#have you ever met a calm husky
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BY THE WAY before I go to sleep, nobody asked but I decided when I draw them as furries, Klavier and Kristoph are huskies. I knew I wanted them to be canines because I really wanted to draw Klavier and Apollo's first meeting but furry Klavier’s tail is wagging (i very specifically want to animate this with Apollo's inner dialogue saying something like "His tail is wagging way too fast for a first meeting"). While I was thinking about this I was like "hmm. Klavier has husky vibes, and Kristoph as a husky would keep this opposites thing I want to do where Klavier’s behavior is expected of the animal he is while Kristoph's would catch someone off guard" so they're huskies.
#i remembered huskies like screaming then remembered apollo calling klavs music “loud” and ran with that#but also klavier has husky energy#sorry for any typos btw. its 2am and im not wearing my glasses lol#ace attorney#furry ace attorney#klavier gavin#kristoph gavin#also for anyone like “what do you mean by kristophs behavior being unexpected from a husky”#have you ever met a calm husky
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warm.
warnings: long chapter but i think you like them
genre: fluff, cuddle session
summary:A cuddle session with your needy boyfriend is just more than enough.
author's note:I know i've been inactive these days but with school and everything it's just impossible😔...but here you go this fluffy and comforting one -shot that i hope you'll like! If you have any other fluff idea about Jude or any other player that i write for please let me know!🤍 ( i need to write fluff these days...)Plus please don't ask about the third pic please...
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“C’mere,” Jude murmured, his arms open wide, just for you.
You stood in the doorway, watching him sprawled out on the bed, his head propped up on one arm, the other patting the empty spot beside him. His eyes met yours, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Without a word, you walked over, crawling under the covers next to him. Before you could fully settle in, he was already pulling you close. His arms wrapped snugly around your waist, pulling you against his chest, your legs tangling under the blankets.
“You’re warm,” you mumbled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, the familiar scent of him immediately soothing.
Jude chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Good, because you’re always cold,” he teased, his fingers tracing slow patterns across your back. “You’re like a little human ice block.”
You laughed softly, nudging him with your knee. “Rude.”
“Just being honest,” he said with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “But lucky for you, I’m always warm, so it works out.”
You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the kind where no words were needed. His fingers continued their lazy journey along your spine, the rhythm of his breathing steady and soothing.
After a few moments, you felt him shift beneath you, his hand sliding down to your hip as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Missed you today,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
His words were soft, almost like an afterthought, but they made your heart swell. You smiled against his neck, your breath warm against his skin.
“I missed you too,” you murmured back, your voice quiet, almost as if you didn’t want to disturb the peaceful bubble that had formed around the two of you. You shifted a little, resting your head more comfortably against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. It was a rhythm you had grown to love, one that never failed to calm you.
Jude’s arms tightened around you ever so slightly, like he was afraid you might slip away if he didn’t hold on just a little closer. His hand moved up to your hair, fingers threading through the soft strands in gentle strokes. You could feel the quiet affection in his touch—unhurried and patient, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.
You melted at his touch, leaning into him as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, soft and lingering. There was something about the way Jude kissed you, like he had all the time in the world, like nothing else mattered but the moment you were in.
His lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a series of gentle kisses that made your heart race just a little faster. You sighed contentedly, your fingers slipping into his curls, twirling the soft strands between your fingertips.
“You always do that,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
“Do what?” you whispered back, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“That,” he breathed, his hand sliding down to your hip, his thumb gently tracing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “You play with my hair when you think I’m asleep.”
You chuckled softly, your fingers stilling for a moment before brushing another curl away from his forehead. “I like the way it feels,” you admitted, your voice quiet, almost shy.
Jude hummed, a deep sound of contentment vibrating through his chest. “I like when you do it,” he whispered, his lips brushing the skin just below your jaw. “Feels nice.”
You smiled against his skin, your fingers continuing their gentle motions. Jude’s thumb sketched lazy circles on your hip, and you could feel his breathing slow, as if he was on the edge of falling asleep. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional sigh from him. Your fingers continued their slow dance through his hair, your mind wandering to how easy this felt, being wrapped up in him, his presence always so steady and reassuring.
After a while, Jude’s voice broke the silence again, this time softer, almost like he wasn’t fully awake. “Stay like this… don’t move.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered back, leaning in to press a kiss against his collarbone.
He exhaled softly, his arms tightening just a fraction around you, as if he wanted to keep you even closer than you already were. It was in moments like this that you realized how much he craved the quiet, the stillness.
“I mean it,” he murmured after a beat, his voice low and drowsy. “Don’t want to fall asleep if you’re not here.”
You smiled at his words, feeling the warmth in your chest grow even more. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, but it never failed to tug at your heart. Jude had a way of making the simplest moments feel like they held the entire world. His need for you wasn’t loud or overwhelming, but quiet and steady, like the beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated softly, shifting slightly to tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes were half-closed, his lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks, and his lips were curled into that soft, lazy smile you adored.
He blinked slowly, eyes barely open, but you could still see the glint of affection in them. “Good,” he murmured, his thumb resuming its slow, rhythmic circles on your hip. “Because if you did, I’d have to chase you down.”
A laugh bubbled up from your chest at the thought. “You? Chase someone down? You can barely get out of bed in the morning.”
Jude huffed, his sleepy smile widening into a grin. “I’d chase you for sure. Might take me a while, but I’d get there eventually.”
You giggled, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him with a playful gleam in your eyes. “Oh yeah? How long do you think it’d take you?”
He squinted as if he were seriously considering the question, his fingers still idly tracing patterns along your back. “Depends on how fast you’re running. If you’re sprinting, maybe an hour. If you’re walking, I’d say… ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes? You think I’m that slow?” You gasped in mock offense, gently poking him in the side.
Jude’s body shook with quiet laughter as he caught your hand and pulled it to his chest, keeping it there. “Nah, it’s not that you’re slow, it’s just that I’d be really motivated. I’d catch you quicker than you think.”
“Oh, so you’d be fast for me?” you teased, your smile widening as you watched the way his eyes crinkled at the edges.
“For you? I’d be unstoppable,” he replied with a sleepy confidence, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Nothing could keep me from catching you.”
You felt a soft blush rise to your cheeks at his words, and you buried your face back into the crook of his neck to hide it. Jude always knew how to say the right thing, even when he was half-asleep. It wasn’t fair.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled into his skin, your lips brushing against his collarbone.
“And you love it,” he teased, his voice low and warm.
You smiled against his neck. “Maybe.”
“Not maybe. Definitely,” he said with a lazy grin, and you could feel the rumble of his laugh in his chest. “You definitely love it.”
You huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Jude had a way of getting under your skin, but in the best possible way. He was right—you did love it. You loved the way he teased you, the way he made you laugh, the way he held you like you were something precious. It was all so easy with him, so natural.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, your voice muffled by his neck.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “I know. That’s why I get away with so much.”
You lifted your head just enough to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so you admit it? You know you get away with stuff?”
Jude gave you an exaggeratedly innocent look, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress a grin. “Who, me? I’m an angel.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “An angel, huh? You’re more like a menace.”
He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d wounded him. “A menace? That’s harsh. I’m deeply offended.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled at the sight of him being so playful, so at ease. Moments like this, where it was just the two of you tangled up in each other, teasing and laughing, made you realize how lucky you were to have him. He made everything better, even the quiet moments.
“Okay, fine. You’re not a menace,” you conceded, resting your head back on his chest. “But you’re definitely not an angel either.”
“I’ll take that,” Jude murmured, his hand drifting back to your hair, his fingers resuming their gentle strokes. “As long as you’re here, you can call me whatever you want.”
You didn’t need to say anything else, didn’t need to fill the silence with more teasing or banter. Just being here with him was enough ,more than enough.
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#x reader#jude bellingham#fanfic#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham blurb#jb5#rma#bellingham#rmcf#bellingham latest#bellingham x reader#jude#x you fluff#x reader fluff#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham one shot#one shot#x fem!reader#comforting fic
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I read your “open relationship” post. And let me say, it reminded me of that one Reddit post where the husband asked his wife for an open relationship. The wife didn’t like it but agreed anyways, for months he was sleeping and bringing people home and the wife stayed far away from that as possible until she met a guy. He treated her right and she brought him home, they did the deed and the husband was curious and jealous on who his wife was seeing. Then he demanded that they closed their relationship- the wife ends up leaving the husband and loves happily ever after with the new guy☺️ maybe write something on that with Simon being the new guy?
implied nsfw
you roll your eyes as you see your "husband" enter your home with a girl. a sigh leaves your mouth as you stand up from the couch and grab a bottle of wine and go sit on the porch. you are tired of this, you never wanted this. but here you are, all because you wanted to make the excuse of a man you used to call husband happy.
and as the weeks go by you grow tired of the moans, the strangers in your home, the missing food on the fridge and the way that pathetic man thought he still deserved your love.
one day, at the supermarket your cars tire deflated, you panic and looking for the tools to change it, not that you really know how to do it. as you pace around your car with an anxious look on your face a low and husky voice sounds behind you. "need help?" your eyes widen and you turn around, looking up at the giant guy infront of you. the blonde guy looked calm, a big bag of food in one hand and a car key on his other. "i-... yeah"
he helped you, taking the tools from his car and changing your tire, he was a bit quiet but not mean. he answered all your questions, whats his name, when did he learned to change tires, bla bla bla. he spoke softly, not a single drop of sweat on his body after he was done with the job.
