘I assume Namjoon won as you are not crying or screaming your lungs out?’’ 
‘‘Maybe you can be a little lighter than that, hyung.’’ even though the other tried to hide away the bluntless of the older, you snorted. He didn’t say anything wrong, though. 
Waving a hand, you open the locker of Namjoon to get his things to leave here quicker. ‘‘It’s okay Jimin-ah. I know Yoongi enough not to be bothered by him, and he is kinda right. I did cry and scream a lot when Namjoon lost a fight, so..’’ your smile and shake of your shoulder gave the younger boy relief as he moved further to settle beside you. Eyes beaming bright, he was up to say something. 
Probably something he shouldn’t. 
‘‘You gonna beat his ass, don’t you?’’ to-be whisper words coming out of the orange haired boy right beside, the older’s scoff towered behind you two. ‘‘As he took you to his match on Valentine’s Day. You must be angry.’’ 
Placing the big bag on the bench, beside Yoongi, you shake your head with a smile stuck on your mouth. While placing the cloths and couple of wires in the bag, you began. ‘‘Well, this is not the best way to be in on such a day but I’m not mad. I would be if he hadn’t won the match, but I’m not right now. Plus, are you mad at him because he took you to his match?’’ 
Before answering, Jimin leaned and put a not so light kiss to his boyfriend’s lip. Or his kinda boyfriend’s lips? You didn’t know, they were kind of weird about the whole relationship thing they had. For the last two years of your life, they were in an on-again, off-again relationship and this mainly caused Yoongi's fear of coming out by his closet. The very oh so famous businessman father of course wouldn’t let his son go all around the city with a man who had the most beautiful face that his highly known friends could see around his son’s arms, and god forbid Jimin sometimes wears so mini shorts and skirts that could get the said man have ultimate heart attacks. Mr. Min’s fear was probably beyond what you could think, and that’s why Yoongi never was able to come out and act the way his heart wanted. His father holds so much power in his palms. And Jimin sometimes was okay with this, and sometimes it was the opposite. So that’s why you weren’t so sure if this was a relationship right now. It was something, something cute, funny, deadly and very, very destructive. But something. 
‘‘He’ll watch mine after his so, it’s okay.’’ his giggle alarming yours, you both voiced out soft laughs to the air of the room. After a couple of words exchanging, the iron door opened without a crack or a force like it weighing nothing, and you know, who was behind it. And the idea flapped your stomach before even seeing his face. Even after two years, you still haven’t built up immunity to seeing him with bruises. 
Probably he had very few, but still. It played with your stomach. 
Though, it wasn’t easier being far away from him only to not see his bruises, marks that were left behind after the momentarily act of violence. The need was immediate after the ring bell. The need where you only want to hold him between your arms, protect him as much as you can from any kind of danger, and even though you weren’t built for that, he would let you to cover him for protection. Let you play your little game in your mind if that means you were happy. But the cruel pain would still affect you as seeing his skin blooming purples and reds never been an easy thing. Of course, only on him. 
Of course, the man that you had no idea about the name he had or the age he’s in, didn’t bother you. Not in the past, or the moments ago. It only fascinated you. A grand sample of the power Kim Namjoon has had in him. A staggering but not a bad reminder of your lover’s impact. 
‘‘Ready to see me, Moonlight?’’ the honey sound coming from deep in his throat, it’s enough to shake your breath. Torturing the skin above your bottom lip, you made the choice of turning your face to him, and the ache was rapid to crawl and sit heavy on your chest. 
He opened his arms to guard you from the acidic pain you will have all around your skin, you run right into the giant embrace. But, acid still manages to boil the poor skin. Whether in his embrace or not. It was just a tiny bit more comfortable way to burn in agony. Even though knowing the man who lost the fight was probably too damaged to get another strike, you just wanted to land a punch to his rival. 
Again, again, again, again, and yes, again-
‘‘Shh… you know I’m okay, right? I won. We won, Moonlight. Look at me.’’ swelled fingers lifting the chin, glossy eyes reflected from his. Every muscle working so hard not to cry, almost purple ish, slightly open wound on the corner of his lips didn’t help much. Cheekbone throbbing below the fingertips you covered on his face, you stand on your fingertips to smack a kiss. No word would be enough for you to soothe you both, more likely yourself. 
Or maybe, your voice would crack so hard that you wouldn’t be able to hold the persistent tears anymore and would cry out loud. Which you weren’t sure if that was a bad thing. 
‘‘Does… Does it hurt?’’ voice coming out raucously, you sniffed. Croons of his pupils curl so caringly as Namjoon’s heart is way too soft for your red buttoned nose. Too much for the image he holds. Smile creeping up with a morning sun swiftness, the warmness it spread is fast. Almost sweet as the first light of the first summer day, it heals you from inside a bit. Then, Namjoon shakes his head, leans a bit to capture you in a world lifting kiss like there is no one. Open-mouthed, saliva mixing under the sweet taste, your heart purrs as you receive the source of your addiction. His kiss, and the chubby lips were indeed addicting. 
Behind the fake coughs, you pull away as the last piece of air left your lungs. Space full of loud panting, staring continued. 
‘‘You see, I am great. Nothing hurts, unless you start to cry and leave me aching.’’ snort drawn out by you, Namjoon frowns as he is offended. You open your mouth to say something, but the older of the room forestalls. 
‘‘Okay, love birds. Shall we give you some privacy or can you lead this sticky sickness somewhere else?’’ Both of you focus on the man who speaks by turning your heads at him. He still stands half naked in the room, his body looks a bit red as he warmed his muscles before his fight. And they still hang broad and visible. 
But the reply won’t come from you or Namjoon-
‘‘Sickness? You were humping my leg minutes ago.’’ Jimin spats, vein throbbing ferociously on the side of his neck. 
‘‘That was different, they-’’ 
‘‘Different my ass!’’ orange hair sways from one way to the other, Jimin knits his brow. ‘‘You are only disgusted because they are in a committed relationship and your feckless ass can’t do that.’’ 
The mood change was so sudden that the smile on the corner of your lips faded so late. No one, especially Yoongi wasn’t waiting for this as his mouth parts, voiced breath drawn out. He just blinks and watches as Jimin throws a tee over his naked body, and furiously leaves the room by your side as murmuring a faint ‘sorry’. It has Yoongi stand stock-still for a couple of minutes before he goes after Jimin, running and yelling his name. 
As you said before, they were something. Something your mind couldn’t catch the mood swings. Happy for one minute, a total disaster the next. 
‘‘He’s gonna have his ass sore in the night.’’ against Namjoon’s bluntless, you punch his shoulder out of reflex. And he laughs. 
‘‘Okay, okay. Not saying anything.’’ his hand hangs on the air, a dark shade washes over his eyes as his smile turns wicked from sweet. And you know what just possessed him. Both because the familiar smirk, and being captured between him and the cold lockers. ‘‘Or, would you want your ass sore instead?’’ 
His light brown locks messed with the darker ones, forehead covered by a couple of them, he hovered over you. Breath hitching around the throat, him jamming you to the locked with his huge, muscled fighter body has you warm. A little bit too hot as you gulp loudly, nasty grin grows more. And you want it. Want him to smash you right on the cold metal and make you sore everywhere but someone could walk in. Just the same as you did to your friends. 
‘‘What’s wrong, Moonlight? Don’t you want to celebrate?’’ index finger on your cheek wondrously shakes you inside and out. Each draw of the slender skin has you gasping because that’s all you can over him. ‘‘Not so happy over our win?’’ 
A smile comes out in your breath, you shake your head while his leg finds a way between your legs. ‘‘Not- not because of that. Someone… someone might come-’’ 
‘‘And that would be a bad thing?’’ 
Lips parts, closes and parts again. Brush of his fat thigh on your skin feels too much, you blurt out a moan before you get your head together. The moment you saw him without any cover over his upper half on the cage, you wanted to have his way with you. The need was burning by the start of the night, every punch, every loud growl had been making it grow bigger and bigger and you were pulsing on the down below. If he had his way with you, you could even forget the fact that he had a fight on Valentine’s Day, but the side of your brain, the consciousness place was screaming otherwise. Not that you ever listened to it.  
Namjoon kissed again. 
It was only understandable of you to give in. As he is the Kim Namjoon, the one who knew so well about taking whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter if it’s a fight, a place he wanted to get in, or you. He will get whatever he wants, and whenever. The taste on his tongue dancing sweet and thick down yours, you’d gladly stand defenceless. What can one do? He wanted it, and he got it. 
Kiss longs enough to choke you both, though he looks way unfazed comparing you, it broke apart. ‘‘This- this is not how I imagined spending Valentine’s with you.’’ chest heaving, you put your hands on his broad chest in case he tries to lean in. Not that it’ll affect him much, but… 
Namjoon’s brow knits while the ghost of his smirk wanders wide around his mouth. ‘‘Exactly. We need to do it, it’s Valentine’s Day-’’ he exclaims but you cut him immediately. 
‘‘Not in an ugly basement of some cage fighting thing going on!’’ 
He rolls his eyes with curled lips. ‘‘Like it would be the first time.’’ and you punch him this time. Hard enough to hurt because he deserved it. He laughs, claiming it’s only a joke and lands another but quick kiss. ‘‘Let me get clean and we can get out of here, okay? I may or may not have some plans.’’ then he won’t speak for feeling like eternity to you. No matter how many times you ask or whine what his plans are, he continues to hum the same song. He showers, the same hum on his lips, he changes into clean clothes while it still lingers. 
It is true that waiting sucks. It even more when the man you love so much keeps you waiting. You play with your phone until he is done with whatever he is doing, give some breaks only to huff and puff occasionally as both missing and curiosity fills too much of you. You know it’s not much as you both don’t like to be so fancy over anything, and don’t have so much to spend too. But whatever it is, it’ll make you so happy and thrilled because spending time with him always has you ecstatic. You were ecstatic the first time you saw him and have been till today. 
All the previous protests you held against your friend’s request of going to a cage fighting night had died the moment your eyes landed on him. Opposite to what Jungkook thought about you being petrified because of fear of all the bone crashing sounds, blood and violence, you weren’t. 
It was epiphany.  
Coming to a realization of the evil indeed could look beautiful, mesmerizing. Shouldn’t have been surprised so much as the evil itself is an angel, fallen or not. And it looked glorious in the cage, hiding under the skin of pink haired - brown locks were once pink and had undercut. - man who was beating the shit out of his rival in the cage. If he had that face when he lurked in the blood of the first one’s, you wouldn’t blame them for getting kicked out of the gates of heaven. It’s only natural to obey him, fooled by him. 
Even that moment, you knew he was everything. You knew you had to be with him, somehow. You craved his sweat covered body, his sinful fingers, parted lips to close them sweetly. 
His rage, his laser eyes, his flames-
The lust came before love, but they got along well. Falling in love felt like falling from the sky, and you were glad that you could understand how he felt years ago. The obscurity of it was terrifying, yet the thrill still beamed high. 
You were intoxicated by him, soothed by the tasty nectar of his apple. You were in love with him. And you were more than ready to be dismissed. 
‘‘Daydreaming again?’’ the man in his not so tight black jeans, matching boots and nothing more is now standing an arm length away, remains of shower still alive as his muscles and tattoos gleaming with the water drops. Air hitching around your throat, his smile beamed while he was busy drying his hair by a towel. ‘‘Bet you were thinking about me and what my plans are.’’ 
‘‘Cocky aren’t we?’’ a throaty laugh was his answer at your eye roll, a kiss you barely felt licked against your temple before he disappeared again to get fully clothed. A little bit of lying wouldn’t hurt him, but the truth about you thinking him twenty-four-seven would damage your pride so it was okay. Namjoon would not mind it, anyway. 
                                                                                                       ⋅*⋆ ♥ ⋅*⋰*⋅ ♥ ⋅*⋆ ⋅
The ride back home was a bit tough both for you two. Maybe more for him but if he wanted he could easily ease down your endless questions, but fortunately for both he didn’t. He hummed every question with a completely blank face, and chose to drive you wild. 
‘‘This is our way back home. We are going home?’’ 
A hum.
‘‘Are we going to the pub in the corner of our street? What was it, Bailey’s?’’ 
Another hum. 
‘‘You are not gonna tell me aren't’ you? This sucks, waiting sucks, you suck!’’ 
And there is the fucking hum and the laugh. He laughed at you like you were the one who acts hilarious. For the whole ride - and it was nothing more than twenty minutes but it felt like it - he hummed and laughed. Most of the questions were welcomed by silence, and the others died around your throat before even voiced out as well as your enthusiasm. Knowing he was doing this on purpose didn’t stop you from falling right into his game. Rather, you stuck in the middle of it and the struggle for going out pulled you even more. 
As they said, once you’re in the spider web, you fucked up. 
Well, you didn’t know who said it but it was true as you couldn’t get out of the bog of question and unknown. A nature you could call it, your curse. Being the absolute form full of curiosity and undying grudge you hold when you wouldn’t be able to get what you want. Maybe a bit spoiled as the other always called you, it never bothered you. What’s wrong with being a bit spoiled as long as you have what you wanted and didn’t hurt anyone? Well, at least the damages were not bad.
‘‘Home sweet home, huh? Hop off now.’’ it was direct when he stopped the engine of the car. Though, not rude. Namjoon could never be rude, and you know it better than anyone. Maybe he is in the cage, but that’s only natural. Cage was for animals, and he was one inside of the worn out metal. 
And again, you were angry. ‘‘Why didn’t you tell me I guessed it right at the head of the ride. I could have suffered less, you know.’’ and you had all right to feel your blood raging inside your veins, jumping right and left. Slamming the ages old car’s door without having mercy on it, you act before him and hurried your steps into your apartment. One hand searching the bag for the now lost keys. Of course, you weren’t just angry because you were going to spend the night in your house, you loved being at home with him. You were half-serious, half-acting your rage as a revenge. 
‘‘Woah, now don’t take our anger out of my girl, huh. What do you say?’’ he was coming back at you, grin hide away. Namjoon always adored how you were the literal ball of anger. Looking from out, everyone could easily misperceive who was in the charge in this relationship, but when you were all alone with your demons lurking free, he was always too eager to bend the knee. 
Maybe he didn’t have to work hard to get you at first, as you were already too deep in him. Yet, he knew. He knew that he'd chase you until the end of the world and beyond only to be with you more. To be close to you. To be yours. 
He shamelessly eyed the shape of your hips while you were climbing the stairs, as it’d be dumb not to. Outraged echoes of your mud covered boots beaming all around the walls, he bite his lip hard. It was a shame not to just have you right here, right now, where everyone could easily see. Maybe another time-
Now, your reaction is more important for him, so he waits while you fight with your purse to find the key, opening the door of your shared apartment, and then stopping instantly. 
As the night only allows you to see so little thanks to the light that echoed by the street, your body leans on the other sense you had. The smell that you shouldn’t smell tangles around your nostrils, magically the taste finds a way to bloom above your tongue, watering all over your mouth and you turn your head at Namjoon who is not sharing the same confusion with you. Rather, he was smiling with brows lifted high. And it only lead you to think-
‘‘What did you do?’’ he laughed at you as waiting this reaction, pushing you inside to close the door behind you and him. 
When the lights on he whispers behind your ear, way too delighted. ‘‘What does it look like?’’ 
And then, they were the things that shouldn’t be in your living room. The not so big clothed table, having lots of ornate belongings that didn't belong to you. Black covering above the white table cloth, there were so many forks, spoons that you would never use. The combination of red roses and black candles made you sick on the stomach as you stood there, mouth hanging open, literal disgust in your feature. 
Turning your head once again, you faced the man who was biting his smile, hiding it behind a thin line. ‘‘What do you think?’’ he asks, although knowing the answer very well, Namjoon needs to hear it from your lips. The delight was shrouded under it. And before you can utter an answer, you give one look to the table, and then your lover’s expecting face. Words loading to your closed mouth, you pushed them to the air rather than swallowing down. 
‘‘It’s hideous, I loved it!’’ 
Running in the middle of the room to examine the table better, Namjoon follows from behind, a laughter on his throat. From up close, it looked even worse. The absolute cliche you never grew liking. But you loved it because it was also not fitting with the man who Namjoon was and it made all these things amusing. Yes, he was kind, caring and a romantic without acknowledging it but never like this. More likely, he would do things without any romantic motive in them and that's exactly the reason you fell in love with him. He never bought you roses, but you were growing so many plants that one can call it a garden. He never took you out to a fancy place for dinner or never, ever made a table like that but he did cook the best food you ever had in your life. 
As the room filled with the tasty smell of something, you were going to turn back to ask what was the cause of it but the broad weight capturing you between the fat arms, your question melted away. 
Small, semi-wet touch of kisses painting your neck, you grabbed the head of some chair. Lashes flutter shut, you lean a bit back and bare your neck for more. ‘‘It smells so good. What is it?’’ barely whispered words coming out of you, Namjoon kissed the crook in the back of your neck, creating a deep purple before popping the skin off and clearing his throat. 
‘‘It’s something you would love to eat, but before-’’ the sound of his pocket continued after his word died, fingertips occupying you by the play on your stomach, the barrier of your shirt already passed. Flutter of your lashes, you lean back and wait rather than asking him what he was up to, or when he gathered these cheesy atmospheres. Namjoon chose to not rush anything, taking his phone from his pocket, steadily, unrushed. As he had already prepared it, he only had to touch the play button and the music filled the room. 
‘‘Oh- NO!’’ the flip of your stomach was funny as the laugh popped out as a reflex. Familiar melody echoing through the ice blue walls, your body moves with the man behind you, simultaneously. Following his steps while taking little right and left, tiny touches of his lips continued as he giggled with you. 
She's a little pirate in my mind.