"there ya' go, sweetheart. good as new." he said as he patted the top of the car. your cheeks couldnt help but turn red. "thank you so much, i dont know how to repay you."
"ye' don't have to." he was putting the tools into their box, you panicked, not wanting him to leave, wanting an excuse to see him again. "i make good pies!"
"pies?" he looks at you, tilting his head. "yeah, i woul like to make one for you... as a thank you." a small smile paint your face, you see him smirk slightly. "m'kay, a pie sound good. give me yer number."
since that day simon became very close to you, he was all you wanted. a gentleman on the streets (and kn the sheets too). he understood your weird situation, yet, he always wondered why you didnt just leave your shit ass husband.
until one day you invites simon to your home.
"who is he?"
"oh, his name is simon." you say as simon stands behind you, glaring at the man he wishes he could kill.
"why is he here?"
"i invited him, duh."
"you didn't ask me."
"oh, since when do i have to ask? when have you asked me if you could bring someone over?" you turn around and grab simons hand leading him to your bedroom. "tell your lawyer to print the divorce papers, will you? and just as a little reminder, this house is under my name."
simon smiles proudly as you slam the door of the bedroom. your name would sound prettier with his last name anyways. simon just has to wait a bit for that question.
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Remy and reader on their wedding day and night. Fluff and smut please? 😗😗😗😗😗😗
A/N: I like the way you think 🥰🥰🥰 Pairing: F!Reader x Remy "Gambit" LeBeau Tags: fluff, nfsw, sweet sweet smut
"I Do."
The air crackled with nervous anticipation, a fizzing current that danced along your spine. Sunlight streamed through the ornate French doors, casting a warm glow across the sprawling gardens of the St Louis Cathedral. It was the day. You were marrying Remy LeBeau.
A shiver, not entirely from the air-conditioned coolness of the room, rippled through you. You glanced at yourself in the antique mirror, the handcrafted lace of your wedding dress whispering against your skin. It was a vision of elegance, a stark contrast to the life you once knew. But then, so was everything about Remy.
A soft rap at the door startled you. "Come in," you called, your voice barely above a whisper.
The door creaked open, revealing Remy. He looked impossibly handsome in his tailored black suit, a crimson rosebud pinned to his lapel. His eyes, red as garnet and black as night, held a familiar warmth that sent a familiar flutter to your heart.
For a moment, you could only stare at him, speechless. He took a hesitant step forward, a sheepish grin breaking across his face. "Well, mon cheri," he drawled, his voice a barely above a caress, "you look like you swallowed a canary."
You swatted him playfully on the arm, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. "That's the most eloquent compliment I've ever gotten from a thief."
Remy chuckled, the sound rich and deep. "Only for you, cherie. Only for you." He reached out, his hand hovering over yours. "Are you ready?"
You squeezed his hand, the nervous energy dissipating into a calm certainty. "As I'll ever be."
Remy's smile softened. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Then let's go steal the show, shall we?"
The walk down the aisle was a blur. Arms linked with Remy's, you felt a thousand eyes on you, yet all that mattered was the man beside you. You glanced over at the X-Men, your friends over the years as they smiled at the two of you. Morph was bawling, tears streaming down their eyes. Even some of Remy's old Guild acquaintances had shown up and made an appearance. Remy squeezed your hand reassuringly as you reached the altar, a silent promise exchanged in a single touch.
The ceremony was beautiful, a tasteful blend of your traditions and Remy's heritage. When it came time for the vows, Remy's voice, usually smooth as butter, trembled slightly. His words, though, were heartfelt, a testament to the love that had bloomed from the most unexpected of places.
Yours were no less heartfelt, spoken with a conviction that surprised even yourself. You pledged your love, your loyalty, your entire chaotic, beautiful life to this charming thief who had stolen your heart.
You both said without a single doubt in your words, "I do," at last.
As your longtime friend Kurt Wagner declared you husband and wife, Remy took your face in his hands, his gaze intense. The kiss that followed was filled with a lifetime of unspoken emotions, a promise whispered on stolen breaths.
The reception was a whirlwind of laughter, music, and dancing. Remy, ever the charmer, regaled your friends and family with tales of your adventures, your first time ever have met each other, each embellished for maximum effect. You watched him, a smile permanently plastered on your face, your heart overflowing with a happiness you never thought possible.
Later that night, as you stood on the balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens, Remy wrapped his arms around you from behind. "So," he murmured, his voice husky, "Mrs. LeBeau. How does it feel?"
You leaned back against him, a contented sigh escaping your lips. "Like coming home, Remy. Like I finally belong."
He nuzzled your neck, his lips sending shivers down your spine. "Then welcome home, cherie. Welcome home."
As you gazed out at the star-dusted sky, hand in hand with the man you loved, you knew this was just the beginning of your grand adventure. A life together, filled with laughter, love, and perhaps the occasional heist, was a future you wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
But the night didn't stop there. Your Honeymoon awaited as Remy carried you bridal style back through the threshold.
Remy had managed to secure a beautiful hotel nestled in the heart of the French Quarter.
A slow smile spread across his face as he sat you down inside the French Chateau. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "Let's get you out of this dress, shall we?"
His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You nodded, a silent agreement hanging heavy in the air. He helped you remove the dress, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours.
When you stood before him in nothing but your lingerie, the air crackled with unspoken desire and undeniable lust. He took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body, a mixture of possessiveness and reverence in his gaze.
"Ma Belle, you are absolutely stunning," he breathed, his voice thick with desire, his accent thickening.
You stepped closer, bridging the gap between you. You reached out, your fingers tracing the planes of his chest. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by a hungry glint in his eyes.
He captured your lips in a kiss, deep and demanding. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken promises, of a lifetime of passion waiting to be explored. You surrendered to him completely, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around you.
You then pushed Remy down onto the plush bed adorned with red rose petals. He smirked devilishly, eyes never leaving yours as he beckoned you closer.
The night stretched before you, filled with stolen moments and whispered endearments. Remy was everything you'd ever dreamt of and more - tender and passionate, playful and protective. He explored your body with a reverence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire within you.
"Oh gods, Remy! Don't stop, please..." you begged breathlessly as he took you inch by inch, rough and hard, needy and desperate. "F-fuck chere! T-tu te sens si b-bien," he stammered, breaths coming out in short pants. You were both reaching new heights of ecstasy with each other.
You'd made it a point early on in your relationship that if he wanted you, he'd have to bed you properly on your wedding night as traditional and outdated as that sounded. You were tired of having your heart played with in the past. But here he was now, worshipping your body like a long forgotten art. Funny how life turned out for the both of you.
As the night wore on, the initial urgency gave way to a slow, sensual exploration. Remy was thrusting into you in slow deliberate thrusts. Your body fit him like a glove. "Just like that baby, god I love you, Remy...my cajun man," you kissed his lips as he made love to you.
He smiled, half proud and half completely enamored with how you were making him feel.
You learned each other's bodies in a new way, the pleasure building with each touch, each kiss.
Finally, sated and breathless, you lay curled up in his arms, the moonlight painting silver streaks across your entwined forms.
"I love you, Remy," you whispered once more, as if never getting tired of those three words, your voice thick with sleep.
He nuzzled your hair, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Je t'aime, mon cœur," he murmured. "Plus que les mots ne peuvent le dire."
You drifted off to sleep, the feeling of his love a warm blanket wrapped around you, the promise of a lifetime together a sweet dream on your lips.
You were his and he was yours.
Pour Toujours.
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one of your girls part 4
part 1 part 2 part 3 alexia x jenni x leila x reader. you take a ride. smut 18+. part of the rush verse @vixwritesagain ... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here
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Soothing hands were slow to stroke at your skin. When Jenni spoke, it was the quietest you’d ever heard her. A husky, mumbled thing just for you. “Be good. I want to see you come tonight.”
There was no fight when she untangled herself a second time, though the way her hands lingered on your thighs gave her away. Jenni pressed her lips to your cheek before standing up straight. She was quick to turn, walking to where Alexia was perched on the edge of the bed, blocking your view when she bent down to catch the captain’s lips.
You looked away immediately. There was something in your gut which made it hard to watch, like you were intruding on something private, intimate.
Instead, your focus travelled to the corner of the room. Leila met your gaze immediately. Her hand rubbed over her mouth for a moment before she smiled lazily. You watched her focus trail down to your bare chest, then to your legs still hanging off the desk.
With space, you could breathe again. You took the time, forcing deep breaths to calm your frantic heart.
By the time Leila looked back up to your face, you had the wherewithal to raise both eyebrows at her. “Okay?” You mouthed.
Leila’s grin stretched even further. A satisfied nod before her expression turned concerned. “You?” She mouthed back.
It took another second of shaking out your tense limbs, for you to nod and smile back at her. You were half way to pushing off the desk and finding a home on her lap when Jenni spoke. “Lie down, amor. Let her work for you.”
You glanced back just in time to see how Alexia surged up to catch her girlfriend’s lips again. They broke apart only when Jenni’s grin couldn’t be contained, and Alexia pushed back to make herself comfortable against the pillows.
Jenni turned slowly, fiddling with the harness at her hips to unclip it. Her eyes met yours as her content expression faded to something far more devious. Jenni didn’t say anything, but the raise of her eyebrow and the tilt of her chin made the instruction clear enough.
Your legs were like jelly, though you tried to hide just how floaty they felt as you toed your way to the bed.
Alexia lay with both hands behind her head while you hooked a leg over her hips. Though her dark eyes followed your every move, she didn’t react when you steadied yourself on her stomach nor when you reached down to fist her strap.
The few short strokes you gave it were instinctive, but the tiny groan she tried to swallow made you wonder how she’d react if you took her in your mouth. Driven by your own arousal, you ignored it and pressed her tip against your entrance.
After taking their cocks for so long, sinking down was easy. The pleased little noise you let out might have been embarrassing but for how it made Alexia’s lips curl into the tiniest of smiles.
Then the first gentle rock, testing how it felt to ride her. You were vaguely aware of Jenni moving around the room, but paid little mind to her quiet footsteps.
Alexia’s lips parted, tension finding her brow when you sunk back down and sat against her hips. There was the temptation to grind your clit against her skin, but you knew what she really wanted.
Perhaps your needy whines were theatrical, but your cunt clenched around her strap over and over. You quickly found the angle you liked best, one which shot pleasure up your spine every time you sat down.
Whatever show you were planning to put on was off the table when it felt so good. Up and down, with your eyes fluttering shut and your fingertips digging into her skin. The sounds you pulled from her weren’t loud - low groans and the occasional grunt - but they set you alight all the same.
It wasn’t long until you felt her hands curl around your waist, just holding at first, then pushing up to grope your chest. Her fingers pulled at your nipples, making you shiver and tense around her. When her hands returned to your waist, it was to help fuck her cock inside.
“Yes!” You gasped at the extra power behind the rhythm.
“She looks so pretty when she rides you, doesn’t she, Ale?” Leila asked, grinning to herself when you turned your head in her direction. Alexia’s fingers tightened, very clearly wanting your attention on her.
When you looked back down at her, she met your gaze, though with an unusually tense tone. “Do you think about me? When you’ve got Leila's cock inside of you, do you think about me?”
Shivering, you rolled your eyes at her single-mindedness. Though you should have learned your lesson by now, you couldn’t help yourself. “No.”
Within a second, the blonde’s hands were gripping onto your hips, stopping your movements completely.
“No?” She echoed. As soon as you forced your eyes to hers, you were met with a cruel smirk. You tried to ignore her, tried to grind back and forth, but she was too strong. You couldn’t move your lower body even an inch, and just as you were about to give in, Alexia spoke again. “So she is lying to me?”
Your body froze, your confusion clearly written across your face.
Alexia grinned like she was happy to elaborate. “Leila is lying when she says you think about me when you come?”
And it should have been a humiliating revelation, that they’d spoken about you like this. But if it was going to embarrass you, Leila would have never said it. No, she was well aware of how Alexia would bring their conversations up, and your girlfriend knew just what your reaction would be.
Your whole body seemed to twitch as you fought the urge to push Alexia’s hands off you and take what you wanted.
“I am not lying. Tell her, bebé.” Leila piped up, sounding as if all her dreams had just come true.
“Sometimes,” You allowed, your pride only allowing you to say so much, though Alexia’s hands loosened their grip just enough for you to buck pathetically against her.
“All the time,” Leila corrected. “When I fuck her. When she fucks herself.”
“Am I that good?” Alexia asked arrogantly.
Swallowing a whine as she stopped you again, you clenched your fists against her taut stomach. In the quiet, you could hear slick sounds behind you, then Jenni’s signature sigh.
Alexia licked her lips, dark eyes focused on your every move and hair splayed out against white sheets. You shifted a little, catching her gaze trailing down to your breasts before you spoke. “You are… good.”
Alexia let out a sharp exhale as her focus turned clinical. “You will have to be more specific if you want to come. Did you like taking my fingers, or being on your knees for me?”
“Alexia, just let me move.” You whined, dragging blunt nails across her forearms.
“No. Dime.”
For a second, you thought Leila might jump in and save you again. Instead, the silence stretched on and on until you broke. “On my knees.”
“Sí? What about it?”
“All of it.”
“Todo?” Alexia loosened her grip, stroking over your thighs as they immediately started working you up and down her length.
“Todo.” Leila sang from the corner as you moaned. “She liked when you made her eat Jenni’s pussy while you fucked her.”
“And when you played with her ass?” Jenni guessed. You could hear the grin in her breathless tone.
Alexia grinned too, watching you with an unfair amount of control. “Puta,” She purred, letting you find the angle which made you keen, “Show me how much you like my cock.”
With your hands on her stomach, you bounced. A few gentle bucks first to get used to it, then fast enough to feel the heady pleasure. So thick, so deep every time you sat down. Your unrestrained moans mingled with the springs of the hotel bed, creaking in time with every rock.
You weren’t sure if it was Alexia’s hands rocking you, or her hips bucking up from the bed. Either way, the feeling of her was more. It was relentless and deep. The longer it went on, the higher your desire to come became.
“Alexia likes to think about you, too, cari.” Jenni called from behind. “Ever since she had you, you’re all she talks about-”
“Jenni-” Alexia warned though her eyes never left your chest.
“-Your pretty pussy on her cock,” The striker continued as if uninterrupted.
“Jennifer.”
“She likes to think about filling you up and making you scream. Don’t you, Ale?”
You watched Alexia’s eyes trail down to where you rode. It wasn’t often that Alexia was without something to say, and it was this rarity that gave you a little courage. Without letting yourself think too hard about it, you grabbed Alexia’s hands from where they rested on your hips, and shifted forwards, pinning her to the mattress.
There was barely any time for Alexia to look at you, astonished, before your lips were next to her ear, and you spoke so quietly, the blonde knew only she had heard you. That your words were only for her.
“Come in my pussy, Ale, I need it,” You whimpered.
Alexia groaned before it happened. You gasped when she used her overwhelming strength to flip the both of you until her body pressed into yours.
Another second, then Alexia was moving. Not just moving her hips, not just fucking into you like she had before. Maybe it was different because you knew she was going to make you come this time. Regardless of the reason, it was unrestrained and visceral. It was Alexia, taking what she wanted, and giving you what you wanted at the same time.
All of her control was wholly abandoned in favour of rutting into you with all of her power, fucking in so deeply, you could feel her in your stomach. All you could do was wrap all four of your limbs around her toned body, try to remember to breathe, and hold on as she worked you both up, steadily higher and higher. Her body stayed close, hips snapping her cock inside and rubbing against your clit deliciously.
“Alexia, god, Ale, ” You couldn’t finish your sentence, overcome with pleasure as your body began to shake. She fucked the neediest sounds from you with every thrust.
“Again,” she hissed.
“Alexia. Ale-” You chanted, willing to do whatever she asked if it meant she wouldn’t stop. Not now, not when you were so high strung. “Alexia. Please. Fuck, Alexia.”
“Te sientes tan bien,” Alexia grunted, her lips brushing against your cheek. You couldn’t think about the affection in her voice, or the way you were wrapped around her, only the way it felt. Hot, relentless, and safe. Her arms held you so tightly there was nowhere to move, but why would you want to? Her panting in your ear, the pounding of her hips, the press of her skin. All of it was heaven.
“I’m so-” You warned, feeling it build low in your stomach.
“No. Wait. Conmigo.” She cut you off with a low rasp.
You clung to her, nodding into her neck though you weren’t sure it was even possible to stop it.
“Vas a correr en su coño, Ale?” Jenni wondered.
You let out a needy whine at her question.
The midfielder was bucking into you frantically, clearly nearing her own peak. With every thrust, Alexia grew less and less composed. Her lips were parted as she breathed a sharp exhale every time she filled you. The intensity of her gaze bordered on hypnotising, almost distracting from the word she murmured. “Inside?”
“Please,” You moaned, a hand tightening its grip on the back of the blonde’s neck.
Her cheek pressed to yours, her lips finding your ear. “Tell me.” Alexia demanded.
“I need you to come inside me,” You whined, “Ale, I’m so close, I’m gonna come.”
“Let me fill up your pussy first, zorrita.”
“Fuck, Ale. I can’t.” You desperately tried to swallow your own arousal and think of anything beyond how close to the edge you were.
“Espera.” She commanded breathlessly.