‘‘You gotta be kidding me, right?’’ things have you surprised as they were highly odd, not expected from the man who never does anything this obvious. And plus, this isn’t being romantic in your language, this was being cheesy for both of you and you have had no idea why he was doing these all of a sudden. 
Give her all the love she gives to me. Rather than replying to you, he go alongs with the song. 
‘‘Never felt this love from anyone’’ Namjoon nudges at the side of your neck with the tip of his nose before talking - not mimicking the song this time -. ‘‘Remember the song, yet? It’s from the time where we first gathered on the bar, you were there with your friend, staring deep into my soul?’’ 
A man can never dream these kind of things
Especially when she came and spread her wings
Whispered in my ear the things I'd like
Surely you remembered the day he was talking about, how could you forget it while you did wait for that moment to come for feeling like a lifetime after you first saw him inside the cage. All that sweaty caramel skin had glowed in your dreams, the image of his tightened muscles left you leaking for so many nights. Therefore, you obviously remembered the day when Jungkook stalked him to find his favorite place so you two could act like you were always hanging there - which it worked -. There was no use pretending you weren’t captivated by him, so you did stare at him too much. Until he had noticed you, asked for your number, and fucked you on your bed, wall, kitchen… Poor Jungkook for hearing all of them, though, you learned that he used them for his own pleasure, so you guessed it was a win - win situation. 
‘‘Well, you know I get what I want, so…’’ the laugh coming rough, almost reminding a growl on your neck, he turned you over so you can meet him in the eye. Now, back rubbing one of the chairs, his long bony fingers already wrapped above your cheeks, you did the exact thing from the day. Stare deep in him. 
Side of his lips curled high, he wets his lips. ‘‘Hope you will have the same courage later in the night.’’ the eyes of him digs in you cold and greedy, your gulp sounds loud. It has him laughing, not so loud ‘hah’ presents his pearly teeth. ‘‘Before you, we have other things to eat.’’ 
                                             ⋅*⋆ ♥ ⋅*⋰*⋅ ♥ ⋅*⋆ ⋅
As Namjoon told you the details that you were very oblivious to, you learned that he got Jungkook’s help to decorate your apartment, all the cheesy atmosphere related to your sweet valentine just because you grumble behind his back that he wasn’t romantic enough, - even though you couldn’t remember when - and obviously, he wanted to punish you by doing this. Well, he didn’t call this as punishment but for you, it was because the romantic words, the whole decoration was too sweet for the souls you two had. 
‘‘It’s good that Jungkook helped you out while we were at your fight, but you know that he won’t help you with the cleaning, right?’’ like a lightning just struck on him, the pastry fell on the plate. His puppy digits grow wide, you find it beyond cute. 
‘‘Then it’s good news that I have the most caring girlfriend by my side?’’ the shake of your head wears his smile off, as he betrayed. He will think better next time before covering the whole floor with rose petals, now. And you hide your giggle behind the delicious pastry that he baked by filling your mouth with it, as his whines loud. ‘‘After all of these, I guess it’s too much to wait for a thank you in return.’’ 
Nodding, you take another bite. ‘‘Cream cheese mixes with the apricots way better than I thought.’’ he watches your struggle to lick the remains of the cream, so he leans and cleans the corner of your lips with his thumb. Brain freezes for a couple of minutes as his tongue curls around the thumb, leaving nothing behind. ‘‘Why- erm- why the apricot danish, though?’’ 
He leans closer, elbows rest on the table as the voluptuous eyes lure in you, stomach makes a funny flip at the way his stare goes between your eyes and the now chewed lips. Voice low and rough, it’s enough to have you clenching your walls. 
‘‘I wanted you to experience how it feels to eat me, as I always do the eating out.’’ unnecessarily bold words has you gasping, crumbles of the pastry goes to the wrong pipe and you almost choke. 
Wine nearly dries off when you clash the glass to your mouth, drinking it to ease the coughing. Namjoon watches all of these very calm, grin sneaky on his mouth. The back of his head was busy with what he prepared for later that night, in your bedroom. 
While you were still dizzy with the image of tonight's fighting, the duality he was showing was whirling your head, tongue feels lull, eyes burning from behind. And you loved how he makes you weak in and out. A toy at the end of his words. You pressed your thighs together to reduce the ache, and it barely helped. All you can think of is now his sweat glistening muscled back, your nails adding sweet crimsons to the palette, tongues ferociously devouring each other, breaths loud enough for your neighbour to hear as he takes you down-
‘‘S-so, you are the desert itself?’’ 
As the images flashing behind your head having you too hot, you had to cut it with blurting out the first thing that related to the topic but away enough to get you cold, again. Though, your voice did come out weird, high and distracted. 
Amusement tangled on the line of your boyfriend, his smirk only adds gasoline to your fire. And you visibly could see the reflection of the sharp edged flames by his eyes. To your liking, he didn’t force more and nods while explaining.
‘‘Well, you always refer to my dimples as apricots and we can agree that my personality kind of bittersweet as the cheese cream and when you mix them-’’ he abruptly stops and opens his hands in front of his face, resembling a blooming flower. ‘‘Voila! A complete pastry that you can enjoy.’’ Suspicious enough, his features change. As innocent as he can, he looks at you with wide, shining orbs and the man who teases you, almost chokes you down with his words now nowhere to be seen. Like he was never there at first. And this was exactly what was fucking you up every time his duality slips. Like he wasn’t the one who was breaking bones as they were chips, washing the scarlet down from his flesh, mounting behind you like he was the animal. Would growl, bite the thin skin over your neck so severely that it would bloom purple and yellow for the whole week and maybe more- 
This time, to capture your slipped attention, Namjoon had to wave his hand inches away from your blushed face. You had to swallow down hard as the cock of his brow openly, showing that he knew exactly what your dirty mind was busy with. And the tongue poking his cheek from inside always enough to have you drooling, as the air is getting thick and bothering you have to drink another sip of wine. 
‘‘Clear as glass, your mind can’t stop thinking what I can and will do to you. So, I want to make it obvious that at least one of us tried to be kind today.’’ the index finger pointing himself, he smiled one more time before his eyes went deep black. Shaking you in and out. And your mind wandered around the thought of you getting under the table just so you could hump on his leg as long as he lets you. But the tone of his coming words warned you before you can lose on the thought. ‘‘Now, I want you to go in there, and wait for me. That’s something you can do?’’ 
Behind your fluttering eyelids, your eyes trailed where his finger pointed, the mutual bedroom, and back his face. As the tone and the words enough for you to understand who was sitting in front of you now wasn’t just Namjoon. 
He was the Chopper. 
Merciless, brutal, bruising. 
The Chopper and his killer hands, choker fingers, cutting teeth. 
Everything you wanted and more. Everything you can’t even dream of. 
‘‘Y-yes. Yes, I can do that, Master.’’ the name enjoys the man, he feels proud that you can go into submissiveness even before he says much. In the end, he did train you for that, and he did it well because now, you are on your feet, walking further to the room he pointed by tripping over your shoe just once. 
It’s another whiplash for you to go into your room and find a black hook, secured to your ceiling after you turn the lights on. It wasn’t there before, was it? You’d have known if you had something like that on your ceiling because weird as ever, you stare there too much. Whether when you were overthinking or just dazed upon. Shaking your thoughts away, you forced yourself to focus on the hook again. Because obviously, it wasn’t the best time to think what you were doing in your seperate time as you had a fucking hook over your head, and a Master inside. 
‘‘That’s right.’’ well, he wasn’t sitting on the table inside like you guessed as his breath is tickling behind your ear. ‘‘I will hang you there, in the middle of our room, all tied up, helpless, and then-’’ with the connection of his skin on your sides, not so high from your hips, you shut your eyes and leaned back. He grabs your skin hard enough to draw a whimper, before continuing. ‘‘Eat your pretty cunt until you cry, overwhelmed. Then, gonna fuck you again, again and again, for you to cry even more. How that sounds, pet?’’ 
The last part putting chills all over your skin, you tremble under his embrace. Voice so controlled, husky, dizzying that your knees ready to give up just from that. Years after, the impact of his words never faded. 
‘‘Sounds… s-sounds good, Master. Sounds so good.’’ even though knowing you shouldn’t, your hands at your side, burns with the need of holding him close so you can brush your ass over his crotch to get a friction. It feels so empty, and that can push you into a stage where it drives you mad. ‘‘Please-’’
‘‘As a pet, don’t you think you talk too much even though no one asks you anything?’’ 
It hits as sharp as a whip to the gut, with the shame of making your Master angry, you feel like crying. But you only nod and utter certain words. ‘‘Yes, Master. I’m sorry.’’ 
Then, everything starts and goes so smoothly. The acts are unrushed, familiar, thrilling in a way that your stomach feels like a cheerleader and doing some flips over and over again. It even causes another rush of dizziness to you more. You’ve got used to feeling his hands on you, on the skin, so elegant yet enough to break, but against his smooth touch, the rope now covering your body, restrains your arms on your back in a very aesthetic way, has your heart fluttering its wings.  
His silent grunt reaches your ears weakly when he finishes with the last knot, and now you are bare as ever, helpless, and in his mercy. 
Before he talks, his kiss on the neck is full of lusciousness. ‘‘Just one last step, and then you will be my dessert for tonight.’’ nothing higher than a whisper, his words have you gasping. Nowhere on your body left unaffected by the sinister’s great word play. Behind your back, Namjoon’s eyes are going deeper and darker, stars glowing with lust in them, and you don’t need to see them to know it. Witnessing and memorizing the reactions, the actions of his body came at the same time with the hasty need you had for him, and it goes for both of you. 
So, when he finally finishes with you tied and hanged, you know his tongue rolled over his sharky-white teeth. 
‘‘Does anything bother you, baby? Something too tight, or loose maybe?’’ 
Safety is the thing Namjoon values much, even though you love it when he loses control and attacks you like an animal in bloodlust, you still stop and check yourself. Floor is a ghost for your toes, barely there for you to hold on to, everything seems fine when you try to escape, writhing in the trap of him, purposely trying to hurt yourself by the ropes but nothing hurts. At least nothing hurts that much because you like it when things hurt. Especially the thing standing behind your back, hovering over you, touch of his lips wet and affectionate on the flushed skin.  
Finally, Namjoon gets his answer. ‘‘Nothing hurts, Master. Thank you.’’ 
And he laughs at that. Not too much but enough to draw a sound between his teeth. ‘‘Always so good, so grateful to his Master, aren’t you little pet?’’ a tiny slap on your bare asscheek and you answer him with a breathy yes, master. 
Namjoon’s fingers move slowly, like in an exploration. First on your shoulders, nail drawing red where it touches, a thin line of tiny bruises. It goes all the way down from your shoulders to your hips, plays around the rope where it slightly covers your breast, capturing them in their own triangle shaped ropes. When he stops to draw circles inches high between your legs, you jerk your hips and that causes you to lose your balance. 
‘‘We are so responsive today.’’ he chuckles but it dies with the bite of his nails on the same spot as he positions you back. ‘‘So out of manners, can’t even stay still for Master. You are being useless like this, and I don’t like to play with a pet that has an empty skull. But you already know it, don’t you?’’ 
His nails are still digging your skin, it brings tears to your eyes and you nod. ‘‘I-I know, I’m sorry.’’ 
‘‘Apologizing won’t work if you continue to act like a ill-behaved toy.’’ to underline his anger, he lands another slap on your ass but this time it burns. And it takes all your effort to not writhe under it. 
‘‘I won’t do it again-’’ 
Another hit encourages your first tear to roll over to leave a wet trail on your face. Skin burning, itching, but all you feel is ecstasy to have more. To him, you shouldn’t enjoy it when he tries to punish you for not behaving right, but you can’t help it. Every strike, every killing hit brings shameless joy in you and you just can’t get enough. 
His octopus tattooed hand grabs over the bruised skin. ‘‘Are you enjoying this? Did I corrupt you that much, Puppy?’’ he snickers, teeth biting the flesh of your neck and you let your head rest on his shoulder. A similar smile tugs on your mouth, another tear goes down. 
‘‘I love it when Master hurts me. It feels too good.’’ 
Sounds sick, but there is no use of hiding the truth. Licking over the bite he gave you, Namjoon replies with the remain of his smile appearing on his words. ‘‘Oh, I know that baby. I know how you look stunning in red. All smiley with tears.’’ 
You giggle as his fingers go lower, playing with the skin of your slit. Though, you stay still. No matter how much it tickles when your blood rushes over there, even when his finger finds your needy clit. Already throbbing in bliss, you stay still. Though, even when he says you shouldn’t move, he likes to make a trembling mess out of you. Maybe it’s wrong to feel, but your tears give him unbearable joy. If the cry was caused by him, though. Otherwise, he could fuck up if someone even cause your lip to tremble which he proved that, many times. 
With hands tied up behind, you have too little mobility. Plus, your toes barely touch the floor, so even when he starts to rub your clit, you can only thrash as a response. Moaning after every rude circle, the heat was building fast and heavy in your stomach. Soft kisses on your neck turn into wet ones, and include his teeth. Available other hand goes up to hang around your breasts, toying around the now hardened buds, pulling when you least expect, and earning another choked moan. 
His very clothed body against your naked one creates a big contrast, a visible sample to show who is in charge, but you can feel how ready he is behind his clothes, his groin hard and furious as he rubs it on your hips with controlled movements. And every rub remanding how empty you are, his fingers above your clit making it even worse as it builds the sweet coil inside, inches high from your stomach. 
Pushing your hips back, you pleaded, voice all broken. ‘‘Feels.. feels so empty. P-please fill me, Master.’’ 
His fingers at your entrance, plays with your mind to believe he would push them in. You gasp as he just pushes his thick digits inches, mocks you with a laugh as he takes them back right away. 
‘‘Asking so cute and docile, yet you will feel that a bit more.’’ 
And you whine loud, not in a rebellious way but much like in need. Which, that is what you are, a needy mess as you were dreaming of him from the start of this day, seeing him half naked, angry, in an act of violence, drenched in sweat. Today was a torture, and Namjoon contunied the ruthless game. Rubbing, pulling, twisting every tender spot, your nipples, clit, inside your thighs, over your stomach. Every inch of you tortured, played by him, and it was going to continue as you heard a rustle behind you. His hands stopping on your thighs, he sighs. 
‘‘Fuck, my pet looks so tasty, all wet and ready.’’ your walls dripping, Namjoon licks his lips as the sight has him hungry. The pink skin nearly drooling in front of his sight, he was beyond ready to eat you, drink everything you give.
Like a starved man, on his knees, he takes a lick from you. The taste whirling his head, he growls, holding you tighter in his palms while you try to chase his tongue. Sob so agonized as it leaves your lips. 
But when his tongue finally finds the throbbing core, in relief and heat you let your head fall back. Wanting to clench your palms but the robes won’t let it as he tied some of your fingers, too, only to leave you more desperate. So you whine even more when his tongue pokes your insides, not entering but enough to shake your legs, swirl your head and to lose your breath into the room. Humiliating as ever, every swirl of his tongue pulls another cry, another tear, and his name the only thing that spills from your lips. 
Mind blinded by one thing. And it’s just The Chopper. 
His hot tongue. 
Tickling hair. 
Bruising hold.
Bite over your skin, here and there had you whimper repedately. The rich ardor boiling high, ready to explode as he circles, and circles, and circles his tongue over your clit- 
His lips lock around the frantic nub- 
And it causes you to lose yourself in the consuming delight, coming on his face as he starts to suck your clit. Toes curling, thighs trembling as the sharp euphoria boils in your veins, blood pumping faster as your eyes go behind your head. 
But Namjoon won’t stop until he catches every drip, sucking the spent bud, pushes you to the edge of overstimulation and your cries won’t work, either. 
‘‘Please, please, Master please,’’ is all you can say without even knowing what you were begging for. 
Which this is all you losing control more and more, limbs going weak, head dibs into the thick, blurry stage where the only thing you want is Namjoon. The only thing you need, the only thing you feel covered by him and you fell into the substage where he has you in his palm. To use it on behalf of both you and himself. To bring joy in your submissive brain with his domineering talks, touches, attacks. You were coming down from your first high, but already lost on the sensation where everything just started. The Chopper’s tongue cleaning the remains of your climax off your inner thighs, he gets on his feet after leaving two specific bruises, red and purple, by sucking the flesh hard and deep. 
‘‘I made you come but you still beg for more? One high isn’t enough for a slut like you, hm?’’ next, his fingers shove into your hair, pulling by the roots rough. ‘‘Nothing enough unless you have my cock in you, you greedy bitch.’’ 
Words nothing but like slaps landing on your face, your breath hitches under your moan. It should feel wrong to get off on hearing these, but the words throbs where you need the most. 
Fist to the gut, but the pain that comes with it is a bliss. 
Vulgar, yet caring your needs like a feather on the skin. 
Shady, vehement, maybe even tainted but you can’t stop loving that it cuts your heart and brings wings out of the wounds. It may be bleeding, but bandages have flowers on them. 
On your toes, it has all your effort but you manage to push your ass high, right on his crotch to tease, touches nothing more than a wind on the hair, you still giggle as he grunts and pulls your head back. The angle wicked as your neck looks like it’s going to give up, you whimper low by the pain. 
Sick smile still tugged on your mouth. ‘‘Yes, yes that’s true. Your pet is all empty, needy. Need you to mark her like you would mark your territory, Master. Your pet needs your cum on her.’’ maybe it is because of the words you just said, or the pout on your lips, Namjoon growls like an animal, hands grabbing every available flesh, pulling, clawing as he wants to tore your skin off and reach your soul to corrupt it visibly like he didn’t break you already. 
Then he bites down the skin between your neck and shoulder, enough to draw blood. 
‘‘My territory?’’ he spits. He sounds outraged, and even though you said things enough to get him angry, the shade of joy is still in his tone so you know he also likes how you provocate him. ‘‘Well, after all a pet should be treated the way it deserves.’’ 