You whimpered, shaking your head into her neck. The harder she drove, the more certain you were that you couldn’t last a single second longer.
“It’s okay bebé,” Leila chimed in sweetly. “Come on Ale’s cock. Give her a tight little hole to fill up.”
You stopped trying to fight it, allowing the stimulation to overtake your body. A few harsh thrusts, then it hit. You writhed under Alexia, back arching, eyes slamming shut as it washed over you.
“Alexia,” you mewled, your voice barely more than a squeak before you fell silent. The peak was too high. You squeezed her, holding on until it broke hard. Wave after wave after wave flooding every nerve in your body.
Alexia worked herself furiously towards her own end, finding the rhythm and angle that felt the best and hitting it with every thrust, though it was difficult to move when you clamped down. The knowledge that she was the reason you were in such a state of bliss made her head spin, and it was only a few more seconds of chasing her own orgasm before she shook.
Alexia’s hips slapped against your skin, meeting the sound of her filthy moans until both became muffled. Her movements inside of you slowed, becoming smaller and smaller until she stopped completely. Then came the comforting weight of her body relaxing into yours. The slight shift of her cock had you keening in sensitivity, letting your legs fall from where they were wrapped around her waist.
“Shh,” She breathed, hand clumsily gripping onto yours. You weren’t sure whether you were shaking or if Alexia was, but you hauled her in closer all the same, needing to feel every inch of her skin against yours. The room was still, or maybe your head was too clouded to register much else. It could have been seconds or minutes that you and Alexia lay there, unconsciously breathing in sync.
When your needy sounds had died down, Alexia carefully inched the strap out of you. You managed to withhold your whimper this time, but it escaped only a minute later when Alexia leaned up and away. She rolled onto her back, her body only parting from yours for seconds before she was tugging you back into her side. Your hand trembled where it laced with Alexia’s, your inhales and exhales unsteady against her chest.
It was comfortable, laying pressed up against Alexia’s warm skin. You didn’t think of much beyond the heat of her and the aftershocks which sporadically shivered through your spine.
The quiet shift of fabric, then a soft hand stroked up and down your back. Given Alexia’s stillness, you knew didn’t belong to the blonde.
Leila didn’t need to say anything before you were rolling away from Alexia and into her waiting arms. She was still dressed, wearing her favourite hoodie that smelled unmistakably like her, all comforting, soft and familiar. You settled against her, inhaling deeply as she ran her fingers through your hair. She was less warm than Alexia’s bare skin, but the stroke of her hands made you shiver for different reasons. You both were jostled as the bed dipped next to you, and though you weren’t looking, you knew that Jenni had not been as gentle as she pulled her girlfriend into her.
“Ale!” She sang, pressing a few kisses to Alexia’s cheek. You could picture the shy smile on Alexia’s face, yet Leila’s heartbeat in your ear was too soothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but her. Peace was something you apparently weren’t allowed, though, as you were shaken gently before you could allow yourself to truly relax.
“Not yet.” Leila whispered. “You can’t sleep yet. We still have guests.”
You grumbled, pressing your face further into her chest. A large hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers tapping at your skull gently at first, then a bit more insistently. You looked up to glare at Alexia, who was grinning smugly at you from her spot reclined in Jenni’s arms.
“Did I tire you out?” She questioned.
You rolled your eyes. “No, your girlfriend did.”
This time though, Alexia didn’t jump to jealousy. “You begged for me. You did not beg for Jenni.” She dismissed, though she visibly tightened the grip Jenni’s long arms had around her.
“You didn’t,” Jenni agreed, nuzzling into her girlfriend’s neck. “Don’t lie, cari. She is the best. You look so good together.”
The look Alexia tried to hide was the softest you’d seen on her.
Leila’s fingertips traced patterns over your ribcage. “You are so pretty when you beg.” She sighed dreamily. “So pretty when they fuck you.”
Alexia hummed her agreement softly, removing her hand from your head with a smirk. The room fell quiet again. You started to recognise the hum of cars outside and the chatter of people in the hallway.
You were just about to turn back into Leila’s chest, company be damned, when Jenni cleared her throat. “Do you all remember my goal? It was a good one, no?”
Alexia reached her hand up, stroking at Jenni’s cheek. “Sí, increíble.”
The forward waited patiently for a moment, but none of you said anything else. “So is it time for my reward now? For my goal?”
-----
thank you for coming on this filthy journey with me :) i hope you all enjoyed. <3
#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#leila ouahabi x reader#leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas x jenni hermoso#alexia putellas x reader#jenni hermoso x reader
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i know its long but plspls give it a chance!!
Unspoken Tension / Quiet Obsession (Illumi Zooldyck x Reader)
Unspoken Tension / Quiet Obsession
Pairing; Illumi Zoldyck x Reader
Anime: Hunter x Hunter
Synopsis:A woman with secrets, a man with control. Illumi Zoldyck finds her, and their silence lingers with something unspoken.
Warnings: slow burn, dark themes, rough sex, fingering, comfort in Illumi's way
You’ve always kept to the edges, moving through life unnoticed. You’ve had your share of battles—physical and otherwise—and learned early that blending in was as important as any skill. Your past is a blur, just fragments you’ve pieced together, like a puzzle you can’t quite finish. In the shadows, you thrive, and that’s enough for now.
There’s always been a quiet certainty that when the time comes, you'll be ready. You’re waiting for something, though you can’t say what—maybe a clue, or someone who knows more about you than you do. Tonight, it’s just another evening, another bar, another meet-up. But your instincts tell you something’s off.
The bar was shrouded in shadows, the faint flicker of a red neon sign casting eerie shapes on the cracked floor. You pushed through the heavy door, the creak of its hinges slicing through the muffled hum of conversation. The smoky air wrapped around you like a warning, but you ignored it, your heels clicking softly as you approached the bar.
Two men sat at the far end of the bar, framed by the flickering light. One of them lounged lazily, a grin stretched across his lips—Hisoka. Beside him, the other man sat perfectly still, an eerie contrast to Hisoka’s theatrics. Illumi who absentmindedly wrapped his hair around his finger while Hisoka teased him, clearly enjoying the moment.
Illumi’s needle hung from his robe as usual, while his other hand rested casually on his knee, ever ready to strike if necessary.
“Illumi, don’t be so dull. Where’s the fun in that?” Hisoka chuckled, looking amused.
“Be quiet, before I make you” Illumi replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance, still sipping his drink.
Hisoka’s gaze snapped to you almost instantly when he sense your nen, knowing exactly that you are Y/N, his grin unfurling like a blade hidden in silk. He adjusted his suit jacket with deliberate flair, the faint gleam in his eyes hinting at both curiosity and danger.
‘Well, well, look what we have here,’ he purred, stepping toward you with unsettling grace.”
“A lovely lady, all alone and ripe for the picking.”
He extended his hand towards you, offering it with a gentlemanly air, though a glint of mischief danced in his eyes. Illumi remained seated, his gaze flicking between you and Hisoka, his needle twitching slightly, as though he were anticipating whatever might happen next.
You raised an eyebrow at Hisoka’s bold approach, your crimson lips curling into a smirk. A small part of you felt uncertain—there was something about this situation that didn’t sit right. “And just what do you think you're 'picking'?” you asked, your voice calm, but with an edge of challenge. Despite the unease creeping at the back of your mind, you accepted his hand.
Hisoka's grin widened at your firm handshake, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. “Oh, my dear, I’m not sure yet. But I have a feeling you’re going to make this evening very... interesting,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, his voice turning husky. “Care to join me and my friend for a drink? We can discuss the possibilities.”
Meanwhile, Illumi remained passive, watching the exchange with interest. His eyes flickered between you and Hisoka, seemingly impassive. His needle quivered faintly as though waiting for the right moment to strike. When your gaze met his, Illumi simply studied you with his trademark unreadable expression, the coolness of his stare sending a chill through the air.
Your eyes lingered on the Illumi’s needle, his cold presence making your pulse quicken. There was something unsettling about the stillness in his posture—it was like he was watching you with the precision of a predator. A chill ran down your spine, and despite the intrigue it sparked, you couldn’t deny the sense of danger radiating from him. Your heart beat a little faster, the unease creeping up on you, yet you couldn’t look away.
“You seem... interesting,” Hisoka said playfully, glancing over at Illumi with a mischievous glint. “Our friend here looks like he’s already sizing you up. No need to worry about him,” he added, with a wink.
You turned to Illumi, your gaze steady, though you felt a slight unease at his intense observation. The silence between you two was thick with unspoken tension. His presence was imposing, yet you couldn’t look away.
“Well now,” you said, breaking the silence. “A drink won’t hurt.”
You slid into the stool next to Illumi, crossing your legs and leaning back slightly, still feeling his piercing gaze on you.
Hisoka clapped his hands together clearly pleased with your response. “Excellent choice! Another round for us, bartender,” he called, signaling for more drinks.
Illumi remained silent, his posture relaxed but alert. He regarded you with the same intense focus, his gaze sharp, as if assessing you on some deeper level.