Humiliation burns hot red, you squirms at the words. A need of holding on to something is increasing in you as after coming down by your high never stopped being tiring. With him, it’s like you feel everything ten times harder, deeper, and undoubtedly better. However, it only causes you to want more, never having enough of the things he gives. And you had a whole night to consume one another. 
When he talks, you see his reflection on your dressing mirror by the corner of your eyes. His hand ready above his belt, lewdness lingers on his smirk. And he looks gorgeous, hovering behind you, huge and sturdy. If you weren’t held by these ropes, your knees would give up many minutes ago. 
‘‘As we are animals tonight, shall we continue our hunt?’’ shaking you from head to toe, he truly looks like a predator with the gaze of a wolf, ready to eat you whole, make a feast out of you. Remains of your ecstasy shines when the light hits his face. A very graphic proof that he is out for hunting. Already captured his prey, and now there is only one thing left to do. 
To devour. 
As he finally releases his dick, it hangs angry and gigantic. The head in a deep red, shows how much he needs to come, it’s already wet, nearly dripping. In awe, and hunger, you watch him kicking his pants aside, taking everything off and leaving himself naked as you. With that, more of his tattoos reach your eyes as they go up and down. Sizing him up like you never see him, truly naked, looking like a partly completed palette with his body covered with so many colors. So many figures, numbers, blacks, reds, blues… 
Having so many things, he creates his noble singularity. Becoming a very special piece of his own. 
A mouth watering sight. All those muscles, buffy chest, eyes that have a hold of your soul, you leak even more. Though, he stays there, enjoys the way you watch him hungrily, as he strokes himself with slow moves. Eyes crossing each other’s paths on the mirror and he cocks a brow before letting his head fall back as he continues to stroke himself. 
His dimples out but from biting his lower, thinned lip and the taste of the pastry he baked blooms at once, covering all over your tongue as you want to dive it in his dimples, cover them wet with sloppy kisses. The thirst distinguishes itself once again. Murky and strong that you have to clench your walls, emptiness drives you mad more as he just continues to pleasuring himself while you literally hang from your ceiling, dirtying all over your carpet with how much you leak desperately. 
As expected, one low keen whimper by him is all it takes for you to let everything aside and submit to his merciless game. Fluttering like a fish on a net, you beg without holding nothing, tears streaming hot and fast. 
‘‘Namjoon, Master, please-... just please can you please fuck me? Please I need this, I need you, please?’’ 
‘‘Oh, was I too intense, maybe?’’ even though he asks as he worries, he still has that goddamn smile while placing himself behind you. Brush of his red skin to your damp pussy has you choke on your breath immediately. The loss of the contact affected you more than you realised and now having him so close feels just like heaven. Or hell. You didn’t care as long as he was there with you, to hold you close, kiss you sloppy, and fuck you like he hates you. 
Nothing mattered as long as you had him. 
Lips over your earlobe, you drip more right on his shaft between your legs. Pulse drums right over the skin where he touches you, teases you, like it’s all your body is waiting for. 
‘‘As you wished, now I will fuck you, darling.’’ teeth licking the skin with a faint press, his fingers go down to adjust himself. He fixes his bulge between the pink lips, not entering but it’s enough for him to rub his dick with what you were leaking, wetting himself to ease the act. 
But after every slow grind, your insides clenches with anticipation, waiting for the damaging push and the frustration grows more and more as you wiggle in his hold. It’s not a surprise how delirious you are just from not having him inside, as the need always wins with its whole glory over every other sense you have. Leaving you completely brainless when things come to the point where you are so desperate to have him in you that you would go on your knees and beg your lungs out for it. Of course, the sex is good, but with Namjoon it’s never only because of it. It’s the way you feel complete, leaving the worries behind and letting yourself completely at his hands. It’s always much better when you have nothing to decide because Namjoon will do that for you, like you couldn’t handle it, like your mind was too useless that he has to deal with everything, and will bring unbelievably severe pleasure with that- 
A sudden pull of his arms tears you away from your thinking. Your back hits his chest, hands settling on your hips as he starts to move further. Filling you full with one move, steady and unrushed. It takes him a couple minutes to fill you wholly as the length meets with your clenching walls inches and inches deeper. 
With every inch, he stretches you more, moans spilling as a mantra by your lips mixed with thank’s and broken Namjoon’s. Eyes rolled back, your heart goes insane in it’s cage, as the feeling of being finally full is the best thing that happens to you, tears of happiness go down one by one. 
Every nerve goes into a very brief shock after meeting with him, muscles strains and eases for a couple of times before he stops fully deep in you. 
‘‘Fuck! You feel so good, so soft, baby.’’ Namjoon hisses, waits only to feel you clenching and unclenching around him. Gives you a minute for you to adjust his length, not wanting to hurt you more than you need. Yet, you barely have a limit for that shit. Like a parrot who doesn’t know what to say other than ‘more’, you always end up repeating it. 
Without spending more time, when he convinces himself that you are ready and on edge from waiting as you cry nonstop for him to move, have his way with you, he does. A long, impelling push steals the breath you had in your lungs, pulling a croaked moan as he doubles his move. Slow rhythm of his stomach meeting with the swell of your ass, the sound of your soaked pussy reacting every push with a desperate squelch, you shut your eyes. 
Nails digging in your skin, it won’t take long for him to fasten. Unrushed grindings turn into famished jams as he shoves himself deep. Burning breath right behind your neck, he sucks the skin until it blooms red from the torment of his teeth, licks the throbbing flesh but not with intention to soothe. 
‘‘Look at you in the mirror, pet.’’ behind his clenched teeth, he commands. ‘‘See how spent...you... look. Just like a dirty cockslut you are,’’ every word coming after a rough pound, they are also as remorseless as his movements. Not giving you a minute to actually look at your reflection, and as much as you see, drool dripping by your lips, makeup ruined by tears, body all red and tormented, you really do look spent. Feel also as your limbs are still lazy after the first orgasm you had. But the rude push only excites you more, delicious high builds once more as every nerve wracking slam gets you wetter. 
Then, his hands leave your hips. One of them finds your throat, the other goes over your mouth, fingers dipping inside without permission. ‘‘Suck.’’ is all he says, harsh and demanding. And you do. 
Tongue curling around the two thick digits as it was his dick instead. Lips sucks hard while you circling your starved muscles around them. More you suck it, lapping your tongue around it, you drool more. Wet patch goes all over your chest from your throat, passing his hand around it. His pace not coming down even for a bit, digits leave your mouth and find your swollen nipple. 
Damp wrap brings chill over your torso, he pinches the poor skin as harsh as his slams. You howl, wiggle in his hold but he stops you with one wild squeeze on your throat. Cutting your breath as he continues assaulting your walls. 
‘‘This is what you’ve been waiting for the whole night, right pet?’’ you try to look at his face but all you see is a blurry sight as the tears won’t let more from that. Though, you are still able to see the way he moves fast. Fast and brutal. The sound of skin hitting skin smacks on the walls, deafens you. ‘‘Hanging around my cock because that’s the only thing you are good at. Being fucked by me, until you stand boneless, brainless, hm?’’ 
You open your mouth to give him an answer but fingers tightening around the darkening skin, only a strangled grunt leaves the lips. 
‘‘Sorry, couldn’t hear it.’’ he says with a wicked smile, biting his bottom lip as he quickens his moves. Hand only loosens when your face turns purple and coughs follow one another. When he lets you breathe, you cough even more as the air burns acidic in your lungs. His fingers pinching, pulling the aching nipples, hand heavy around your throat has you on alert, slams getting more and more deep, angled hitting right on the soft pooled nerves. You found yourself on the edge of another maddening rhapsody. 
Thighs trembling furiously, you try to close your palms mindlessly, clenching your walls around him as he growls low. 
‘‘’M gonna c-cum… S-shit, I-’’ 
Throat trapped in his palm once again, his fingers finds your swollen clit, his impale focused on your sweet spot, he pinches your clit, ‘‘Then cum. Drip all over my cock, slut.’’ he says, pushing you from the edge of the luscious high. 
And you find yourself thrashing, tears filling your mouth, yes, yes, yes’s irritating your own ears as the seventh heaven welcomes you from it’s door. It takes long for you to come from your high as Namjoon continues his brutal actions. Cutting your breath, fucking you merciless, biting down every spot he finds available. Your nerves locked, mind foggy and body tender to any kind of interaction, with three deep, hurtful smack after Namjoon spills white. 
Grunts by his lungs, he fucks his cum into you. Until overstimulation feels too much for himself, he doesn’t mind how loud you cry for him to stop. Because now, everything is beyond feeling sensitive. Every poke of his dick just puts hundred needles on your skin, as you hiccup, saying it’s too much. 
Then with one light smack, he stops. Panthing behind, he stays inside of you, arms covering your body tight in an affectionate embrace. He kisses your neck, down your shoulders, over every mark he left by biting. And with every contact, your body reacts to it by shaking in his hold. Mouth lull, mind too dizzy to voice anything, he grabs your chin to turn your head. 
A soft smile is all you can see behind your tears as he leans to capture your lips in his, ‘‘Happy Valentine’s, my sweet Moonlight.’’ then he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. Tongues curl around one another, drool mixing, lips smacking repeatedly, you whimper as the sensation comes too much. 
After a rough fuck, your mind - and of course your body - finds this affection bizarre and reacts by melting under it. And it goes so long that his lips never leave yours while he sets you free from the hook, torso still tied by the rope but now you sit on his lap, losing yourself into a rousing kiss session. His fingers go up and down on your stomach, sometimes lingers around your nipples to hitch your breath. And it goes on like this until you two burn with need once again. Hard and ready for another all-consuming bliss as he helps you to ride him. 
Holds you by the waist, circles your hips on him as his head rests on the pillow. 
‘‘H-harder. Master please, I need m-more…’’ sobs won’t let you talk more, Namjoon smirks at that. Fingers grabbing you tighter, as he holds you high. 
‘‘Can’t even talk but still cries for more. Tch, always starving for Master’s cock.’’ 
Answering him by nodding, he won’t wait long to fuck you ruthless. Bouncing you on his cock, you mewl, mewl and mewl until he changes the positions to push himself deeper in you. Knees hitting your shoulder, he goes so deep that your eyes roll back until he stops his movements. Your cunt clenched around him to hold him inside, it has him coming thick and lot. Brushing his finger around your clit, rubbing and pulling the wasted bud, you come around him before he goes soft. Panting loud, desperate as everything feels too much, too strong, too surreal. 
So, when Namjoon finally lays beside you, hand patting your hair while he adjusts his breathing, you try to stop crying. 
‘‘Are you okay, baby girl?’’ he asks, a kiss to your temple. Freeing your face from your tears, you see the concern buried deep in his eyes. ‘‘Let me untie you, okay?’’ 
Nodding, you let him pull you on your ass. ‘‘I’m okay… It was just intense.’’ smile wandering on your lips, you continued. ‘‘And amazing. Don’t worry okay? I really do love when you go harsh on me. It was… fascinating.’’ 
Namjoon laughs at your face, all flushed and dreamy like you were still in the heat of your sex. Setting you free from the last knot, he kisses every mark that rope left behind, helps you to move your muscles, clench and unclench your palms to fasten your blood circulation. 
‘‘It’s like you want me to tie you like this all the time, love.’’ Namjoon cocks his brow high, as the smile still lingers on your mouth. 
‘‘Would you?’’ answer coming so fast and full of hope, he has to laugh at your eagerness. You, indeed, would love him to hang you from your ceiling all the time. As you said to him, it was intense, mind-blowing, and you did like it so much. 
Shaking his head, he laughs once again. ‘‘You need to eat some sugar, then we can talk about… this. Okay?’’ he points the hook, you nod at him with a pout on your lips, But he leans and kisses it, massaging your arms. Then he stops abruptly, eyes go wide. 
‘‘Shit. I forgot to water my plants.’’ he then jumps from the bed and rushes to the corner where he kept his plants. 
Rolling your eyes, you let yourself fall on to bed. ‘‘Of course you did.’’ you mumble, watching your boyfriend spraying water at his plants, humming to himself with a heart melting smile tugged on his face. Duality causes you to giggle on your own. There the man who made you choke on your spit moments ago, now with all the care he has, he waters his plants. All naked, and happy. 
Tiny jealousy in your heart, you close your eyes to listen to him humming a song that comes familiar but you are so tired that you can’t find the name. Stretching your arms with all the power you had, as Namjoon talks to his plants with a soft voice. 
‘‘I know it took so long…’’
‘‘Look how grown you are…’’
‘‘Oh, guess we need to change your place, huh?’’ 
You sigh deep, a tiny giddy sense blooms in your chest while your boyfriend’s voice licks behind your ears. A warm smile grows on your face, you think,
Happy Valentine’s, indeed. 
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queenaryastark · 4 years ago
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Elia Martell: Quote Masterlist
In preparation for Elia Week 2021, I compiled all of the times Elia is mentioned in ASOIAF and TWOIAF. It’s not surprising, but it is very troubling how little we get of her actual personality and characterization. There’s clearly an overemphasis on her rape and murder, the quest for vengeance on her brother’s side, and how she compared to other women. We get one flashback/vision of her after Aegon’s birth discussion song and prophecy with Rhaegar which is the only time she actually speaks. Oberyn’s courtship tour story gives hints at her characterization, while Barristan, who wouldn’t have known her well, gives us details like: good, delicate health, kind, clever, and sweet wit. It’s pretty vague, but unfortunately that’s all GRRM gave us. 
Anyway, the quotes are under the cut:
Her Murder
Princess Elia of Dorne pleading for mercy as Rhaegar's heir was ripped from her breast and murdered before her eyes. -- Dany I, AGOT ----- The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children.  -- Dany I, AGOT ----- Some said it had been Gregor who'd dashed the skull of the infant prince Aegon Targaryen against a wall, and whispered that afterward he had raped the mother, the Dornish princess Elia, before putting her to the sword. -- Eddard VII, AGOT ----- Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. -- Eddard XV, AGOT ----- In Dorne, the Martells still brood on the murder of Princess Elia and her babes. -- Eddard XV, AGOT ------ The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe. "My father once told me that a lord never lets sentiment get in the way of ambition . . . and it happens we have an empty seat on the small council, now that Lord Janos has taken the black." "A council seat is not to be despised," Varys admitted, "yet will it be enough to make a proud man forget his sister's murder?" "Why forget?" Tyrion smiled. "I've promised to deliver his sister's killers, alive or dead, as he prefers. After the war is done, to be sure." Varys gave him a shrewd look. "My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a . . . certain name . . . when they came for her." -- Tyrion IV, AGOT ----- "Prince Doran comes at my son's invitation," Lord Tywin said calmly, "not only to join in our celebration, but to claim his seat on this council, and the justice Robert denied him for the murder of his sister Elia and her children." -- Tyrion III, ASOS ---- I did not come for some mummer's show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane . . . but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that. -- Tyrion V, ASOS -------- "It is justice. It was Ser Amory who brought me the girl's body, if you must know. He found her hiding under her father's bed, as if she believed Rhaegar could still protect her. Princess Elia and the babe were in the nursery a floor below." -- Tyrion VI, ASOS ----- "I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing." "Then why did the Mountain kill her?" "Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark's van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do." He closed a fist. "Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape . . . even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of . . . two? Three? He said she'd kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow." His mouth twisted in distaste. "The blood was in him." -- Tyrion VI, ASOS ------ Justice is in short supply this side of the mountains. There has been none for Elia, Aegon, or Rhaenys. Why should there be any for you? Perhaps Joffrey's real killer was eaten by a bear. That seems to happen quite often in King's Landing. -- Tyrion IX, ASOS -------- "I am not lying. Ser Amory dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father's bed and stabbed her to death. He had some men-at-arms with him, but I do not know their names." He leaned forward. "It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon's head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with his blood and brains still on his hands." -- Tyrion IX, ASOS --------- "The gout I cannot help," she said, "but my father had no use for grief. Vengeance was more to his taste. Is it true that Gregor Clegane admitted slaying Elia and her children?" "He roared out his guilt for all the court to hear," the prince admitted. "Lord Tywin has promised us his head." -- Hotah, AFFC --------- "My sister Elia had a little girl as well. Her name was Rhaenys. She was a princess too." The prince sighed. "Those who would plunge a knife into Princess Myrcella do not bear her any malice, no more than Ser Amory Lorch did when he killed Rhaenys, if indeed he did. They seek only to force my hand. For if Myrcella should be slain in Dorne whilst under my protection, who would believe my denials?" -- Arys, AFFC --------
Oberyn VS Gregor Clegane
The Dornishman slid sideways. "I am Oberyn Martell, a prince of Dorne," he said, as the Mountain turned to keep him in sight. "Princess Elia was my sister." "Who?" asked Gregor Clegane. Oberyn's long spear jabbed, but Ser Gregor took the point on his shield, shoved it aside, and bulled back at the prince, his great sword flashing. The Dornishman spun away untouched. The spear darted forward. Clegane slashed at it, Martell snapped it back, then thrust again. Metal screamed on metal as the spearhead slid off the Mountain's chest, slicing through the surcoat and leaving a long bright scratch on the steel beneath. "Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne," the Red Viper hissed. "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children." Ser Gregor grunted. He made a ponderous charge to hack at the Dornishman's head. Prince Oberyn avoided him easily. "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children." ------- But the Red Viper of Dorne was back on his feet, his long spear in hand. "Elia," he called at Ser Gregor. "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children. Now say her name." The Mountain whirled. Helm, shield, sword, surcoat; he was spattered with gore from head to heels. "You talk too much," he grumbled. "You make my head hurt." "I will hear you say it. She was Elia of Dorne." The Mountain snorted contemptuously, and came on . . . and in that moment, the sun broke through the low clouds that had hidden the sky since dawn. -------- Prince Oberyn tilted his dinted metal shield. A shaft of sunlight blazed blindingly off polished gold and copper, into the narrow slit of his foe's helm. Clegane lifted his own shield against the glare. Prince Oberyn's spear flashed like lightning and found the gap in the heavy plate, the joint under the arm. The point punched through mail and boiled leather. Gregor gave a choked grunt as the Dornishman twisted his spear and yanked it free."Elia. Say it! Elia of Dorne!" He was circling, spear poised for another thrust. "Say it!" Tyrion had his own prayer. Fall down and die, was how it went. Damn you, fall down and die! The blood trickling from the Mountain's armpit was his own now, and he must be bleeding even more heavily inside the breastplate. When he tried to take a step, one knee buckled. Tyrion thought he was going down. Prince Oberyn had circled behind him. "ELIA OF DORNE!" he shouted. Ser Gregor started to turn, but too slow and too late. The spearhead went through the back of the knee this time, through the layers of chain and leather between the plates on thigh and calf. The Mountain reeled, swayed, then collapsed face first on the ground. His huge sword went flying from his hand. Slowly, ponderously, he rolled onto his back. The Dornishman flung away his ruined shield, grasped the spear in both hands, and sauntered away. Behind him the Mountain let out a groan, and pushed himself onto an elbow. Oberyn whirled cat-quick, and ran at his fallen foe. "EEEEELLLLLLIIIIIAAAAA!" he screamed, as he drove the spear down with the whole weight of his body behind it. The crack of the ashwood shaft snapping was almost as sweet a sound as Cersei's wail of fury, and for an instant Prince Oberyn had wings. The snake has vaulted over the Mountain. Four feet of broken spear jutted from Clegane's belly as Prince Oberyn rolled, rose, and dusted himself off. He tossed aside the splintered spear and claimed his foe's greatsword. "If you die before you say her name, ser, I will hunt you through all seven hells," he promised. ------ Clegane's hand shot up and grabbed the Dornishman behind the knee. The Red Viper brought down the greatsword in a wild slash, but he was off-balance, and the edge did no more than put another dent in the Mountain's vambrace. Then the sword was forgotten as Gregor's hand tightened and twisted, yanking the Dornishman down on top of him. They wrestled in the dust and blood, the broken spear wobbling back and forth. Tyrion saw with horror that the Mountain had wrapped one huge arm around the prince, drawing him tight against his chest, like a lover. "Elia of Dorne," they all heard Ser Gregor say, when they were close enough to kiss. His deep voice boomed within the helm. "I killed her screaming whelp." He thrust his free hand into Oberyn's unprotected face, pushing steel fingers into his eyes. "Then I raped her." Clegane slammed his fist into the Dornishman's mouth, making splinters of his teeth. "Then I smashed her fucking head in. Like this." As he drew back his huge fist, the blood on his gauntlet seemed to smoke in the cold dawn air. There was a sickening crunch. Ellaria Sand wailed in terror, and Tyrion's breakfast came boiling back up. He found himself on his knees retching bacon and sausage and applecakes, and that double helping of fried eggs cooked up with onions and fiery Dornish peppers.-- Tyrion, X
General
Viserys, was her first thought the next time she paused, but a second glance told her otherwise. The man had her brother's hair, but he was taller, and his eyes were a dark indigo rather than lilac. "Aegon," he said to a woman nursing a newborn babe in a great wooden bed. "What better name for a king?"
"Will you make a song for him?" the woman asked.
"He has a song," the man replied. "He is the prince that was promised, and his is the song of ice and fire." He looked up when he said it and his eyes met Dany's, and it seemed as if he saw her standing there beyond the door. "There must be one more," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or the woman in the bed she could not say. "The dragon has three heads." He went to the window seat, picked up a harp, and ran his fingers lightly over its silvery strings. Sweet sadness filled the room as man and wife and babe faded like the morning mist, only the music lingering behind to speed her on her way. -- Daenerys IV, ACOK
------
She nodded. "There was a woman in a bed with a babe at her breast. My brother said the babe was the prince that was promised and told her to name him Aegon."
"Prince Aegon was Rhaegar's heir by Elia of Dorne," Ser Jorah said. "But if he was this prince that was promised, the promise was broken along with his skull when the Lannisters dashed his head against a wall." -- Daenerys V, ACOK
------
No doubt he was waiting for Prince Viserys to mature, or perhaps for Rhaegar's wife to die in childbed. Elia of Dorne was never the healthiest of women. -- Jaime II, ASOS
------
 The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. -- Jaime V, ASOS
-----
When the word reached court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, but he thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. -- Jaime V, ASOS
-------
"It was when I visited Casterly Rock with my mother, her consort, and my sister Elia. I was, oh, fourteen, fifteen, thereabouts, Elia a year older. Your brother and sister were eight or nine, as I recall, and you had just been born." -- Tyrion V, ASOS
--------
The cell they gave me had a featherbed to sleep in and Myrish carpets on the floor, but it was dark and windowless, much like a dungeon when you come down to it, as I told Elia at the time. Your skies were too grey, your wines too sweet, your women too chaste, your food too bland . . . and you yourself were the greatest disappointment of all." -- Tyrion V, ASOS
----------
"Cersei promised Elia to show you to us. The day before we were to sail, whilst my mother and your father were closeted together, she and Jaime took us down to your nursery. Your wet nurse tried to send us off, but your sister was having none of that. 'He's mine,' she said, 'and you're just a milk cow, you can't tell me what to do. Be quiet or I'll have my father cut your tongue out. A cow doesn't need a tongue, only udders.'"
"Her Grace learned charm at an early age," said Tyrion, amused by the notion of his sister claiming him as hers. "She's never been in any rush to claim me since, the gods know.
"Cersei even undid your swaddling clothes to give us a better look," the Dornish prince continued. "You did have one evil eye, and some black fuzz on your scalp. Perhaps your head was larger than most . . . but there was no tail, no beard, neither teeth nor claws, and nothing between your legs but a tiny pink cock. After all the wonderful whispers, Lord Tywin's Doom turned out to be just a hideous red infant with stunted legs. Elia even made the noise that young girls make at the sight of infants, I'm sure you've heard it. The same noise they make over cute kittens and playful puppies. I believe she wanted to nurse you herself, ugly as you were. When I commented that you seemed a poor sort of monster, your sister said, 'He killed my mother,' and twisted your little cock so hard I thought she was like to pull it off. You shrieked, but it was only when your brother Jaime said, 'Leave him be, you're hurting him,' that Cersei let go of you. 'It doesn't matter,' she told us. 'Everyone says he's like to die soon. He shouldn't even have lived this long.'" -- Tyrion V, ASOS
---------
"As children Elia and I were inseparable, much like your own brother and sister." -- Tyrion V, ASOS
----------
"But that was the tourney when he crowned Lyanna Stark as queen of love and beauty!" said Dany. "Princess Elia was there, his wife, and yet my brother gave the crown to the Stark girl, and later stole her away from her betrothed. How could he do that? Did the Dornish woman treat him so ill?"
"It is not for such as me to say what might have been in your brother's heart, Your Grace. The Princess Elia was a good and gracious lady, though her health was ever delicate."
"It is not for such as me to say what might have been in your brother's heart, Your Grace. The Princess Elia was a good and gracious lady, though her health was ever delicate."
Dany pulled the lion pelt tighter about her shoulders. "Viserys said once that it was my fault, for being born too late." She had denied it hotly, she remembered, going so far as to tell Viserys that it was his fault for not being born a girl. He beat her cruelly for that insolence. "If I had been born more timely, he said, Rhaegar would have married me instead of Elia, and it would all have come out different. If Rhaegar had been happy in his wife, he would not have needed the Stark girl." -- Daenerys, ASOS
--------
"Aye. I will." Ulmer, stooped and grey-bearded and loose of skin and limb, stepped to the mark and pulled an arrow from the quiver at his waist. In his youth he had been an outlaw, a member of the infamous Kingswood Brotherhood. He claimed he'd once put an arrow through the hand of the White Bull of the Kingsguard to steal a kiss from the lips of a Dornish princess. He had stolen her jewels too, and a chest of golden dragons, but it was the kiss he liked to boast of in his cups. -- Samwell II, ASOS
--------
"Do you recall the tale I told you of our first meeting, Imp?" Prince Oberyn asked, as the Bastard of Godsgrace knelt before him to fasten his greaves. "It was not for your tail alone that my sister and I came to Casterly Rock. We were on a quest of sorts. A quest that took us to Starfall, the Arbor, Oldtown, the Shield Islands, Crakehall, and finally Casterly Rock . . . but our true destination was marriage. Doran was betrothed to Lady Mellario of Norvos, so he had been left behind as castellan of Sunspear. My sister and I were yet unpromised.
"Elia found it all exciting. She was of that age, and her delicate health had never permitted her much travel. I preferred to amuse myself by mocking my sister's suitors. There was Little Lord Lazyeye, Squire Squishlips, one I named the Whale That Walks, that sort of thing. The only one who was even halfway presentable was young Baelor Hightower. A pretty lad, and my sister was half in love with him until he had the misfortune to fart once in our presence. I promptly named him Baelor Breakwind, and after that Elia couldn't look at him without laughing. I was a monstrous young fellow, someone should have sliced out my vile tongue."
Yes, Tyrion agreed silently. Baelor Hightower was no longer young, but he remained Lord Leyton's heir; wealthy, handsome, and a knight of splendid repute. Baelor Brightsmile, they called him now. Had Elia wed him in place of Rhaegar Targaryen, she might be in Oldtown with her children growing tall around her. He wondered how many lives had been snuffed out by that fart.
"Lannisport was the end of our voyage," Prince Oberyn went on, as Ser Arron Qorgyle helped him into a padded leather tunic and began lacing it up the back. "Were you aware that our mothers knew each other of old?"
"They had been at court together as girls, I seem to recall. Companions to Princess Rhaella?"
"Just so. It was my belief that the mothers had cooked up this plot between them. Squire Squishlips and his ilk and the various pimply young maidens who'd been paraded before me were the almonds before the feast, meant only to whet our appetites. The main course was to be served at Casterly Rock."
"Cersei and Jaime."
"Such a clever dwarf. Elia and I were older, to be sure. Your brother and sister could not have been more than eight or nine. Still, a difference of five or six years is little enough. And there was an empty cabin on our ship, a very nice cabin, such as might be kept for a person of high birth. As if it were intended that we take someone back to Sunspear. A young page, perhaps. Or a companion for Elia. Your lady mother meant to betroth Jaime to my sister, or Cersei to me. Perhaps both."
"Perhaps," said Tyrion, "but my father—"
"—ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but was ruled at home by his lady wife, or so my mother always said." Prince Oberyn raised his arms, so Lord Dagos Manwoody and the Bastard of Godsgrace could slip a chainmail byrnie down over his head. "At Oldtown we learned of your mother's death, and the monstrous child she had borne. We might have turned back there, but my mother chose to sail on. I told you of the welcome we found at Casterly Rock.
"What I did not tell you was that my mother waited as long as was decent, and then broached your father about our purpose. Years later, on her deathbed, she told me that Lord Tywin had refused us brusquely. His daughter was meant for Prince Rhaegar, he informed her. And when she asked for Jaime, to espouse Elia, he offered her you instead."
"Which offer she took for an outrage."
"It was. Even you can see that, surely?"
"Oh, surely." It all goes back and back, Tyrion thought, to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them. We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance on in our steads. "Well, Prince Rhaegar married Elia of Dorne, not Cersei Lannister of Casterly Rock. So it would seem your mother won that tilt."
"She thought so," Prince Oberyn agreed, "but your father is not a man to forget such slights. He taught that lesson to Lord and Lady Tarbeck once, and to the Reynes of Castamere. And at King's Landing, he taught it to my sister. My helm, Dagos." Manwoody handed it to him; a high golden helm with a copper disk mounted on the brow, the sun of Dorne. The visor had been removed, Tyrion saw. "Elia and her children have waited long for justice." Prince Oberyn pulled on soft red leather gloves, and took up his spear again. "But this day they shall have it." -- Tyrion X, ASOS
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"Was she a fair maid?"
"She was," said Meera, hopping over a stone, "but there were others fairer still. One was the wife of the dragon prince, who'd brought a dozen lady companions to attend her. The knights all begged them for favors to tie about their lances." -- Bran II, ASOS
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"I was the oldest," the prince said, "and yet I am the last. After Mors and Olyvar died in their cradles, I gave up hope of brothers. I was nine when Elia came, a squire in service at Salt Shore. When the raven arrived with word that my mother had been brought to bed a month too soon, I was old enough to understand that meant the child would not live. Even when Lord Gargalen told me that I had a sister, I assured him that she must shortly die. Yet she lived, by the Mother's mercy. And a year later Oberyn arrived, squalling and kicking. I was a man grown when they were playing in these pools. Yet here I sit, and they are gone." -- Hotah I, AFFC
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"Tyene. Obara is too loud. Tyene is so sweet and gentle that no man will suspect her. Obara would make Oldtown our father's funeral pyre, but I am not so greedy. Four lives will suffice for me. Lord Tywin's golden twins, as payment for Elia's children. The old lion, for Elia herself. And last of all the little king, for my father -- Hotah I, AFFC
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"He went beyond anything I asked of him. 'Take the measure of this boy king and his council, and make note of their strengths and weaknesses,' I told him, on the terrace. We were eating oranges. 'Find us friends, if there are any to be found. Learn what you can of Elia's end, but see that you do not provoke Lord Tywin unduly,' those were my words to him. Oberyn laughed, and said, 'When have I provoked any man . . . unduly? You would do better to warn the Lannisters against provoking me.' He wanted justice for Elia, but he would not wait—"
"He waited ten-and-seven years," the Lady Nym broke in. "Were it you they'd killed, my father would have led his banners north before your corpse was cold. Were it you, the spears would be falling thick as rain upon the marches now." -- Hotah I, AFFC
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"And what is it I want, ser?"
"The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood."
That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father's seat. I want Dorne. "I want justice." -- Arianne I, AFFC
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"With me?" That is so like him. "For Lord Tywin and the Lannisters you always had the forbearance of Baelor the Blessed, but for your own blood, none."
"You mistake patience for forbearance. I have worked at the downfall of Tywin Lannister since the day they told me of Elia and her children. It was my hope to strip him of all that he held most dear before I killed him, but it would seem his dwarf son has robbed me of that pleasure. I take some small solace in knowing that he died a cruel death at the hands of the monster that he himself begot. Be that as it may. Lord Tywin is howling down in hell . . . where thousands more will soon be joining him, if your folly turns to war." Her father grimaced, as if the very word were painful to him. "Is that what you want?"
The princess refused to be cowed. "I want my cousins freed. I want my uncle avenged. I want my rights." -- Arianne II, AFFC
-------
Black cats brought ill luck, as Rhaegar's little girl had discovered in this very castle. She would have been my daughter, if the Mad King had not played his cruel jape on Father. It had to have been the madness that led Aerys to refuse Lord Tywin's daughter and take his son instead, whilst marrying his own son to a feeble Dornish princess with black eyes and a flat chest. -- Cersei V, AFFC
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"Her duty." The word felt cold upon her tongue. "You saw my brother Rhaegar wed. Tell me, did he wed for love or duty?"
The old knight hesitated. "Princess Elia was a good woman, Your Grace. She was kind and clever, with a gentle heart and a sweet wit. I know the prince was very fond of her."
Fond, thought Dany. The word spoke volumes. I could become fond of Hizdahr zo Loraq, in time. Perhaps. -- Daenerys IV, ADWD
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The lad flushed. "That was not me. I told you. That was some tanner's son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died birthing him. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of Arbor gold. He had other sons but had never tasted Arbor gold. Varys gave the Pisswater boy to my lady mother and carried me away." -- Tyrion VI, ADWD
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Seventeen years had come and gone since the Battle of the Bells, yet the sound of bells ringing still tied a knot in his guts. Others might claim that the realm was lost when Prince Rhaegar fell to Robert's warhammer on the Trident, but the Battle of the Trident would never have been fought if the griffin had only slain the stag there in Stoney Sept. The bells tolled for all of us that day. For Aerys and his queen, for Elia of Dorne and her little daughter, for every true man and honest woman in the Seven Kingdoms. And for my silver prince.