“So, tell me” Hisoka said, returning to his seat beside you after collecting the drinks. “What brings a stunning woman like yourself to a place like this? Looking for adventure, perhaps?” Hisoka’s question was light, but the underlying curiosity was clear.
You took a slow sip of your drink, never breaking eye contact with Illumi. His attention was making you feel uneasy, but you stayed composed. You couldn’t help but wonder: why was he playing with that needle? What was his deal?
After a moment, you turned to Hisoka, offering him a small, confident smile. “Just passing through, waiting for a friend,” you replied smoothly, your voice calm but with a hint of mystery. “What about you two?”
Hisoka chuckled, sipping from his own glass. “Just enjoying the finer things in life: good company, fine liquor,” he said, winking at you playfully. “Perhaps a little entertainment, if you’re in the mood.”
Illumi, on the otherhand, didn’t respond verbally. He simply tilted his head slightly, studying you with a gaze that felt as though he were trying to see through you. The needle twitched once more, drawing lazy circles in the air, as if testing the limits of the tension between you.
The silence stretched on, uncomfortable, until Illumi finally spoke. “Your friend had better hurry,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “This isn’t a safe place for someone like you to linger.”
His words were cryptic, but there was an edge to them, something that made your skin prickle.
You glanced at Illumi, your eyes narrowing. “Someone like me?” you asked, not sure if you were being threatened or warned. Hisoka, sensing the tension, stepped in to break the silence.
“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions,” he said with a soft chuckle, placing a calming hand on Illumi’s shoulder. “Our guest seems perfectly capable of handling yourself. Aren’t you, Y/N?”
Hisoka’s tone was light, but there was a subtle edge beneath the words, as though he, too, were aware of the growing competition for your attention.
You noticed the way Hisoka’s touch on Illumi’s shoulder seemed both friendly and possessive. It was clear they had some sort of complicated relationship, and you were caught in the middle of it. But what caught your attention, is that they know your name, but you decide not to speak about it.
You raised an eyebrow at Illumi’s comment, trying to keep your cool despite the unease settling in your chest. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you perhaps… threatening me?” you whispered, your voice steady, even though the tension in the room was making your heart race.
Illumi’s lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. “Threaten you? Oh, no. I'm merely offering... a warning.” he purred, his tone oozing with condescension. “Consider it a courtesy.”
Hisoka quickly intervened, his voice soothing. “Pay him no mind, Y/N. My friend there speaks in riddles sometimes. It’s just his way of showing interest.”
Despite Hisoka’s attempt to downplay the situation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more complicated was at play here.
You looked at Illumi’s mocking smile, the chill creeping up your spine at his tone. You turned back to Hisoka, trying to ease the tension. “I’m not sure I buy that,” you murmured to yourself, then smiled at Hisoka, attempting to lighten the mood. “But thanks for the intervention.”
Hisoka chuckled, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Ah, always so perceptive, aren’t you?” He raised his glass in a toast. “To new acquaintances and the intriguing games we play, hmm?”
The tension between the three of you remained thick in the air. Illumi leaned back in his seat, watching you intently, his needle still tracing lazy patterns in the air.
“So, what do you do for a living?” you asked, trying to shift the focus back to Hisoka. You could feel his eyes flickering over you, sensing your curiosity.
Hisoka grinned, clearly pleased by the question. “Oh, I dabble in many pursuits,” he said. “Collecting rare artifacts, attending underground fights, savoring exquisite cuisine...” He paused, letting the words hang in the air for dramatic effect. “And occasionally, I provide a... more exclusive form of entertainment for those who know how to appreciate certain... unique talents.”
His words were playful, but there was a sense of pride in them, as if he relished in his dangerous lifestyle.
As you turned to Illumi, you could feel the weight of his silent gaze. His presence was suffocating, and you sensed the layers of his mystery, but he didn’t respond.
“What about your friend?” you asked, your tone casual, but with a trace of challenge. The air between you two thickened.
Hisoka’s grin widened, but he avoided giving you a direct answer. “Illumi here is a man of many talents,” he said vaguely. “He has a... certain calling in life.”
Before you could ask more, Illumi stood up abruptly, the scraping of his chair on the floor making you tense.
“Enough idle chatter,” he said coldly. “If you’re done prattling, perhaps our host has something more stimulating in store for us.”
He turned and began to walk toward the exit, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake. You watched him leave, feeling a mix of relief and confusion. His mention of a "host" caught you off guard. Who was he talking about? The way he spoke suggested something far more serious than a casual meeting, but you couldn't place the connection yet.
“Well, that was certainly an interesting introduction,” you said to Hisoka, trying to shrug off the discomfort.
Hisoka chuckled, unbothered by Illumi’s abrupt exit. “Yes, Illumi can be a bit... intense,” he said. “But don’t worry, he means no harm... unless provoked.”
Hisoka leaned closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. “I find your reaction to him quite fascinating,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You’re more than just a pretty face, aren’t you?”
You turned your gaze back to Hisoka, intrigued by his words, but still uncertain of where this night would lead.
“Well, I've faced worse than his eccentric personality,” you smile jokingly.
Hisoka’s grin widened, clearly amused by your bravery. “Is that so? I’d love to hear more about these ‘worse’ encounters of yours. Perhaps over dinner, hmm?”
He signaled the bartender for another round of drinks. As they waited for their refreshments, Hisoka continued to regale you with outrageous tales of his adventures, each one more bizarre and captivating than the last.
Meanwhile, Illumi re-entered the bar, his expression as inscrutable as ever. He slid onto the stool next to you, his presence subtly overwhelming. Despite the physical space between you, you couldn’t escape the weight of his gaze, as if he were silently dissecting your every movement.
You glanced at him as he returned, going back to the host he’d mentioned earlier—but of course, you had no idea what he meant by that. There was something about the way he had said it, a certain expectation, as if his presence here was tied to more than just a casual meeting.
You noticed Hisoka’s quick, subtle gesture when Illumi sat down—a nearly imperceptible nod, as if confirming something without words. It didn’t escape your attention, but you couldn’t quite place its significance.
“Okay, I’m done,” you say calmly, though clearly irritated. “Do you have a problem?” you ask, looking at Illumi, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.
Illumi’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his expression unreadable. However, there was no sign of anger or aggression in his demeanor. Instead, he tilted his head and studied you with a curious, almost intrigued look.
“Problem?” he repeated in a low, measured voice. “Hardly. I simply find your... audacity rather intriguing. Most would have fled in terror at the sight of me, yet here you stand, unflinching.”
He leaned back in his stool, his posture relaxed, but his gaze never strayed from you. “Tell me, what drives someone like you to face danger so directly? Is it bravery, stupidity, or perhaps something else?”
The question lingered, heavy with a subtle menace. Illumi’s gaze pierced into you, as if trying to read something in you only you could answer. Hisoka observed the interaction, clearly fascinated, eager to see how you’d handle Illumi's probing.
You took a deep breath, trying to remain composed despite Illumi's unrelenting stare.
“It’s none of your business,” you respond firmly. “And... why should I be terrified of you?” you meet his gaze without flinching, even though your heart races slightly faster.
Illumi’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile at your defiance. “Brave words,” he murmured softly. “We’ll see how long they last.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your wrist in a fleeting, chilling touch. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of disgust and morbid fascination. “Perhaps I should demonstrate just how terrifying I can be,” he purred, his voice carrying a dark, unsettling promise.
Before you could react, Hisoka placed a hand lightly on Illumi's shoulder, his voice a smooth contrast to Illumi’s ominous tone. “Now, now, let’s not scare off our lovely guest just yet,” he chided, a playful edge in his words.
Turning to you, Hisoka flashed that signature, teasing grin. You quickly pull your arm away from Illumi’s touch, a sense of unease growing in your chest. Your heartbeat quickens, his aura undeniably dangerous, but there’s also something about him that draws you in. Still, the feeling of being unsettled and annoyed lingers.
“Thanks for the intervention,” you say to Hisoka, giving him a brief but grateful look while keeping your attention fixed on Illumi. “But I think I’ll leave now.” You stand, meeting Illumi’s intense gaze one last time.
Hisoka rose to his feet with a sweeping bow. “A pleasure, You. I do hope our paths cross again, though perhaps next time in less... tense circumstances.”
As you made your way to the door, Illumi remained seated, his gaze unwavering as he watched your every movement. “Until next time” he whispered, his voice carrying a dangerous promise.
Once you exited the bar, Hisoka whistled lowly. “Quite the spark between you two,” he said, his eyes flicking to Illumi. “I hope you can handle the flames to come.” Illumi remained silent, watching the door with a slight, unreadable tilt of his head. A faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something crossed his face—perhaps a mix of interest and calculation—but he didn’t comment. Hisoka smirked, sensing the night was far from over.
You stepped outside into the cool evening air, the wind brushing against your face. Your thoughts raced with everything that had happened—Illumi, Hisoka, the odd tension that hung in the air between the three of you. Something about them—about him—kept you intrigued, despite everything telling you to stay away.
The following days passed in a haze. Between training your Nen and trying to keep your mind focused, the encounter with Illumi and Hisoka lingered at the back of your thoughts. You went through your routines, honing your skills in the solitude of your own space, but a nagging thought kept surfacing: Could this strange connection with them somehow serve your ultimate goal?
Your instincts told you to stay cautious, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of something much larger.
That night, just as you were about to slip into restless sleep, a knock at your door shattered the silence. Your heart raced, pulse quickening with anticipation. Hesitant, you approached the door, peeking through the peephole. A shadow loomed outside.
"Illumi?" you whisper, barely above a breath.The knocking continues, more insistent this time.
You hesitate, every instinct telling you to stay safe. Yet, curiosity overwhelms you. Slowly, you open the door just a crack.When you see Illumi standing there, you freeze for a moment, unsure what to do. Part of you wants to slam the door shut, but the other part... is intrigued.
"How do you know where I live?" you ask, your voice a little more uncertain than you'd like to admit. "What are you doing here?" You keep your gaze locked on him, your body on alert.
Illumi steps inside without waiting for an invitation, closing the door softly behind him. In the dim light, his presence feels almost suffocating—like a predator watching its prey.
"You shouldn't be surprised," he murmurs smoothly, his voice like silk. "In our world, secrets aren't hard to uncover. Especially when someone as... captivating as you is involved."
He steps closer, his proximity sending a ripple of heat through your body. The danger in his every move is undeniable.
"I came to extend an invitation," he says, his voice low, mesmerizing. "Tomorrow night. A private gathering. It will be... an experience you won't forget."
You swallow, trying to hold your ground as his gaze locks onto yours. His presence, so close, sends an electric current running through your skin, leaving you with a chilling sense of unease—and, for some reason, something else.
"I don't think so," you respond, trying to keep your composure. "I don't trust you yet to accept an invitation from someone like you."
Illumi’s lips twitch into a small, calculating smile as he watches you. His gaze is cold, yet there’s something predatory in it. "That’s precisely why you should consider it," he says, his voice low and steady. He reaches forward, his fingers grazing the side of your face with eerie precision, his touch cold yet deliberate, sending a shiver down your spine.
"We’re not used to being dismissed," he continues, his voice unwavering and cold, yet there’s an underlying intensity. "Especially by someone with potential. Consider it a test—a way to prove you’re worth our attention. A challenge, if you will."
He leans in slightly, his breath cold against your ear. "If you prove yourself, the rewards may outweigh the risk," he says, his voice steady but carrying an unsettling weight. He pulls back, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave. "Until tomorrow night. Don’t take too long."
You watch him leave, your heart still pounding in your chest, the intensity of his presence lingering in the air. You hate that your body responded the way it did. Part of you feels intimidated, but there's also an undeniable temptation, a pull you can't seem to shake.
The next day, you're pacing your apartment, anxiety gnawing at you. The offer, the invitation, the mystery—it's all too much to ignore. Despite your better judgment, you're drawn to the dangerous allure of Illumi and Hisoka. By the time the sun sets, you've made up your mind.
You arrive at the mansion on the outskirts of town. The eerie quiet of the place sends a chill down your spine, but your curiosity pushes you forward. Inside, you spot Illumi waiting for you, his piercing gaze immediately locking onto yours.
"Well, well," he drawls, his voice like velvet. "Look who decided to join us. I must say, I'm impressed."
You stand tall, despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. "Impressed by what exactly?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I must admit, I find your... choices somewhat intriguing." You don’t dare voice your true thoughts, though a part of you feels the pull of his presence.
Illumi chuckles softly, a sound that sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. "Oh, my dear," he purrs, his eyes dark with quiet amusement as he circles around you, "it’s not just my... choices that draw you in, is it?" His voice is smooth, dangerous, a predator’s calm before the hunt. "It’s the power I carry, the silent threat, the allure of what lies beneath the surface."
He steps even closer, so close you can feel the heat of his presence. Stopping behind you, he leans in, his breath grazing your ear. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, his fingers cold as they gently cup your chin, turning your head to face him. "I won’t hold it against you. In fact, I find your boldness... rather intriguing."
With a deliberate motion, he guides your chin to face him fully. His cold fingers send a shiver through you, contrasting with the warmth of his breath against your skin. "Shall we proceed?" he asks, his voice low, commanding, almost hypnotic.
You try to hold your ground, though it’s hard not to react to his proximity, to the way he takes control of the space between you. "Let’s get this over with," you say, your voice betraying a hint of unease, though you strive to sound unaffected. "Lead the way."
Illumi's grip tightens slightly, a silent reminder not to challenge him further. "As you wish," he responds, releasing your chin with a fluid motion before stepping back.
He leads you down the mansion’s corridors, each step echoing through the vast, silent halls. When you reach a heavy door, guarded by silent figures, Illumi unlocks it with a key, revealing the eerie blue light spilling from within.
"Welcome to our little sanctuary," Illumi announces. "Inside awaits an experience beyond your wildest imagination."
You step inside hesitantly, immediately feeling the weight of the atmosphere. The air is thick, pulsing with an almost tangible energy, and the blue light casts an ethereal glow over everything.
"What is this place?" you ask, your voice tight with uncertainty. "And who else is here?" You glance around, sensing eyes on you from the shadows, though you can’t make anyone out.
Illumi senses your unease and speaks with a calm, almost possessive tone. "This is a sanctum for those who appreciate the finer things in life," he explains, guiding you deeper into the room. "The company is... eclectic. But don’t worry, they mean no harm... for now."
He looks at you, his gaze unreadable. "As for the others, let's just say you've caught the attention of some very... interesting individuals." He places a hand on the small of your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "We’ve been discussing the possibility of adding you to our little family."
Your breath catches. "Family?" you repeat, your voice wavering slightly. "I don’t even know what you do. I’m not sure I’m interested in joining your... family."
You glance around again, noticing how the shadows seem to shift, as if alive, watching you.
Illumi’s grip on your back tightens, his voice low and cold. "Oh, you’re already a part of it, whether you like it or not," he says, his tone calm yet firm. "Once you've crossed paths with us, there’s no turning back."
He leads you to a raised dais at the center of the room, motioning for you to sit. "Sit," he commands. "Now."
You obey, though the feeling in the room only grows heavier, more oppressive.
From the shadows, Hisoka emerges, a wicked grin on his face as he looks you over. "Well, well, look at our little bird perched so prettily," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement. His gaze shifts to Illumi. "She looks like she belongs here, don't you think?"
You feel a shiver of dread as Hisoka's gaze locks onto you, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Part of you feels threatened, yet the way Illumi stands near you, his eyes fixed on Hisoka with a certain quiet possessiveness, makes you feel... somewhat protected.
Hisoka steps closer, his grin widening. "In a world full of mediocrity, we seek out the extraordinary," he says with a mocking tone. "And you, my dear, are a rare gem indeed."
Before you can respond, Illumi places a hand on Hisoka’s shoulder, signaling for him to stop. "Enough games," he says quietly, but with an edge to his voice. He turns back to you, his demeanor shifting to something more serious, yet still oddly intimate. "We’re not merely what people assume us to be. We are... curators of chaos, seekers of the sublime."
You listen to his words carefully, still trying to wrap your mind around everything. You're intrigued, but more than a little scared. There's so much you don't understand.
"So, what is it you want from me?" you ask, voice barely above a whisper. "What is your game? What are you, assassins?" You joke, but oh dear, their gaze tells you everything, and you freeze, realizing the truth of their job.
Illumi’s smile grew, a thin, calculating line that didn’t reach his eyes. "Assassins, mercenaries, enforcers—labels are irrelevant when you're dealing with the best of the best," he said, his voice a low purr. "We’re not concerned with ownership; we’re more interested in partnership."
Hisoka snorted, his grin widening. "Partnership implies equality, sweetheart, and you're nowhere near our level. But don’t worry, we’ll bring you up to speed."
Illumi placed a hand on your knee, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the deadly nature of their profession. "Think of it this way—you'll be part of an elite circle, operating on the fringes of society. No ordinary life for you anymore, my dear. Just the thrill of the unknown, the rush of adrenaline in the face of danger..."
Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize they are indeed assassins, and it troubles you more than you intended. You feel in danger here—there’s no way out. The mansion is full of people waiting for you to join their group, but... why?
As you overthink, staring at them intently, you suddenly realize something that terrifies you. You've heard of an assassin family—the Zoldycks—and you can't help but ask, a tremor running through you.
"Illumi... what's your full name?" You look at him, hoping for honesty, feeling tense and drawn to this dangerous man, almost seeking his comfort despite the fear bubbling inside you.
Illumi’s smile widened, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Ah, you've done your research," he purred, leaning in closer to you. "My full name is Illumi Zoldyck."