"The plan was to reveal Prince Aegon only when we reached Queen Daenerys," Lemore was saying. -- JonCon I, ADWD
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That time was done, though. "No man could have asked for a worthier son," Griff said, "but the lad is not of my blood, and his name is not Griff. My lords, I give you Aegon Targaryen, firstborn son of Rhaegar, Prince of Dragonstone, by Princess Elia of Dorne … soon, with your help, to be Aegon, the Sixth of His Name, King of Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms."-- JonCon I, ADWD
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Prince Doran frowned. "That is so, Ser Balon, but the Lady Nym is right. If ever a man deserved to die screaming, it was Gregor Clegane. He butchered my good sister, smashed her babe's head against a wall. I only pray that now he is burning in some hell, and that Elia and her children are at peace. This is the justice that Dorne has hungered for. I am glad that I lived long enough to taste it. At long last the Lannisters have proved the truth of their boast and paid this old blood debt." -- Hotah, ADWD
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"A start?" said Ellaria Sand, incredulous. "Gods forbid. I would it were a finish. Tywin Lannister is dead. So are Robert Baratheon, Amory Lorch, and now Gregor Clegane, all those who had a hand in murdering Elia and her children. Even Joffrey, who was not yet born when Elia died. I saw the boy perish with mine own eyes, clawing at his throat as he tried to draw a breath. Who else is there to kill? Do Myrcella and Tommen need to die so the shades of Rhaenys and Aegon can be at rest? Where does it end?"-- Hotah, ADWD
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"Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?" Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain's head. "I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"-- Hotah, ADWD
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It was his failures that haunted him at night, though. Jaehaerys, Aerys, Robert. Three dead kings. Rhaegar, who would have been a finer king than any of them. Princess Elia and the children. Aegon just a babe, Rhaenys with her kitten. Dead, every one, yet he still lived, who had sworn to protect them. And now Daenerys, his bright shining child queen. She is not dead. I will not believe it. -- Barristan II, ADWD
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A bride for our bright prince. Jon Connington remembered Prince Rhaegar's wedding all too well. Elia was never worthy of him. She was frail and sickly from the first, and childbirth only left her weaker. After the birth of Princess Rhaenys, her mother had been bedridden for half a year, and Prince Aegon's birth had almost been the death of her. She would bear no more children, the maesters told Prince Rhaegar afterward. -- JonCon II, ADWD
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Griff had heard enough of the captain-general's cowardice. "We will not be alone. Dorne will join us, must join us. Prince Aegon is Elia's son as well as Rhaegar's."-- JonCon II, ADWD
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Rhaegar had chosen Lyanna Stark of Winterfell. Barristan Selmy would have made a different choice. Not the queen, who was not present. Nor Elia of Dorne, though she was good and gentle; had she been chosen, much war and woe might have been avoided. His choice would have been a young maiden not long at court, one of Elia's companions … though compared to Ashara Dayne, the Dornish princess was a kitchen drab. -- Barristan III, ADWD
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She will never wash the stain away, no matter how hard she scrubs. Ser Kevan remembered the girl she once had been, so full of life and mischief. And when she'd flowered, ahhhh … had there ever been a maid so sweet to look upon? If Aerys had agreed to marry her to Rhaegar, how many deaths might have been avoided? Cersei could have given the prince the sons he wanted, lions with purple eyes and silver manes … and with such a wife, Rhaegar might never have looked twice at Lyanna Stark. The northern girl had a wild beauty, as he recalled, though however bright a torch might burn it could never match the rising sun.
But it did no good to brood on lost battles and roads not taken. That was a vice of old done men. Rhaegar had wed Elia of Dorne, Lyanna Stark had died, Robert Baratheon had taken Cersei to bride, and here they were. And tonight his own road would take him to his niece's chambers and face-to-face with Cersei. -- Kevan, ADWD
------
Fire and blood was what Jon Connington (if indeed it was him) was offering as well. Or was it? "He comes with sellswords, but no dragons," Prince Doran had told her, the night the raven came. "The Golden Company is the best and largest of the free companies, but ten thousand mercenaries cannot hope to win the Seven Kingdoms. Elia's son... I would weep for joy if some part of my sister had survived, but what proof do we have that this is Aegon?" His voice broke when he said that. "Where are the dragons?" he asked. "Where is Daenerys?" and Arianne knew that he was really saying, "Where is my son?" -- Arianne I, TWOW
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"Gregor Clegane ripped Aegon out of Elia's arms and smashed his head against a wall," Ser Daemon said. "If Lord Connington's prince has a crushed skull, I will believe that Aegon Targaryen has returned from the grave. Elsewise, no. This is some feigned boy, no more. A sellsword's ploy to win support." -- Arianne I, TWOW
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"I... it would give great joy to my father if Elia's son were still alive. He loved his sister well." -- Arianne I, TWOW
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So it was. "I was seven when Elia died. They say I held her daughter Rhaenys once, when I was too young to remember. Aegon will be a stranger to me, whether true or false." The princess paused. "We looked for Rhaegar's sister, not his son." Her father had confided in Ser Daemon when he chose him as his daughter's shield; with him at least she could speak freely. "I would sooner it were Quentyn who'd returned." -- Arianne I, TWOW
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Meanwhile, King Aerys was becoming ever more estranged from his own son and heir. Early in the year 279 AC, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, was formally betrothed to Princess Elia Martell, the delicate young sister of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne. They were wed the following year, in a lavish ceremony at the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, but Aerys II did not attend. He told the small council that he feared an attempt upon his life if he left the confines of the Red Keep, even with his Kingsguard to protect him. Nor would he allow his younger son, Viserys, to attend his brother's wedding.
When Prince Rhaegar and his new wife chose to take up residence on Dragonstone instead of the Red Keep, rumors flew thick and fast across the Seven Kingdoms. Some claimed that the crown prince was planning to depose his father and seize the Iron Throne for himself, whilst others said that King Aerys meant to disinherit Rhaegar and name Viserys heir in his place. Nor did the birth of King Aerys's first grandchild, a girl named Rhaenys, born on Dragonstone in 280 AC, do aught to reconcile father and son. When Prince Rhaegar returned to the Red Keep to present his daughter to his own mother and father, Queen Rhaella embraced the babe warmly, but King Aerys refused to touch or hold the child and complained that she "smells Dornish." -- TWOIAF
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Chief amongst the Mad King's supporters were three lords of his small council: Qarlton Chelsted, master of coin, Lucerys Velaryon, master of ships, and Symond Staunton, master of laws. The eunuch Varys, master of whisperers, and Wisdom Rossart, grand master of the Guild of Alchemists, also enjoyed the king's trust. Prince Rhaegar's support came from the younger men at court, including Lord Jon Connington, Ser Myles Mooton of Maidenpool, and Ser Richard Lonmouth. The Dornishmen who had come to court with the Princess Elia were in the prince's confidence as well, particularly Prince Lewyn Martell, Elia's uncle and a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard. But the most formidable of all Rhaegar's friends and allies in King's Landing was surely Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.-- TWOIAF
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And when the triumphant Prince of Dragonstone named Lyanna Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell, the queen of love and beauty, placing a garland of blue roses in her lap with the tip of his lance, the lickspittle lords gathered around the king declared that further proof of his perfidy. Why would the prince have thus given insult to his own wife, the Princess Elia Martell of Dorne (who was present), unless it was to help him gain the Iron Throne? The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia's delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar's cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king..-- TWOIAF
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As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon's turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon. With the coming of the new year, the crown prince had taken to the road with half a dozen of his closest friends and confidants, on a journey that would ultimately lead him back to the riverlands. Not ten leagues from Harrenhal, Rhaegar fell upon Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, and carried her off, lighting a fire that would consume his house and kin and all those he loved—and half the realm besides..-- TWOIAF
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From Dorne, in defense of Princess Elia, ten thousand spears came over the Boneway and marched to King's Landing to bolster the host that Rhaegar was raising. Those who were there at court during this time have recounted that Aerys's behavior was erratic. He was untrusting of any save his Kingsguard—and then only imperfectly, for he kept Ser Jaime Lannister close at all hours to serve as a hostage against his father..-- TWOIAF
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Birds flew and couriers raced to bear word of the victory at the Ruby Ford. When the news reached the Red Keep, it was said that Aerys cursed the Dornish, certain that Lewyn had betrayed Rhaegar. He sent his pregnant queen, Rhaella, and his younger son and new heir, Viserys, away to Dragonstone, but Princess Elia was forced to remain in King's Landing with Rhaegar's children as a hostage against Dorne. Having burned his previous Hand, Lord Chelsted, alive for bad counsel during the war, Aerys now appointed another to the position: the alchemist Rossart—a man of low birth, with little to recommend him but his flames and trickery. -- TWOIAF
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The Red Keep was soon breached, but in the chaos, misfortune soon fell upon Elia of Dorne and her children, Rhaenys and Aegon. It is tragic that the blood spilled in war may as readily be innocent as it is guilty, and that those who ravished and murdered Princess Elia escaped justice. It is not known who murdered Princess Rhaenys in her bed, or smashed the infant Prince Aegon's head against a wall. Some whisper it was done at Aerys's own command when he learned that Lord Lannister had taken up Robert's cause, while others suggest that Elia did it herself for fear of what would happen to her children in the hands of her dead husband's enemies.-- TWOIAF
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Dorne continued to be closely allied with House Targaryen in the years that followed, with the Martells supporting the Targaryens against the Blackfyre Pretenders and sending spears to fight the Ninepenny Kings on the Stepstones. Their loyal service was rewarded when Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne, took to wife Princess Elia Martell of Sunspear, and sired two children by her. But for the madness of Rhaegar's father, Aerys II, a prince of Dornish blood might very well have one day ruled the realm, but the upheavals of Robert's Rebellion brought about the end of Prince Rhaegar, his wife, and his children. .-- TWOIAF
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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years ago
Text
Sanguineous.
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Vampire! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader
Summary: This would’ve happened eventually, after all, you did fall in love with a vampire. At least he’ll be there for you when you need him the most.
WARNINGS! Biting, oral (female receiving), fingering, blood, pain, crying, dom!Izuku
Category: Smut
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Yo I’m super nervous with this one.. let me know how it turned out!
Just To Clarify:
This is set in the Victorian Era
Izu and Reader have been together for a while
Izuku is a kind lover, nervous boy
Reader is a virgin
Perm. Tag List:
@coupsieddori​ @desia2​ @strwbrry-lia​
Wet lips molded together passionately, perfectly in sync as desire swirled on the tip of your tongue.
His soft, frigid fingers trailed up the warm sides of your naked body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as shivers trickled down your spine like water.
Tonight was a special yet nerve-wracking night.
One that was bound to happen eventually, since you fell in love with an immortal vampire.
How it happened was still fresh in your memory like soil deep in the heart of a forest, you’d never forget meeting or falling in love with the one you forever wanted to call your own.
You hadn’t a moment to reminisce, the feeling of his cold hands inching closer towards your bare breast derailed your train of thought.
If you weren’t blindfolded and tied to the bed, you would’ve been running your fingers through those soft green locks, losing yourself in his large, emerald eyes that held so much love in them you feared you’d drown.
But for now, you’d do without.
Your senses were heightened considerably, his light touches driving you mad.
“(Y/N)..” He whispered against your collarbone, ghosting kisses across your skin lit aflame as his palms rested on your ribs.
“You look so beautiful..” The candles burning around the room created a sensual atmosphere, their warm light dancing across your smooth skin. You almost looked like someone straight out of a renaissance painting, utterly breathtaking. 
But anxiety and fear bubbled loosely in his gut, his movements slow and shaky. He was excited yet afraid.
Giddy.
Your skin against his own calms his nerves. He hummed when he saw that small smile on your addicting lips, moving to reclaim them once more, grounding himself with your eager love.
You gasped into his mouth once his hands finally cupped your breasts, thumb swiping over one of your perky nipples. Slipping his tongue into your wet cavern, he traced along all those sensitive parts of your mouth with the tip of his tongue, rolling your buds between his large fingers. 
Your back arched off the bed at feeling such cold hands against such a sensitive place, your nipples growing impossibly harder, near painful, by the second as wetness pooled between your legs, dripping down your ass just to soak into the soft, white cotton sheets beneath you.
He pulled away all too soon, eliciting a soft whine of disapproval as he chuckled.
“Patience.” 
His voice was deep, and sweet like honey, music you could play on repeat and never get tired of.
Pressing his lips to the corner of your own, he moved over your jawline, butterfly kisses being left behind. He exhaled heavily at your neck, nose pressing into the crook before inhaling deeply.
Your scent always overwhelmed him, made him lose the slightest bit of control.
He could hear your heart beat increasing, your blood pumping faster through the warm artery just below the skin where his freckled cheek lay snug.
It made him thirsty, desperate to sink his growing fangs into your flesh and to feel the warm liquid flow down his throat. It would be heavenly..
But he relented, pulling away to continue kissing down your body, praise slipping past his teeth as he marveled at your addicting beauty.
His words made your cheeks heat up, hips squirming once he pressed a peck below your naval.
You so desperately wished you could move your arms, but a soft rope kept you comfortably bound as he did to you what he desired. The very thought of having no control thrilled you to the very core, if the sudden throbbing had anything to say about it.
Your legs were then spread, and embarrassment flowed down your body like lava spewing from a volcano.
You had never been spread in such a way before, you were practically open wide like a sandwich waiting for the meat, you could even feel his eyes on your dripping core. Even if you were shy, seeing as this was your first time, you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. Not with him.
The bed squeaked as he shifted, his hot breath soon fanning over your fresh womanhood as he kept you open for him.
You couldn't control the way your hips twitched, involuntarily bucking up once his tongue dipped in between your folds.
“H-ah.. Izuku..!”
His hair tickled your thighs as he spread your folds open with his fingers, diving in and devouring your very essence with lustful hunger that had you shaking and moaning for more.
His tongue flicked over your throbbing clit, circling around it before possessively tracing his name onto the cute little bud, marking you as his.
You would always be his.
He pulled you closer to his mouth, eager to slurp you up and get you to relax even more.
He knew deep down that you were as nervous as him, possibly even moreso.
You would be giving your entire life to him, after all.
It filled him with such adrenaline every time he thought about it, how you’d risk everything to be his.
He loved you so much.
It was insane to think that someone like him could even feel love after centuries of being a cold-blooded killer that lived under the disguise of a nobleman.
His life was nothing until you stumbled into it, an orphan lost in the woods finding a manor, something straight out of a cliche fairy tale.
Not that he particularly minded, considering it was endearing how someone depended on him for the first time in his long life.
“HaaAAh!! I- Izu..! I’m..!”
The bottom of your tummy twisted into a heated knot, your clit puffy and overly sensitive as he continued to lather it in blissful attention.
He hummed, the vibrations shaking you, and the knot wound so tight it snapped.
Stars brighter than those in the captivating night sky exploded behind your eyelids, and you suddenly felt like you were walking on the softest cloud high above the earth as your back arched nearly uncomfortably from the sheer pleasure he brought forth to you. Pleasure you had never felt before
He was always so skilled with his tongue, both in business and apparently private matters.
He did have centuries to perfect it, after all.
Giving one final lick to your sopping flesh, collecting more of your juices on his tongue, he crawled back up your body, thrusting his tongue into your parted mouth.
You eagerly met his passion, the taste of yourself on him seemingly so scandalous, it was hard not to moan wantonly into his mouth.
He smiled against you, cupping your hot cheek with his cool hand, the difference in temperature making you inhale sharply and lean into his delicate touch.
Teasingly, you sucked on his tongue, thrill filling your body when he let out the tiniest of growls.
“Naughty little girl,” he rasped, “you’re already driving me mad, is it so wise to test my self control?”
As he said this, he momentarily ground his clothed crotch onto your bare thigh, dragging a whimper past your lips from how hard he was, and how big he felt.
How a vampire could be hard, you had no clue.
The undead and immortal wasn’t exactly your expertise.
All you truly knew was that some parts of him were warm and some cold, like an unevenly cooked chicken.
“P-perhaps..” You subconsciously bit your lip, his eyes no doubt watching as you did so, “it depends on if in doing so, you’ll give m-me what I want..”
A dark chuckle bounced around the room, you could almost feel the rumbling vibration from the chest hovering above your own.
“And what is it that you desire, (Y/N)?”
Your name rolled off his dirty tongue like molasses, thick and heavy, an accent unknown to you, lost by time, threading itself through every word, only adding to your obsession with his voice. 
“You know what I want..” He was always such a tease.
But he couldn't help himself. A smirk took over his features as he gazed down at your pouting face with piercing green eyes, you were always so cute when he did tease you. It was much too fun to simply give you what you wanted all the time.
Not to mention.. if he did.. things would escalate far too quickly. He was still nervous.
Even if he was both brains and bronze, he was still just an undeadman with human emotions. Curse being trapped in a young adult's body! He’ll forever feel the horniness of a teen and the crushing responsibility of an adult.
“Izuku.. It’s okay..” Your saccharine voice startled him from his thoughts, have you read his mind? “I want this.. it’s okay.” You smiled reassuringly, and he swore he felt his cold, dead heart beat.
Placing a kiss to your nose, he watched in amusement as you scrunched it up like a mouse.
First things first.. he had to get out of his attire.
Despite you being fully naked, he was fully clothed. It certainly made him feel powerful, but tonight, he wanted to be your equal.
So, pulling back and sitting on his haunches, he unbuttoned his brown vest and white dress shirt, tossing them haphazardly to the floor, careful to avoid the flames of the candles. 
It was a cooler night, autumn changing the leaves of the trees just outside his large window gleaming with moonlight, and so a fire burned in the fireplace opposite of the room.
He didnt want you to be too terribly cold.
Besides, the crackling of the fire calmed his nerves.
Soon he had his pants and other clothing off, and he was as bare as you.
Only, you couldnt see him.
But you could certainly feel his muscular thighs on either side of your own, he truly was a sculpture.
He captured your lips once again in a kiss, fingers smoothing down your belly just to gather your own slick and prod at your clenching entrance.
The prickling feeling of something so cold touching something so hot made you flinch, and so he held you still with his other hand, his chest resting against yours as you took in shaky breaths.
Pushing a digit inside, he groaned at how tight you were, pulsing around his finger and sucking it further into your molten warmth until he was knuckle deep.
“Fuck..” He huffed against your neck, tongue dipping out to taste your salty flesh for just a moment.
“You’re so tight, love..”
“Mm..” You forced your body to relax, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.
Pulling his finger out, he thrust it back in, a wet squelch accompanying his actions.
It didnt take long for you to adjust to the single digit, soon finding pleasure in the way his finger moved in and out of you. “H-hah.. mmMm..” 
Another finger prodding at your entrance made your hips buck up, the coldness addicting as it felt like you were being filled up with a smooth rock.
It felt so good.. you swore you were melting despite the vast difference in temperature.
“I-Izuku..! Mm! G-uh.. hAH! AaAAAH?!!”
His fingers curled inside of your brushing up against a spot inside yourself you never knew about.
He thrusted his fingers inside of you faster, hitting that same spot every time with a wet click. Eventually a third finger was added, and you swore you were close to seeing those stars again.