He watched your reaction intently, savoring the shock on your face. "Yes, I come from a long lineage of assassins," he continued, his voice low and hypnotic. I’m the shadow that moves unseen, the force that shapes outcomes without lifting a finger. I’m a master of control, an architect of fate—everything I touch bends to my will."
Hisoka chuckled darkly, interjecting, "And a total psycho, if you ask me." Illumi shot him a withering glare, but then focused back on you.
"But enough about us," Illumi said, his tone shifting to a more intimate cadence.
Your eyes widen at the revelation, a chill running down your spine. You knew about the Zoldycks, but never thought you would meet one, especially not one so close to you right now.
"A Zoldyck..." You mutter under your breath, trying to process the new information. You look at him, feeling a mix of fear and fascination as you’re drawn to him. "Why do you need me to be part of... your group?"
Illumi doesn't answer directly about your role in the organization, but he can’t help but feel drawn to you in a way his family wouldn't approve of. Though cold and calculating on the surface, there's something different when it comes to you. He won’t show this weakness, of course.
Illumi leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded you with an unreadable expression. " Let’s just say... you’ll fit nicely into the framework we’re building. There’s always a place for the right person."," he replied cryptically.
Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Yeah, she's got the spark, the fire in your belly. We could mold your into something truly exceptional."
Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint in his eye before returning to you. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."
Hisoka paused, studying your reactions closely. "So, what do you say, my dear? Are you ready to embrace your destiny and become part of our little family?"
You swallow, feeling like a pawn in a game you don't fully understand. The allure of power, of being part of something bigger than yourself, is undeniable.
"I... I’ll think about it," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, torn between fear and curiosity. You can't tear your eyes away from Illumi.
Hisoka, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. "Oh, my, you're torn between fear and curiosity? How delicious! I can't wait to see what you’ll choose... or maybe I just want to watch you squirm."
Illumi’s gaze flicked to Hisoka, a warning glint flashing briefly in his eyes before returning to you. There was an undeniable intensity in the way he looked at you, like he was considering you, weighing you, perhaps even contemplating something more. "Of course, it’s not just about our needs. We believe you have potential—a latent talent waiting to be unleashed."
Illumi rose from his seat, towering over you, his eyes boring into yours. "I’ll give you time until tomorrow night."
Afterward, you head home, your mind consumed by everything that happened. As you think, your thoughts drift to Illumi.
As you departed, Hisoka called after you, his voice echoing through the mansion's grand halls. "Don’t take too long, darling! We’re eager to see what you'll become!"
Illumi, meanwhile, remained standing, his piercing gaze following you until you disappeared from view. Once alone, he allowed himself a fleeting moment of introspection, his thoughts drifting to the enigmatic woman he had encountered.
Despite his usual composure, there was an unfamiliar warmth simmering within him, a sensation he couldn’t quite define. Illumi pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the task at hand—molding you into the perfect asset for their organization.
The next evening, as planned, Illumi awaited your arrival, his demeanor as cool and collected as ever.
You arrive at the mansion, nervous and troubled by the decision you just made. As you step inside, you see Illumi standing there, looking calm and collected as always. Your heartbeat quickens.
Illumi greeted you with a nod, his eyes assessing your appearance and demeanor. "You've decided, then?" he asked matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Come, let's discuss the details of your new role."
Without awaiting a response, Illumi turned abruptly, his movements deliberate and fluid as he led you deeper into the mansion. His steps echoed in the silent corridors, and you couldn't help but feel the weight of his presence, like he was drawing you into a world you weren't sure you were ready for. The maze of corridors felt endless, each turn more isolating than the last.
"I assume you have some experience with combat, " Illumi said, his voice low, almost assessing. His gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, a subtle but deliberate scrutiny. "We'll start with a physical test. I want to see what you're capable of. "
As Illumi finished speaking, the door creaked open behind you, and Hisoka leaned in casually, his grin widening as he sized you up. 'Well, well,' he purred, 'Let’s see if our recruit lives up to the Zoldyck legacy. "
Following Illumi, your pulse quickens, a mix of nervousness and something else, something unfamiliar. The door to the training room swings open, and the cold gleam of weapons lining the walls hits you like a slap. This was no ordinary training facility—it was a shrine to death, and you were about to become a part of it.
I... yes, I have some combat experience,' you reply, trying to sound confident, but your voice betrays a hint of uncertainty. His gaze, slow and deliberate, traces over you—making you feel both exposed and oddly... seen. You force yourself to stand tall, though your heart races under the weight of his scrutiny.
You notice Hisoka observing you with keen interest, his grin widening as he watches your interaction with Illumi.
With a deep breath, you brace yourself, feeling Illumi’s eyes still on you, studying, calculating. His nod is almost imperceptible, yet his gaze remains sharp and intense, like a predator’s. 'Let’s start with something simple—agility, reflexes. Show me what you can do.' His words, though neutral, hang heavy in the air, a silent challenge."
He pointed to the obstacles ahead—hurdles, balance beams, pendulums swinging with mechanical precision. 'Your task is simple,' Illumi said, his voice calm but firm, 'Cross without making a mistake. Only the ground should feel your weight. Understood?'"
Before you could respond, Hisoka chimed in, "And remember, sweetie, speed and precision are key! Show us what you're made of!"
Illumi glanced at Hisoka, his expression a sharp mix of annoyance and something else—something colder. But he didn’t waste words. His gaze snapped back to you, every ounce of his attention now fixed on your every move. "On my count," he instructed, raising his hand. "Three... two... one..."
You nod, taking a moment to observe the obstacles before you. Your mind races with strategies and tactics, trying to decide the best approach.
As Illumi starts counting down, you spring into action, moving swiftly across the floor. You leap over the hurdles, balancing carefully on the narrow beams, and dodging the swinging pendulums with quick reflexes.
Halfway through, you feel a surge of adrenaline, pushing you to move even faster. With a final leap, you land safely on the ground, panting lightly.
Wiping the sweat from your brow, you look up at Illumi and Hisoka waiting.
Illumi watched your performance with a critical eye, noting your speed, agility, and overall technique. When you finished, he gave a slight nod of approval. "Not bad. You managed to complete the course without major errors."
Hisoka, on the otherhand, was practically bouncing with excitement, clapping his hands togetyour gleefully. "Bravo, bravo! What a delightful display of athleticism! I must say, I'm thoroughly impressed."
Illumi raised an eyebrow at his friend's exuberance but turned his attention back to you. "Next, we'll assess your marksmanship skills. Follow me."
Without a word, Illumi turned, leading you to a shooting range tucked in a quiet corner of the room. The stark silence of the space was almost oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of your breath. 'Prove your worth,' he said coldly, 'Handguns, rifles, knives. Show me what you can do.
You follow Illumi to the shooting range, feeling a mix of confidence and trepidation. You’ve handled guns before, but not in a formal setting like this. Nodding, you select a handgun first. Illumi helps you check the weight and grip before you aim at the target, his touch on your hand making you unfocused for a second. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze the trigger, hitting the center of the bullseye. Next, you move on to the rifle, your aim steady and true as you fire off round after round, each bullet finding its mark except one. Finally, you pick up a knife, flipping it expertly between your fingers before demonstrating your throwing skills. The blade embeds itself in the wood of the target.
Illumi observed your performance with a calculating gaze, his expression unreadable. When you completed the tests, he stepped closer, inspecting the target results.
"Decent accuracy with the handgun and rifle," he remarked, "but room for improvement. That stray shot could’ve been fatal in a real-world scenario."
Hisoka, however, seemed entirely unbothered by the minor flaw. "Pfft, a single miss? Hardly a concern, darling! With practice, you’ll be hitting your marks every time."
Turning to you, Illumi continued, "Your knife work is satisfactory, though perhaps a bit flashy for our purposes. We prefer subtlety and efficiency in our assassins."
He paused, studying you intently. "Overall, you demonstrate potential, but you still lack the polish and discipline required for our organization."
You listen to Illumi's critique, a small part of you stung by the criticism, but you push that aside, focusing on his words of guidance instead.
"Okay." You nodded. His cold, enigmatic demeanor makes you so aware of your surroundings.
Illumi's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded curtly. "Very well. We'll continue your training tomorrow. For now, rest and prepare yourself mentally for the challenges ahead."
With that, he turned and wanting to leave, leaving you alone with Hisoka. The latter grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don’t worry about old Illi’s harsh words, sweetheart. He’s just trying to whip you into shape."
Hisoka sauntered closer, his presence overwhelming in its intensity. "I, on the otherhand, think you’re perfect just the way you are. Though I do hope you’ll indulge me in a few... extracurricular activities tonight."
He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "I have a feeling you’d look stunning drenched in blood."
With that, Illumi shot Hisoka a glare, making him leave. Hisoka already knows that his friend Illumi is interested in you, but he doesn’t say it directly. Illumi doesn’t understand why he’s drawn to you—the cold, calculating, and emotionless man on the surface. He can’t help but make you squirm and tease you in his own way, but he mostly focuses on the mission ahead.