“UuaaaAhh!! S-so!! Good!! G-gonna.. h-AAaaH! Gonna c-cum!! Izu- Izu!!”
Just as that knot was about to snap inside you again, he fully pulled his fingers out.
“No!” You sobbed, fighting against the restraints as you helplessly bucked into this air, “Izuku-!! Mmph!”
Your cries were cut off as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, saliva and your wetness dripping down your chin.
“Lick them clean for me, honey.” He purred seductively, that wicked man.
Without hesitation, you eagerly licked his fingers, lathering them in your spit before sucking heartily, slurping up your mess, ignoring the throbbing of your clit and the way your core clenched helplessly around nothing.
“Such a good girl, always listening to me.. I love you so much, (Y/N)..” Sighing dreamily, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, staring in awe at the string that connected them to you before it snapped.
“Izuku.. p-please.. please t-take me..! I- I can’t..!” You were on the verge of tears, so desperate for him.
Swallowing the ball of nerves sitting at the back of his throat, he finally decided to oblige.
“As you wish,” he whispered into your ear, leaning back to get between your legs, spreading them wide and resting them on his hips.
To think, you were about to give everything you had away to him.
He was honored, and would forever devote himself to you.
He was excited to never have to watch a loved one die in his arms again.
Grabbing his member, he stroked himself a few times, guiding the tip to your awaiting entrance.
His head kissed at the clenching hole, smearing his precum onto your flesh.
He finally pushed in, slowly, ears perked for any noise of discomfort or pain as he chewed his lip at the intense pleasure.
This was your first time, after all. He knew how much it hurt for virgins if not careful enough. He wanted to be careful, he couldnt bare the thought of hurting you because of his own selfish desires.
“Nh!” The smallest of squeaks caught his attention, and he immediately stopped stuffing himself in. “(Y/N)?” He panted like a dog in heat, voice laced with concern, hands massaging your hips.
“I-I’m okay..! It’s just.. haahh.. You’re… so big, Izuku..”
Was it wrong to have pride swell in his chest at the praise when his lover was in pain? He didnt know.
“Shh, baby.. give it a moment..” And so, he remained still, letting you catch your breath before continuing to shove himself inside your welcoming walls.
He was aware he was.. on the larger size. It must be painful to be taken by something so big for your first time.. but he couldnt help the size of his dick.
He was positive you’d love it eventually, he’d make sure of that.
“Almost there.. you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart..” His fingers squeezed at your hips as he slowly sheathed himself inside, eventually bottoming out with a pleased groan.
While he felt pleasure, all you felt was discomfort and pain.
It was nothing at all like his fingers, you felt like you were being torn in two!
You held back on your sobs, still fighting to relax yourself.
No one told you your first time would be so painful.. Granted, you didn't have anyone to tell you, but a heads up would’ve been pleasant.
But you'd take this, take the pain, because it was Izuku.
The love of your life.
You were overjoyed at the thought of being connected with him, you could even feel his overwhelming warmth, the way he twitched and throbbed inside of you, it was wonderful.
Way better than anything you had shamefully dreamed of before.
Lips brushed against your skin again, and you could tell he was trying to calm you down with his pure love with each kiss delicately placed.
Once you were as ready as could be, you tested the waters by grinding yourself on him, to which he let out a guttural growl.
Slowly, he pulled himself back out so that only his flushed tip remained inside, before pushing himself back in. A heavy pant escaped his lips as you shimmied, biting your own.
He continued to take things slow, rocking in and out of you in a slow rhythm, clutching the bed sheets beneath you so tightly his knuckles turned white as he fought to control himself from acting like a complete wild animal and fucking you raw.
It truly was hard to hold back, considering you felt so fucking good around his aching cock.
Fuck!
He swore you were the best he’s ever had!
His face was pinched and sweaty, eyes concentrating on your own facial expressions as he sped up, wet slaps starting to become a lewd white noise.
The more he fucked in and out of you, the more you got into it, his huge member filling you up in the sweetest way possible, brushing against parts inside of you you hadn't any idea were there.
It just felt.. so nice..
“H-haah.. mMM..! Izuku-! Please.. please go f-faster-!”
“But-“
“I can take it, please..!”
Without missing a beat, he sped up his hips, lurching forward from how good it felt, “Huunnhh..! Aah..” 
You were so wet, your juices started to drip down his thighs as you moaned oh-so loudly for him.
“AaAah! Zu!! Mmnngnn..! F-Feels!! Ahh, FUCK! It f-feels so good..! HaAAaaH..!”
His warm chest brushed against your own as he leaned down, holding you flushed against him as his hips snapped up into yours, thrusts so powering it made your head spin and the bed frame bang against the wall.
Everything was moving, and your body felt like it was on fire with pleasure-filled needles pricking your skin.
“(Y/N).. my lady..! F-uck- you’re so- h-haah.. so fucking tight..!” The freckled man grunted out, passion and desire swirling in his belly as your scent overwhelmed the fuck out of him. He could feel his fangs stabbing into his bottom lip, drops of his blood splattering onto your clear skin below as he continued to shake the bed with how fast he was fucking you.
He couldnt help but shove his nose into the crook of your neck, licking along the column and subconsciously nibbling and sucking little marks.
“Mm-! HaaaaAh.! B-baby..! Izuku! Izuku! B-bite me! M-make me yours! Please I- it’s okay..!”
You were insane to say something holding a thousand meanings and depth deeper than a trench, but you hadn't a care in the world as the love of your life fucked you so good you couldnt think straight.
“Haaauh..!” You words sent hot spikes of pleasure down his spine, and the hunger inside him grew tenfold. His throat was still burning, parched, and his eyes were hyper focused on your neck.
There was no turning back.
He licked your neck with his tongue once again, feeling for that thrum of your intense heartbeat in your artery. Once he found it, he hesitated, pearly white fangs hovering over your beautiful skin as you continued to cry out in pleasure.
This was it.
He bit down, blood immediately filling his mouth, flowing down your neck and staining the bed.
Your short cry of pain should've knocked him off, but he felt as if he was on drugs, his eyes damn near rolling back into his head as your delicious fucking flavor spilled down his throat, all while your dripping pussy clenched around him like a fist.
It felt so good!
You tasted.. so god damn good!!
He slurped noisily, lost in your flavor, your own blood dripping down his chin and your shoulder.
You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted… like pure sugar cane and honey, mellowed out with hints of dark chocolate and salt.
His cock twitched inside of you, pelvis rubbing against your puffy clit, and despite your love drinking your blood, you were in ecstasy, thighs shaking like a newborn as they squeezed his slim hips that continued to speed up.
You were being fucked so good that you hadnt a care in the world, your mind growing blank and fuzzy from the loss of blood.
“Izu.. haAaAAAAH! Izuku! Let me..! Let me see you!! Please I!! I want to see you!!” Tears leaked from your eyes, the pleasure too damn good for you to handle without turning into absolute jelly.
Snapping from his thoughts, he pulled away from you, licking the two dripping holes, his saliva sure to speed up the healing process.
“But I..! I look di- aaaah..! Different!” He was still ashamed of himself for being what he was, not to mention being so sloppy that your own blood was smeared on his mouth.
“Dont care! Please!”
The bed creaked as you pulled on your restraints, back arching off the bed as if to persuade him.
Shaking fingers pulled your silk blindfold off, and you were met with such beauty.
His eyes glowed a hungry crimson, cheeks flushed and hair slicked with sweat as his eyebrows pinched, bloody jaw hanging open with his fangs on full display, moans pouring out his mouth.
He was beautiful.
“GuaAh-! K-kiss me..!”
You didnt have to ask twice, as his lips soon crashed down onto yours, the metallic taste of your own blood fresh on his tongue driving you closer to the edge as he rearranged your insides, taking away the pain that began to sear your neck.
“MMmMmh!”
This was why he insisted upon tying you up whilst making love, because it fucking hurt, being turned into what he was, and he knew it.
He could remember the day he was turned like yesterday, in that dark alley all alone by the only person he trusted besides his mother. The fear he felt, the pain he felt, all by himself, unbearable.
He didn't want you to go through that, so he came up with the most numbing way possible for you to go through the process.
Tears fell like a waterfall down your eyes as the pain spread through your veins, breaking the kiss to sob out loud, and yet.. you felt so good at the same time.
You were feeling so many things it was hard to wrap your head around it.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N)..” he whispered before grabbing your hips, slamming into you even faster with inhuman speeds that made you scream in pleasure and the bed creak, promptly coming undone as the knot in your lower belly snapped once again.
Pain and pleasure filled cries filled the large room, your own eyes rolling back as red covered your vision, spotted with black, lightning and acid flowing down your veins as you were brought to the brink of insanity.
Izuku pulled out, thrusting into his hand for a split second before he came all over your belly, but he didn't have a second to bask in any afterglow, your pleasure filled cries soon morphing into intense pain as your body shut down, cells dying and being replaced by those much stronger.
You could feel yourself grow colder, you felt like you were being stabbed a million times over again, and there was nothing you could do about it.
The only comfort you had was him hugging you to him, whispering words you couldn’t comprehend as you screamed and fought against restraints.
Izuku lost count of how many minutes passed by slowly, his heart breaking with every cry you let out.
There was no other way, you knew this and you accepted this.
He would never leave you alone, not even as you thrashed about, accidentally kneeing him multiple times in the gut.
It took a painstakingly long ten minutes before you slowly calmed down, eyes fluttering shut as you fell lax in his protective hold.
The worst was done.
All he could do now was wait.
Again.
Morning came and went, and as expected, you had yet to wake.
Through the hours, Izuku stayed by your side, watching as your skin grew paler. It was a damn near painful sight, especially when blood dripped from your mouth from your fangs growing in.
It wasn't until the moon was high in the sky once more that your heart beat, of which continued to slow down as time went on, stopped.
Leaning over your body, now dressed in a nightgown, he stared at your features.
Your eyes moved beneath your lids, and his breath caught in his throat.
Red eyes soon stared back into his own, and he couldn't help but chuckle, despite the situation. He knew exactly what you felt.
“My, my, looks like someones hungry.”
318 notes · View notes
degenerate-otaku · 4 years ago
Text
Hey guys! This is a Future 17 X fem reader fic I wrote for a friend who didn't want to expose themselves as a simp.
please like and reblog if you enjoy and feel free to send a fic request if you want one, but keep in line it might take me a while, since I have a few to write rn.
♡♡♡
Warning: this fic contains smut
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There was almost silence in the barren city. Smoke poured into the cloudless sky on that Spring day, which felt warmer than normal. The only downside to that was that you and your family needed more water, so, being the oldest sibling, you went out to fetch water and food.
When entering an abandoned shop, with a stable enough roof, you thought you heard footsteps from inside.
“H-hello?” Your heart pounded.
“Is anyone there?” You looked around, careful not to tread on broken glass or anything useful as you continued walking towards a till, in the hopes that there was anything behind it, since the shelves seemed to have already been ransacked.
Then, someone popped up from behind the till, the sight of them making you tremble.
“Hello, miss...welcome to...whatever the fuck this store is called.” He chuckled, his icy eyes bereft of emotion.
This was Android 17, no doubts about it. You knew that whilst he appeared to be like a normal teenager, he was a cruel cyborg...yet there was something fascinating about him.
You wanted to run, but found yourself stuck to the ground, as if his cold glare had frozen you on the spot.
“Are you hungry?” He asked, almost invitingly. You wanted to nod, but your body still felt stiff.
“What's wrong? Are you...afraid?” His eyes scanned your body, then he smirked.
“You must be...you can't even muster a single word...” He stepped out from behind the till, his eyes not wandering for a second.
Suddenly, he grasped your chin in his hand, which was fairly small and warm...he didn't seem like a cold blooded killer at all. He kissed you, and you just couldn't resist. You couldn't even tell he was a cyborg at all, even when his tongue was in your mouth as you softly moaned. Then, there was a sharp, sudden electric shock, which coursed through your entire body.
He laughed as you recoiled, your hair slightly frizzed up from the jolt, and you remembered who you were dealing with again, returning you to a fearful state.
“Please don't-” You began.
“Kill you?” He cut you off. “Hmm...it would be a waste of a pretty human...I think you'd look much better as a moaning mess on my bed, rather than a blood splatter in an abandoned store...wouldn't you agree~?”
You blushed, realising what he meant. You knew he would kill you if you refused...but you didn't want to throw up at the thought of it, surprisingly, a part of you was rather curious to see how humanoid he was.
You found the strength to nod.
“I'm glad you think the same...whatever your name is.”
“It's Y/N...” You wondered where that courage came from.
“Y/N, huh? Cute...” He smiled, then lifted you up. Being too afraid to protest, you went along with it, letting him carry you as you flew to an extravagant mansion, holding tightly onto him.
Landing at the door, you wondered what kind of things he would do, hating that it somewhat excited you.
17 led you in. It was a huge building, but mostly a mess, with drink bottles, food wrappers and other junk lying around in most places, which didn't surprise you. The androids left most places in terrible states, why would they treat their home any better, especially when it was just some place they stole after killing the owners?
Grabbing you by the hand he dragged you upstairs, taking you into the master bedroom, which you imagined was his, due to the many games consoles on the floor and outfits in the wardrobe.
“Take your clothes off. Now.” He commanded and you did so, feeling a little self conscious and slightly whorish for doing this, besides, the androids had earned a reputation for being deadly beauties.
You stood, not staring him directly in the eyes, fully undressed for him. Glancing at him for a second, his eyes were full of desire, and you could see that he was hard already.
He then made a show of himself, slowly getting undressed for you. His body was not how you expected it to be. He was thin, and actually around the same height as you, and you couldn't help but notice he had some scars.
When he caught you staring at them, he told you to stop before he gave you scars of your own. He instructed you to pleasure him, so you tried to kiss him again and he bit your lip softly before you pulled away.
You decided to kiss his neck, sucking and licking it, then lightly kissed his defined collarbone down to his chest, where you decided to make a risky move by rubbing on and sucking his nipples making him moan gently, a sound you hadn't expected to hear from him but enjoyed.
For a moment you stopped, stunned he could even react in such a way, but he told you to keep going and you noticed how big his dick looked.
Dragging your tongue down his slender figure, all kinds of thoughts popped into your head. You decided to stroke his cock a few times, then use your mouth again, at first licking the tip, then the shaft, then placing your entire mouth around it, going rather slow, causing him to become impatient.
He grabbed your head and shoved his cock into your mouth, causing any sounds you made to be muffled. You sucked his dick, trying your best to please him, for fear of him becoming angry, but also because you hedonistically wanted to pleasure him, so you could earn it in return.
He was basically fucking your throat, his hips jerking involuntarily, God, he had nice hip bones, as well as good thighs, which you grabbed onto to brace yourself, your hands travelling up to his ass, when he suddenly came without warning, his hot seed spilling from your lips and pouring down your throat.
You cleaned his cock with your tongue and savoured the salty taste.
“Wow...someone's a slut~” He teased you, flicking your nose as you wiped your mouth clean. He didn't seem exhausted at all, even though he had blown his load in your mouth and there was a lot to swallow. He didn't even moan your name like you wanted, but you were uncertain if he even knew your name.
He ordered you to get on the bed, which you noted was soft and comfortable, unlike anything you had ever lay on. You rested your head on the pillow and spread your legs automatically when his body hovered over you. His arm pinned both your hands behind your head as he leaned close to your ear and said, “I know you aren't a virgin, you little whore...you better be a good girl, before I have to break you...I don't wanna break my new toy, though~”
“Won't...your sister hear us?” You weren't sure why this was at the forefront of your mind.
“18? No, she's out shopping or whatever...probably fucking someone too.”
Your heart raced as the tip of his dick touched your entrance.
“Beg for it~” He teased you again, rubbing his cock against your dripping wet pussy.
“Please, 17...I wanna be your fucktoy~” You moaned.
“Well...if you insist~” He chuckled lowly then thrusted his cock inside you, making you call out his name already. He was hard and rough, yet his cock was already deep within you.
You begged him for more, even though you could hardly think straight as your tits bounced and your back arched. He called you a dirty slut again and played with your tits, making you whine again.
He flipped you over so he could fuck you harder in another angle, his dick perfectly filling your hole.
"Fuck...you're so tight~“ He groaned as he jerked his hips forward again.
”I-I think I'm close-“ You were able to speak, but he spanked your ass, warning you, ”Not yet...you cum when I say so.“
You could tell you looked like a slut, with your back arched so much, and your eyes rolling up to the back of your head as you panted, trying not to orgasm.
Then he moaned again and with one final thrust, cummed inside you as you yelled his name, orgasming too.
His cum filled your insides and mixed with yours and ran down your inner thighs as he kept thrusting, slower this time, just to ride out the orgasm.
”Shit...no-one's made me cum so easily~“ He praised you just after pulling out.
You collapsed on the bed, your legs too weak and trembly to hold yourself up. Turning, you saw that his face was kind of red, but nowhere as near as your burning cheeks, and he didn't even pant heavily or waste time catching his breath.
He quickly gave you a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself up with and a pill. ”I don't want you getting pregnant...my sister would hate me.“ He remarked, giving you a glass of water to swallow it with.
As you got up and put your clothes back on, 17 went out of the room to get something. When he returned he had a bag full of food and water. The food was mostly snacks, but at least it was something edible and would last for a long time.
”Here's a gift, take it before I change my mind.“ You didn't expect such generosity from him. You sheepishly took the bag and he offered to fly you back to the city.
You agreed and advised him to land discreetly. On the flight, he began to talk to you.
”Just so you know...if I get the suspicion you've been with another man, I'll definitely find them...and kill 'em, got it?“
You nodded.
”Good girl...“ He praised you, making you feel warm inside. ”Now...when you go home...you can't tell anyone about this ok?“ You landed with him as he gave his final warnings.
”I will be back...“ He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, allowing his earring to twinkle in the pink glow of the sunset.
”I promise, Y/N.“
You had to hold back a gasp, but you clearly looked shocked.
”Hm?“ He raised an eyebrow.
”Nothing...I just really can't believe this...you aren't like the person I hear about at all...I didn't think you'd care to remember my name.“ You answered, feeling quite stupid for saying it aloud.
”Y/N...“ The name rolled off his tongue. ”Its fun to say...I wish my name was that nice.“ He smiled for a second, but then scowled, ”Don't get the wrong idea...“
17 turned, said goodbye plainly, then shot off into the distance.
You hoped his promise was genuine.
149 notes · View notes
lavenderboneswrites · 4 years ago
Note
it’s me, kitty 🥺
👉🏻👈🏻 Shizuo and Izaya having a self care day?
they try face masks, watch movies, do their nails, eat junk food, anything that comes to your mind 🥰
Maybe they even have a bubble bath together 👀👀
I LOVE YOU BB YOURE THE BEST 💖💖💖💖💘💘💘🥰🥰🥰
Of course my beloved got her request in first <3 <3 I hope you enjoy it bb, I tried to fit as much as your fav tropes in as I possibly could. Thank you for always supporting me and letting me share my ideas with you <3 <3
I Feel it Coming
Words: 5352
Rating: Explicit
Tags: smut and fluff, shizaya, established relationship, self-care day, possessive Shizuo, light dom/sub (please check AO3 for a comprehensive list of tags)
AO3
When Shizuo gets home Izaya is nowhere to be seen.
It’s been a long day of chasing down debts and deadbeats. Shizuo sighs as he toes off his shoes at the entrance and loosens the clip on bowtie. Making a trail up the stairs and to his bedroom, Shizuo pulls off his vest off along the way. He takes care to hang it gingerly on the hanger behind the door, certain he can get a few more wears out of this one before it needed washing.
He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, loosened buttons showing off a white undershirt and the hint of defined pectorals. Most of the lights in the apartment were on, the bedroom lit by low lamplight. Izaya is obviously around, and yet he normally greets Shizuo boisterously; often from his desk because he’s forgotten to stop working.
Shizuo untucks his shirt, slipping out of his pants and letting white fabric slip below his thighs. He’s thinking he needs a shower, or maybe he’ll just fall straight into bed, but he follows the sound of running water to the en suite.
Izaya really has a ridiculous apartment. His bathroom is off his bedroom, and if you pass through it you’ll find yourself in a large walk-in wardrobe. For someone who only wears the same ugly coat everyday Izaya sure has a lot of clothes. Shizuo’s not complaining, when Izaya wears that cream oversized turtleneck it does things to him.
Shizuo follows the rush of water to the bathroom. Steam clouds the air, mixed with a pleasant floral smell. It’s dark in here, the only light an illumination of candles on the basin and other various other spots. Water is filling the bath, a mix of bubbles and rose petals on the surface. Heated tiles warm Shizuo’s feet and he can’t help but feel the tension of the day lifting slightly at the relaxing atmosphere.
Until he almost has a heart attack.
Standing in the entrance to the wardrobe is a man with a white mask over his face.
Shizuo stumbles back, heart racing a million miles an hour as the figure emerges from the dark.
“What the fuck!?”
Shizuo clutches his hand in his shirt as he tries to force his rabbiting heart to calm down.
“You look like a fucking serial killer!”
He’s still trying to calm down from the shock as the masked man attempts a grin.
“Welcome home to you too, Shizu-chan.”
Izaya’s dressed in a maroon bathrobe and on his face is one of those stupid beauty masks he loves so much. Though, the serial killer look is slightly dampened by the fluffy white headband with cat ears Izaya wears to keep his hair back.
Izaya slinks up to him, arms going to wrap around his neck and Shizuo’s hands automatically go to his waist. It’s almost like a pavlovian response at this point.
“I’m not kissing you when you look like this,” Shizuo grumbles out to which Izaya replies with only a chuckle.
It’s disconcerting. The mask has holes for his mouth and eyes, and a slit for his nostrils, but other than that he looks completely macabre.
Shizuo ignores his own words when he allows Izaya to place a small peck on his lips.
“What’s all this?” Shizuo asks, rubbing circles into Izaya’s hips absentmindedly.
“Mm?” Izaya makes his usual noncommittal noise. “I thought Shizu-chan would like some pampering after a long day at work.”
Honestly, that sounds absolutely wonderful to Shizuo right about now. He eyes the bath off, noticing two glasses of lemon and mint infused water on the hob next to it. No doubt one of Izaya’s own ‘self-care’ creations.
Izaya doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive and a sprinkling of manipulation, Shizuo thinks with his eyes narrowing back to his currently psychotic looking boyfriend.
“What’s the catch?”
“My, my … can’t I just be doing something nice for my boyfriend?”
“No,” Shizuo deadpans back to Izaya’s fake as shit voice.
He attempts to pout, but he can’t move his face muscles well without messing up the mask.
“Boo Shizu-chan, you’re no fun.”
“And you’re a pest,” Shizuo says as Izaya hangs off him like some sort of dramatic leach.
Izaya leans his head back, giving an over top groan as if Shizuo’s inability to react in the way he wants is his greatest annoyance.
“Come on,” Shizuo leans closer, mouth almost touching skin as he whispers low into his ear. “The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you’ll get it, flea.”
Shizuo can feel the way the body in his arms tenses up momentarily, almost like a shiver going through him from the low tenor of Shizuo’s voice. Really, Izaya was pretty easy to handle once he learnt a few tricks.
One being that he was an incredibly horny fleabag.
Izaya is sliding his hands down Shizuo’s back, sweeping over the curve of his ass as he finds the hem of Shizuo’s shirt. He runs his fingers along the seam before sneaking under white fabric to press at his upper thigh.
“Hmm,” Shizuo pulls back to find copper eyes among a sea of white. Izaya’s hands on his skin are slightly distracting and just a little bit ticklish. “I want Shizuo to do a face-mask with me.”
“And?” Shizuo presses, digging the points of his thumbs into Izaya’s hips lightly.
“And have a bubble bath.”
Shizuo just pulls Izaya closer, pressing a swift kiss the crown of his head. “Alright louse, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”
Shizuo has a quick rinse off in the shower, afterwards changing into the navy bathrobe Izaya had brought to match his. It feels good to wash away the remnants of a long day, water beating down on his shoulders almost like a massage. Izaya’s shower had out of this world water pressure, honestly Shizuo was in love.
One face-mask later and the bath has finished filling. Steam is coming off the water, and Shizuo knows it’s still way too hot for either of them to get in. Though Izaya will probably try to early like always. He really was like some cold-blooded reptile, always trying to soak up as much heat as possible … usually from Shizuo himself.
Shizuo lets Izaya put his mask on. It was the best choice, considering the wet paper like cloth needed delicate handling and Shizuo would no doubt rip it immediately with his ‘monster’s paws’, as Izaya had said. He made sure to smack at Izaya with his monster paws for that comment.
The mask isn’t horrible. It’s wet and his vision is kind of obscured, and he doesn’t think it fits properly cause one side keeps curling down at his temple. Izaya had given him his own kitty ear headband to hold his fringe back, and the louse pesters him to take a few selfies together. Shizuo can’t help but snort at how ridiculous they look, kind of like a mannequin had a baby with a hockey mask.
They sit on the edge of the bathtub next to each other, sipping their drinks the best they can with the masks in the way. Shizuo eventually gets fed up and rips the sliver of paper between his nostrils and upper lip and Izaya almost chokes on his stupid lemon water laughing.
It’s cute.
It’s nice to just sit and talk, to take stock of each other’s day and catch up. Izaya plays footsies with him the entire time, and at one point Shizuo almost falls backwards into the bath trying to capture the louse’s calf between his feet.
Izaya’s hand is also rubbing once again against his thigh, sliding up under the material of his bathrobe. He massages his fingers into the muscles, pressing with precision into the knots hard enough to make Shizuo groan.
Izaya has a thing for his thighs. Shizuo doesn’t know why, but something about them makes the little pest go feral. They are thick and muscular, almost double the width of Izaya’s own legs and even if Shizuo didn’t see the appeal himself he’s happy to let Izaya have his fun.
Watching Izaya fuck himself against only his bare thigh really was a sight to behold.
After about ten minutes the face masks come off. Shizuo never could keep them on as long as Izaya; after a while it started to get too annoying and almost itchy. Still, Shizuo would be lying if he said it didn’t feel completely satisfying pealing the paper away from his skin.
He scrunches the mask into a ball, using it to rub the excess moisture of his face. Izaya folds his own mask much more neatly, leaning towards the mirror to inspect his skin as he wipes away any remaining excess.
Like every inch of that skin wasn’t flawless to begin with.
Shizuo rubs at his cheek, taking in how soft the mask has left his skin. He wasn’t that into self-care like Izaya was, but even he couldn’t deny these masks were magical.
Better was Izaya skin, which normally soft to the touch, became like silk under Shizuo’s fingertips. He can’t stop himself from reaching out, from cupping the flea’s cheek and rubbing his thumb against ivory skin.
It’s nice to finally see his unobscured face.
“Hey,” Shizuo’s turning that his to meet lips like satin in a soft kiss.
Izaya lets Shizuo set the pace to something slow and unhurried. He parts his mouth, tongue licking at the seam of Izaya’s lips before the other is turning to let him deepen the kiss further.
Shizuo licks into that wicked mouth with a careful consideration, letting Izaya’s taste flood over his tongue. There’s a hand twisting into the back of his hair and another once more kneading the flesh of his thigh.
Shizuo breaks the kiss slowly, dazzlingly eyes of whiskey alight with muted heat blinking softly back up at him.
“I’m home, Izaya.”
Izaya grins at the domestic phrase, rubs his nose against Shizuo’s and the little kiss is so cute that Shizuo can feel the tips of his ears go red.
“Welcome home, Shizu-chan.”
Izaya breath is like a whisper over his lips and Shizuo can’t help but mirror his smirk with a grin of his own.
Shizuo slips into the bath by himself, letting out a groan as the heat immediately relaxes the muscles in his back. It’s still way too hot. So hot that he can’t help but shiver, heat skittering almost painfully over sensitive nerve endings. And yet it feels like heaven, all of the tension flooding out of his body after a long day. He closes his eyes, letting his head lie back on the hob as he just soaks in the moment.
The patter of feet signal Izaya’s return. Shizuo opens one eye to see him standing before him with those same kitty ears and nothing else.
Izaya’s body is stunning. He’s lean and long limbed, but there’s a subtle grace to the way he holds himself. Shizuo always thinks of him as some kind of jungle panther. Light-footed. Slinking around like a predator. His waist is slim, and yet there is slight definition around his muscles, and his ass-, shit, his ass is a gift from God. Chasing the flea all those years had definitely paid off for him; and Shizuo was happy to enjoy the spoils too.
Izaya places a hand to Shizuo’s bicep as he steadies himself and steps into the water. Shizuo’s arm comes up to the small of his back automatically, ready to catch him at the first sign of a slip, but knowing Izaya it wasn’t necessary.
The flea slips into the space between Shizuo’s parted legs and leans back against his muscled chest. He lets out a little sigh as he submerges himself into the water up to his shoulders, obviously enjoying the heat sinking deep into his body just as Shizuo had. The noise is nice, something breathless and almost non-existent, something Shizuo is so attuned to he thinks he can almost hear it in his head rather than any physical sound.
Izaya’s leans his head back against his shoulder and Shizuo can’t help but wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him tighter against his front.
Izaya body fits perfectly against his, and not for the first time Shizuo is certain that flea was made for him.
The candles flicker with steam, and Shizuo thinks he could fall asleep right here and now.
Fwua!
A loud slapping sound breaks through his peace and Shizuo can feel giggles vibrating through Izaya’s back.
Opening his eyes again, Shizuo is met with the sight of Izaya scooping bubbles into his hands. He smacks them together quickly, the bubbles exploding into the air with his delighted giggles.
It’s too fucking cute.
“What are you, four?”
Izaya answers by twisting his neck to look over at Shizuo, a hand of foam raised and Shizuo’s barely has time to raise an eyebrow before bubbles are being blown into his face.
“Oi,” Shizuo hacks a cough, swallowing a great deal more soap than he ever wanted to. His eye twitches at the cheeky look in Izaya’s eyes and his grouchy tone really doesn’t match his own fond smile.
“Do you want me to drown you in this tub?”
Izaya pouts, “Shizu-chan don’t be mean.”
The pout cracks as his lips twitch up at the corners. Water splashes, the flea suddenly turning around fully and scooping up more bubbles.
“Shizu-chan let’s make you a bubble beard.”
“Haaah?”
“Haaah?” Izaya mocks, “come on old man.”
“I’m younger than you,” Shizuo quips back, trying to grab skinny wrists that keep trying to slap foam to his chin.
Wasn’t this supposed to be relaxing!?
Izaya’s attempts don’t ease up and he giggles as a ball of bubbles land delicately on Shizuo’s nose.
He narrows his eyes at his nose, as if the bubbles have personally offended him, and before Izaya can even get a yelp out Shizuo is shoving his head underwater.
Water goes over the sides of the tub and Izaya’s arms splash comically as Shizuo’s entire palm covers the crown of his head. He only gives it a few seconds before he lets up.
Izaya pops back up, hair sopping and stuck to his forehead as his kitty headband hangs pathetically around his neck. He splutters and coughs, attempting to glare at Shizuo as he rubs at his eyes.
Shizuo only gives a cocky raise of one eyebrow, as if to say ‘you started it’.
“Did you just try to drown me?” Izaya asks, his outrage fake as shit.
“You wanna go back under?” Shizuo threatens, but the tone is ruined by his wide smile.
Izaya grins, one shoulder coming up in a half-hearted shrug. He pulls off the headband around his neck, pouting at the state it’s in before flinging it over the side of the tub to the floor.
A glint flashes in Izaya’s eyes. It’s the only warning Shizuo gets before two hands are pressing down onto his head.
Shizuo plants his feet firmly on the bottom of the tub to stop from sliding, and Izaya’s wicked looked turns disappointed as Shizuo doesn’t budge an inch.
“Oi.”
Izaya’s eyes narrow into a look of determination, and he even gets to his knees as he tries to add even more force to Shizuo’s head.
“Why, won’t, you, die?”
Shizuo answers by letting himself suddenly slip under the water. The sudden loss of purchase has Izaya floundering and Shizuo swears he can hear him yelp through water.
Shizuo almost swallows an obscene amount of bath water from laughing before he pops back up. Izaya has slumped atop of him, arms around his neck as he holds his own head above water as if to keep himself from completely submerging.
Shizuo likes that. The way Izaya will always grab onto him, cling to him, whenever he loses his footing.
“Shizu-chan is so mean. Jail for a thousand years!”
Shizuo just chuckles, pushing Izaya’s fringe away from his forehead as he looks at him. He’s doing the face Shizuo loves, the one where his nose scrunches up oh so cutely. Shizuo loves that face, he wants to hoard it all to himself and never let anyone else see it.
If it got out Izaya was this cute Shizuo’s sure he’d have to beat off interested parties with a sick.
Mine.
Shizuo sits himself up, shaking his head like a dog to get the water out of his hair. Izaya squirms in his arms, but he doesn’t let go. Instead he manhandles the flea back into the same position they started in, with his back pressed to Shizuo’s chest, sitting between his legs.
There, Shizuo thinks triumphantly, Izaya’s wriggling getting less and less by the minute. He squeezes his thighs around the flea’s hips, wrapping his legs over the top of Izaya’s until he’s practically in a joint lock.
He’s really no match for Shizuo’s superior strength when it comes down to it. Still, it didn’t stop Izaya from trying to wrestle him daily.
“Have you calmed down you damn water rat?”
“Hmm,” Izaya hums as if he has no idea what Shizuo’s talking about. “Shouldn’t I be a water flea? Shizu-chan don’t you know it’s bad to mix metaphors?”
Shizuo just snorts at such a bratty response.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Izaya relents and relaxes back into his body and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against the back of his neck.
“You’re ridiculous,” Shizuo snorts into his skin, and he doesn’t need to see to know that Izaya is smirking.
He lets his lips and hands do the rest of the talking. Soft kisses trailing from Izaya’s neck to his shoulder and back again. He rubs his hands at the flea’s sides, making a path up and down slowly as he maps out every inch of creamy skin.
Izaya makes that soundless noise again, lips parted slightly as closes his eyes, focusing on sensation of Shizuo’s hands and lips on him. Shizuo’s touch is light, almost ticklish as he brushes fingertips across Izaya’s ribs, the water turning his path slick and easy.
Shizuo kisses are barely a press of lips to skin, so soft that it’s only the feel of his breath blowing out that makes Izaya’s skin erupt into goosebumps. Shizuo watches fascinated as that alabaster skin reacts before his very eyes.
Izaya’s got the faintest of freckles splayed across his shoulders, almost impossible to see unless this close. Shizuo loves to pick out each individual mark, a constellation of stars for his mouth to trace and follow. To worship and pay tribute to.
Shizuo rubs his hands from Izaya’s sides down to his hips, thighs, and back up again to his waist. Every time he trails down he moves a little bit further. Inch by torturous inch he teases skin until Izaya starts to squirm a little.
Heh.
Shizuo’s grin is wicked as he presses it under Izaya’s ear. His lips move up to brush against his pulse point and Izaya lifts his chin to allow Shizuo greater access.
Shizuo’s chuckle spills over skin for real and shivers are erupting once more over Izaya’s skin.
“Mmm?” Shizuo whispers a questioning noise, hands dipping past the heated flesh at Izaya’s inner thigh. “You like that flea?”
Izaya does a little jerk of his head, eyes closed and it really is too cute.
“Does it feel good?”
Shizuo breath is hot at his ear before he gives a playful nip to the flesh. He can feel the way Izaya’s breath hitches, the motion going through his back and making Shizuo’s own chest thrum with something primal and satisfied.
Shizuo’s rubbing his foot against Izaya’s calf muscle, feeling the way he squirms at the touch.
“What’s wrong?” Shizuo cheeks actually hurt from how wide he’s smiling. “Do you not like it?”
Izaya’s head shakes, the action almost frantic, and Shizuo rewards him by sliding the flat of his tongue over the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet.
His skin tastes clean and fresh, and Shizuo feels his mouth salivating with the desire to bite into that milky flesh. To see it bruised dark with his claim. He holds off though, content with just feeling Izaya beneath his hands, feeling the way his breathing goes a little faster at every dip closer to that heat between his legs.
“Does it feel good when I touch here?” Shizuo brushes his fingertips over Izaya’s ribs, taking in every little shudder as he whispers into his lover’s ear. “What about when I touch here?”
Shizuo’s hands trail inwards, and Izaya’s lips are parting in a gasp as his knuckles brush against the side of his cock.
“Ah, is there someone you want me to touch you flea?”
Shizuo rubs his fingers between Izaya’s thighs just above his knees, so close and yet so far, if the little whimper that escapes his lips is any indication.
Shizuo feels like an addict. There is just something about having Izaya in his arms, squirming and desperate for his touch and just … taking his time with him.
Dragging it out nice and slow.
Shizuo continues licking and sucking at the flea’s neck. Izaya has his hand trapped between his legs in a vice grip, and yet Shizuo still continues his slow, sweet touches.
He lets his touches turn rougher, digs bruises into pale skin as he sucks harshly on that spot beneath Izaya’s ear; the spot that makes him moan open-mouthed.
“Shizuo.”
His name is like a prayer on Izaya’s lips. Breathless and needy. Shizuo doesn’t know whether he’s begging for him to stop or begging for him to keep going, either way the sound sinks deep into his gut.
“Shizuo please.”
Shizuo’s grin goes impossibly wide, mouth gaping like a predator’s with its prey in its grasp. His lips find Izaya’s earlobe. He pulls the flesh into his mouth and sucks harshly.
It’s a dizzying juxtaposition. Wrenching his hand from Izaya’s thigh-crush, Shizuo grazes the tips of fingers over the head of his cock, the softest, slowest touch all night and it makes Izaya jolt.
“Fuck.”
Shizuo sucks hard at the flea’s neck, finger tips trailing down his shaft and to his navel. He rubs at the soft flesh there, relishing in the annoyed whine that Izaya makes as he moves away from his reddened cock.
“Shizuo,” he can hear the pout in Izaya’s voice.
“Look at you,” Shizuo releases Izaya’s ear with a wet sound, “I haven’t even played with your tits yet and this worked up.”
That whine becomes louder, more painful if possible, as if Izaya’s gritting his teeth together.
“Shizuo you better fucking touch me or I’m going to destroy all your stupid bartender outfits.”
It’s astounding. Izaya’s gripping his wrist so tightly Shizuo’s sure there will be indents of his nails left behind. How is it possible for him to still sound like such a vicious little thing when he’s desperately trying to put Shizuo’s unbudging hand to his leaking cock?
“Oi,” Shizuo growls low and Izaya’s body shivers fully at the sound. “Do you want me to drown you again?”
“Heh,” Izaya lips are quirking up, eyes hooded as he speaks out like silk and satin, “if you drown me there won’t be anyone around to suck your cock.”
Shizuo should’ve expected this. Expected Izaya would try to play dirty.
He was the definition of little brat that needed to be put in their place. Still, the words make his own dick jump, and he can’t help but press his erection harder into the swell of Izaya’s ass in warning.
“Oh?” Shizuo lets his tenor lilt upwards, “you wanna suck my cock that bad flea?”
Izaya snorts, and Shizuo can’t help but rub his nose against his neck in an overly affectionate gesture.
“Hey Shizu-chan,” Izaya’s turning his face, lips meeting lips in a sweet brush as he releases his death grip on Shizuo’s wrist.
Shizuo stares into dark, deep eyes; lets himself drown as Izaya presses his forehead to his.
“Yeah flea?”
Izaya eyes close, his mouth turning soft as he gives one of those rare smiles reserved just for Shizuo.
Shizuo’s eyes slip close, Izaya in his arms and his breath spilling across his face in a steady rhythm. It’s like an abstract concept become physical, a peace that Shizuo can literally hold within his hands.
Izaya dips his head to Shizuo’s neck, lips against skin as he whispers.
“I want you to tell me how badly I want to suck your cock … while you touch me.”
Shizuo’s eyes blow wide. His smile is going predator-like before he can even realise it.
Izaya was absolutely perfect.
Shizuo pulls Izaya’s body back with his, getting comfortable as Izaya settles himself in against his hold, nuzzling into his neck. Shizuo can’t help but shower his back in soft kisses.
“You want me to talk you through it baby?” Shizuo asks, letting his voice go softer. He’s cock is aching as Izaya shivers at the pet name. He forces it to the back of his mind, focus zeroing in on the body in his arms. “You look so good right now.”
Izaya just sighs and Shizuo rewards him with a kiss to his lips. It’s chaste and sweet, with the promise of something hotter simmering just beneath the surface.
He lets his hands slide through the water and up that irresistible body once more. This time when snakes his hand downwards he palms at Izaya’s cock lightly.
“Aah,” Izaya’s lets out this little moan, relief and pleasure all in one. As if not being touched had been painful, had been torture.
“That feel good? Being touched here?” Shizuo whispers a sonnet against Izaya’s neck. His eyes are wide open, mesmerized as he palms his hand with more force against the flea’s cock.
His hot in his palm, positively boiling compared to the cooling temperate of the water surrounding them. Shizuo enjoys the feel of him in his hands. Hot and heavy. Izaya has a nice cock, it’s long, not as thick as Shizuo’s but it curves nicely and his mouth waters at the sight of it.
“You’ve got such a pretty cock … for such an ugly flea.”
Izaya actually chuckles at the underhanded compliment and Shizuo feels himself flush at the sound.
Izaya was anything but ugly.
Shizuo’s certain even the most wicked of devils would repent at the beauty of his flea.
Mine, mine, mine.
Shizuo lets his touch stay slow and steady, matching his earlier exploration of Izaya’s body. He closes his fist around the shaft experimentally, the water making his slow pull even rougher.
Izaya’s head is thrown fully back onto his shoulder now. Eyes closed as he pants open-mouthed. His hips are doing these cute little jerk, moving in time with Shizuo’s hand, and every brush of his ass against Shizuo’s cock makes him want to groan out loud.
“Look at you, I bet you’re imagining it aren’t you?” Shizuo fists the head of Izaya’s cock with the barest of pressure and the other is whimpering. “My cock in your mouth … the taste of me on your tongue.”
“Ah-ah.”
Shizuo’s pace is increasing, fist going tighter as his words climb higher.
“You look so good with your mouth stuffed with my cock, baby,” Shizuo’s whispers are turning harsh in his ears. “God you feel so good around me. So wet.”
Shizuo’s eyes are closing and he can feel it. That warm wet heat enveloping him, almost overwhelming in its sensation.
“You want it so badly don’t you? Tell me how badly you want my cock.”
“Y-yes!” Izaya’s voice comes out high pitched and desperate. “I-, I want your cock … I-I need it.”
Shizuo rubs his hard dick against the crack of Izaya’s ass, in time with the flea’s desperate thrust. His lips are wet and wide against Izaya’s neck, kisses turning careless as he sucks and bites with abandon. Izaya’s body is going taunt in his arms, toes curling against the tub, abdominals clenching so tight it almost looks painful. His body is on the edge of trembling, pulled so tight Shizuo can feel that tension almost about to snap.
“Fuck baby,” Shizuo lets his voice go rough, lets it go needy.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Shizuo gives a feral growl, Izaya’s squirming and splashing in his arms as he sets a relentless pace against his cock. Shizuo twists his fist as he pulls up, water sloshing over the sides at his frantic pace. He fists the head tightly, twisting in a way that makes Izaya keen out like he’s been kicked in the gut.
“N-need you, fuck I need you baby.”
“Ah-, ah-, Shizuo!”
Shizuo’s desperation sends Izaya over the edge. The body in his arms tenses, like an electric current is running through it and then he’s shaking apart, moaning long and loud as Shizuo strokes him through his orgasm, never letting up as his cock spurts white into water.
He keeps stroking him. Izaya’s breathing is ragged as he collapses boneless atop Shizuo.
Eventually he slows his motions, letting his hand come to a steady stop as he feels all the little aftershocks shivering through the body in his arms. Izaya’s eyes are closed and Shizuo thinks he might have fucked him stupid.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Oi,” Shizuo presses a kiss to Izaya’s temple. “Don’t fall asleep flea.”
Shizuo can’t keep the smile out his voice. He has literal perfection in his arms, had that same perfection coming and calling out his name. His heart feels fit to burst…
His cock definitely is.
“Mm, Shizu-chan is such a sadist,” Izaya finally mumbles a response. He sounds dazed, like he’s intoxicated and on the verge of blacking out.
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re such a masochist then, huh?” Shizuo says between kisses to the smattering of stars over Izaya’s shoulder.
“Hmm,” Izaya’s eyes are cracking open, staring unseeing at the ceiling as he brushes a hand through the water absentmindedly. “The bath is dirty now.”
Shizuo snorts, “and who made it dirty, louse?”
“Shizu-chan should take responsibility, after all, it’s all his fault,” Izaya quips back, turning to press a smirk into Shizuo’s neck.
“Youbetter take responsibility,” Shizuo grumbles, pressing his still raging erection against Izaya’s backside in case he’d somehow forgotten about it.
Unlikely.
“But I’m tired,” Izaya whines pathetically, and Shizuo half kind of wants to drown him again. “Shizu-chan’s torture was relentless!”
Shizuo chuckles at that, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and into Izaya’s back.
“Surprised you just didn’t slip it in mid torture,” Izaya lilts with his usually vulgarity and yeah Shizuo should definitely drown him.
“Too tired,” Shizuo deadpans, “you do some work flea.”
“Heh, be careful what you wish for Shizu-chan.”
They end up in bed, barely dry as Izaya’s swallows down Shizuo’s cock like a man starving. Shizuo’s exhausted, splayed out on the bed as he hovers blissfully between the edge of sleep and the pleasure of Izaya’s hot mouth wrapped around him.
It doesn’t take long for him to come. Not long until he’s body is shaking apart and he’s calling Izaya’s name. He trembles as Izaya sucks him dry of every, last, drop.
Shizuo feels hazy, his skin hypersensitive from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He’s drifting off to sleep, Izaya snuggling in beside him and pulling the blanket up.
“Shizu-chan has tomorrow off, right?” Izaya asks innocently, and Shizuo thinks he brushes his hand through the flea’s hair but he’s not quite sure in his half-awake daze.
“Yeah.”
“Will Shizu-chan make me breakfast?”
Shizuo’s eyes are slipping closed again, the sight of Izaya tucked under his arm and snuggling into his neck the last thing he sees.
“Yeah flea,” he’s mumbling in his sleep, “do … anything…”
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the-slasher-files · 4 years ago
Text
REQUEST: Jason - 58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 78) “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” 93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” - @brahmsyboi​
ALRIGHTY let’s do this.. your first time with Jason.. be prepared for much softness, praise and coaxing, with a hint of blood :) also includes thigh riding, hair pulling, and giving him a bj... enjoy🔪💕
MASTERLIST
CREATURE COMFORT
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WORD PROMPT: “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”  “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” AND “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.”
Gentle rain beat down against the old glass widows off the cabin, running off in small streams and plopping into murky puddles in the mud. You were sat on the scratchy couch, watching the deer graze on the low hanging branches and small bushes in the rain. This place was bliss, and it surprised you daily with all the small things that could never be possible in the city.
A creature sat to your left beside you, taking in your beauty and adoring the way the gentle light caressed your features. He never thought, not once that he would be with someone, let alone someone that was so gentle and kind to him. You knew what he was but you loved him and accepted Jason through and through. 
A large damaged hand softly brushed your thigh, drawing your eyes to his one remaining azure eye hidden slightly by the hockey mask. Smiling at the large man he signed ‘do you know how beautiful you are?’ 
You honestly didn’t know how a man that carried the burden of being “the ruthless killer of camp crystal lake” could be so soft and sweet with the ones he loved. Crawling over to Jason’s large lap, he guided your small hips along, making sure you would never fall and showing his over protective side. Once straddling the creature he signed once more ‘It’s truly distracting’ making you giggle.
Even though you sat in his lap Jason still towered over you making you stretch your neck to kiss the plastic he dawned, covering his scarred features. “How are you so sweet, my love?” Making yourself more comfortable on Jason’s lap something stirred in his stomach and went straight to in between his legs, pulling a little grunt from him, maybe from embarrassment or excitement. Noticing your lovers subtilties you moved your small hands to cup Jason’s tense jaw, placing little kisses along the mask, never forcing him to take it off unless he wanted to himself. 
Although you and the masked killer had been together for a while, you had never done the ‘deed’ yet, and you were not going to push Jason knowing the whole reason why he kills anyway, but you were growing anxious. Your hands were only going to satisfy you for so long, especially when you lived a huge hunk of man. Slowly you grinding your hips against him, hoping and praying tonight was the night. Fuck you needed him so badly. 
“Baby, it’s ok... just relax” You whispered feeling Jason stiffen underneath you, hands lazily held your hips not knowing what to do. The man was still a virgin after all; when alive he was too young for sex and in his ‘afterlife’ Jason was only focused on revenge until you stumbled into his world. 
“My sweet sweet boy, it’s ok... it is natural do feel this way... it is just fine to have sex and it feels so good, Jason.” You praised. There had been more than a few times you got hot and heavy with the creature beneath you and he often fled into the woods, even if you tried to explain and coax, doing all you could to make sure Jason was comfortable but it was a constant war in his head. 
Running your small hands along his scarred massive body, shoulders broad, chest rising and falling slowly, feeling large muscles tense then ease then tense again from your soft touch. Your lover was a myth, a man, a beast, dead and alive all wrapped in one force of nature. It turned you on knowing you had all that tangled between your fingers. That and the friction of fabric along your increasingly wet heat made you moan. 
“Baby J... please?” you asked softly looking up at Jason’s wide eye, not knowing if he would toss you off him or let you finish. The man just nodded slowly and his grip tightened on your waist giving you the intense friction you needed. Your moaning got louder and your breath hitched as a burning coil fired up low in your stomach. Jason knew what you needed so he began to help guide you against his almost fully erect length, moving his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling the vibrations of your moaning and panting. “Oh, Jason.. god, so good... J” with a few more thrusts you met your climax, more intense than usual given the fact that you were against the man that you yearned so much for.
Your hand moved to cradle Jason’s head against you, trying to slow your breathing and control your shakes. He felt everything, needing more but feeling too much guilt and embarrassment to move. “Thank you baby.. Jason thank you” Praising him slowly made him ease and pull away, back now against the couch looking down at your small frame coming down from the high. You were beautiful. 
“I love you baby..” you kissed the mangled jaw trailing down to his thick neck and down his chest, but he grunted almost in a protest as your hands found there way to his belt. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you... baby it’s ok.. I promise” 
Snaking away from his grip, your knees met the rustic hardwood, your hands slowly undid Jason’s belt just watching the large man above you. His eye darkened but was wide like an owls, large hands balled up in fists exposing some bone from the unhealed flesh and large veins running the bulking forearms. Feeling the girth painfully pressed against his worn jeans, you released the member free with a small gasp. You knew Jason was big, but fuck, he was so big. A good 8 inches and thick, circumcised with a large head and a vein that ran from base to tip, the slit weeping slow with precum.
“Fuck you’re so big Jason” you spoke noticing the man shuttering as you grasped his cock. “Good boy.. just relax” Taking a long lick on the underside from base to tip, he tensed at the feeling having never experienced this before. Opening your mouth you took him, softly sucking the tip and moving slowly down the shaft, while your hand worked at the base. Jason grunted deep and low, placing his massive hand on the back of your head, gentle messaging your scalp. Pulling your mouth as far down as you could on his hard length gagging on it, then pulling away repeating the process. It was a size you were going to have to train your gag reflex to relax on. 
Your lover groaned throwing his head back and his grip tightened on your hair, not realizing his own strength he probably yanked out a few of your hairs, but you didn’t mind, he was feeling an intense pleasure he had never felt before. Lewd noises filled the room as your mouth sucked up and down, spit trailing down your chin and his thigh, and tears burning in your eyes. You felt a twitch in Jason’s cock and he gripped hard on your hair, pushing you down on the length making you choke and gag, one large thrust into your mouth, a loud groan came from behind the mask and the white hot seed filled your mouth flowing down your throat. Pulling away with a pop of your mouth you swallowed his load, really making you his. 
“What a good boy Jason... good boy” The large hand released your head, and the man looked down at you, half lidded eye meeting yours, he panted as you smiled taking in his state. Jason pulled his hand to cup your jaw but quickly sat up straight and took his hand away noticing some pulled out hair tangled in his large fingers and some blood on the tips. “No, no, no baby. It’s ok...” you messaged Jason’s powerful thighs trying to ease him. “Jason, it’s fine I promise...” taking in his shocked expression as if he had just stabbed you with his machete and watched you bleed out. “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.”
Grasping his hands you pulled them down and kissed each knuckle and whispering praise and sweet nothings. “I love you baby” 
The creature pulled up his mask revealing the damaged face, leaning down towards you capturing his rough lips against yours. Jason’s way for saying ‘I love you too’     
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