Illumi’s glare held a clear warning, and Hisoka knew better than to push furtyour. With a playful smirk, he bowed mockingly before turning on his heel and departing, leaving you alone once more with the enigmatic assassin leader.
Illumi returned his attention to you, his expression unreadable. "Tomorrow, we will focus on strategic thinking and adaptability. Be prepared to face unpredictable scenarios."
Without another word, he dismissed you, his actions as abrupt as they were efficient. As you exited the training room, you couldn't shake the sensation that Illumi's interest in you went beyond mere professionalism—but the cryptic nature of their interactions left you unsure how to interpret his intentions.
Later that night, Illumi entered your quarters without awaiting an invitation, his usual composed façade slipping for the briefest moment as he took in your appearance. The fleeting flash of desire in his eyes earlier seemed to intensify in this intimate setting, and despite his attempts to suppress it, he couldn’t ignore the pull.
"I trust you're resting adequately," he stated, his voice low and measured. "Tomorrow, we'll be engaging in close-quarters combat drills. Your agility serves you well, but you must learn to harness your strength more effectively."
As he spoke, Illumi’s gaze roamed over your form, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, his eyes tracing the curves of your body beneath your attire. The air between you thickened, heavy with an unspoken tension. It was a strange feeling, as though his usually tight control was slipping—something more primal simmered beneath the surface.
"Remember," his voice trailed off, his eyes still lingering on you as he tried to steady his breath. You can practically feel the heat radiating from his body as he stands closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space.
You swallow, trying to maintain composure under his intense gaze. His voice is cold and calculated, but you can’t ignore the thrill that runs through you at the sound of it. You nod, acknowledging his instructions about the upcoming training session.
The air between you both feels electric, charged with something neityour of you can fully control. As Illumi draws closer, his proximity seems to suffocate you, making it harder to breathe. Your senses heighten as he stands just a little too close, a small distance remaining between you—but not enough to ignore the intensity of his presence.
Illumi’s internal struggle was evident. His disciplined assassin’s mind was still sharp, but it was no match for the growing pull of his desires. He had been raised to control everything, to compartmentalize every part of himself—sexuality included. Yet, for some reason, you seemed to be different. This thought frustrated him; he couldn’t allow such feelings to complicate matters. But even as he thought this, his body betrayed him.
Illumi’s gaze darkened as his fingers tightened at his sides. He clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain control.
"Illumi...?" You look at him, hating yourself for the way your body seems to lean toward him. His presence is consuming, and despite your attempts to fight it, you find yourself wanting him closer.
Illumi’s resolve cracked under the weight of his desires, his stoic mask slipping away. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he closed the space between you, his hands reaching out to pull you flush against his hardened body. His touch was rough, possessive.
"You should not intrigue me so," he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "It complicates things unnecessarily."
But despite his words, his hands remained on you, his fingers pressing possessively into your waist, his body hard against yours. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, an animalistic hunger he could no longer suppress.
Your breath caught in your throat as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his muscular frame. The danger he embodies is palpable, but it only draws you closer, your body betraying your better judgment. You can feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the heat radiating from him, and yet, you can’t pull away.
His words, laced with frustration and desire, hung heavy in the air. You can sense the internal battle he’s fighting, the need to keep control clashing with something far more primal. You can practically feel the tension between you, the undeniable pull that neityour of you wants to acknowledge.
"I could say the same thing," you whisper, your voice barely audible, yet the words seem to carry a weight of their own.
Illumi’s grip tightened on you, his thumbs brushing along the sensitive skin of your lower back as he ground his body against yours. "Then perhaps we should indulge in these... complications," he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise.
With swift, practiced movements, he spun you around, pinning you against the wall. His lips crashed onto yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you as though he couldn’t get enough.
The intensity of his passion overwhelmed you, leaving you gasping for air. You clung to him, returning his kiss with equal desperation, lost in the whirlwind of sensations, pleasure, and danger that only he could provide.
You gasp as Illumi’s kiss deepens, his dominance taking over as he pulls you closer, his movements quick and forceful. The danger and excitement mix within you, the fear of what might happen next blending with a yearning you can’t deny.
His skilled tongue dances with yours, igniting a fire within you that spreads throughout your entire being, you moan softly into the kiss, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations. Ilumi's hands explore your body with a hunger that mirrors your own, leaving trails of tingling pleasure in their wake, you arch into his touch, craving more of his intoxicating caresses.
Illumi's lips left yours, trailing scorching kisses along your jawline and down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nipped and sucked at the tender flesh.
One hand slid beneath your shirt, palming the soft mound of your breast as he continued his assault on your senses. His thumb flicked over your nipple, coaxing it to peak before pinching gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.
"We shouldn't rush this," Illumi breathed, his hot exhalation fanning across your damp skin. "But I fear my restraint is wearing thin." His fingers deftly unfastened your pants, sliding inside to stroke the slick heat of your core. "Tell me to stop, if you dare."
You barely register the sound of your pants being undone until his fingers slip inside, stroking your already drenched folds, making your knees buckle slightly, you can believe this the composed assassin Illumi you know, but you can’t help but feel aroused by him/
Illumi's fingers delved deeper, curling inside you to stroke your inner walls with a practiced ease that belied his typically reserved nature, his voice a low rumble filled with dark satisfaction. "Your body knows exactly what it craves, doesn't it?"
As he spoke, he added a second finger, stretching and filling your with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The wet sounds of their intimacy mingled with your ragged breathing, creating a lewd symphony that only served to fuel Illumi's desire. Though Illumi was never one for excessive words, but in this moment, he can’t help, his voice brough
"You should see yourself now," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours as he worked your tighter. "So compliant, so eager for more. It's almost...beautiful." With a sudden twist of his wrist, he found that secret spot deep within your, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
You cry out, unable to contain the intense pleasure, your back arches. The way he is so talkative, speaks so confident, so hynoptic, sends a thrill through you, even as a part of you wonders how he can be so bold, so unashamed of his desires.
“Illumi…” you gasp as you grind further on you his hand.
"Yes?" Illumi purred, his fingers never ceasing their relentless pace as he sought to unravel you completely. "What is it you desire, little assassin? Speak, and I might grant your request."
He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Perhaps you’d prefer to break under my control, against the wall, with nothing but the sound of how you crumble to my mercy?" You gasp at his filthy words, your eyes widen of this part of him, almost possessive.
Illumi's free hand slid up your side, his palm sizzling against your overheated skin as he cupped your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "Or maybe you yearn for something more...depraved?" His thumb circled your nipple, tugging it into a tight peak that sent jolts of electricity straight to your clit.
Your breath hitches as Illumi’s words paint vivid images in your mind, each one more tantalizing than the last, his touch is addicitive, possesive, every caress igniting a fresh wave of desire within you, making you tremble.
Illumi's fingers picked up speed, plunging in and out of your quivering channel with a ruthless precision that bordered on violent, he groaned "I wonder how many times I could make you cum before you collapse from exhaustion."
He grind on your behind, bitting down on your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, as his other hand slipped beneath your shirt once more. His nails scraped across your ribs, leaving red welts in their wake, before he reached your breasts. Rough palms squeezed and kneaded the supple mounds, tweaking your nipples into stiff peaks that throbbed in time with the pounding of your heart.
"Illumi, please... "you manage to gasp out, your voice barely above a whimper.
"Yes, what?" Illumi demanded, his tone sharp with impatience. "Speak clear, Y/N"
His fingers curled inside your, rubbing that sweet spot with a maddening persistence. "Do you want me to fuck you harder? Deeper? Make you scream my name until your throat is raw?"
His fingers plunge deeper, faster, the brutal rhythm threatening to consume you whole. you can feel the coil of tension building within, making you close to your climax.
You start screaming, feeling how your orgasm wash over you and with a swift movement, not letting you relax, he spun you around making you gasp, pressing your back against the cold metal of the wall, the rough surface provides a stark contrast to the heated, intimate contact of his body pressed against yours as you gasp. One hand gripped your hip, holding your steady as the other fumbled with his belt, freeing his throbbing erection.
"I’ve decided I’m going to take what I want. Now," his tone sharp, positioning himself at your entrance.
His words are filthy, depraved, and they only serve to stoke the flames of your arousal higher, you can feel his hardness prodding at your entrance, a thick, pulsating promise of the pleasure to come.
“Yes, Illumi, fuck…please“ you admit breathlessly, your resolve crumbling under his touch and words.
With a feral snarl, Illumi surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. You cried out, your back arching as you felt him stretch your open, the sensation bordering on pain but suffused with overwhelming pleasure.
“So willing” Illumi hissed, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. "This is what you needed, isn't it? I want to hear you admit it.”
“Yes…” You nodd desperately, feeling so intense and trembeling.
“Good. “" He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, his hot breath mingling with yours. "And I'm going to give it to you over and over again, until you're begging for mercy."
A strangled moan escapes your lips as Ilumi fills you completely, the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your entire being.
Each forceful thrust drives you closer to the edge, the friction of his hard length against your sensitive inner walls pushing you towards a precipice from which there's no return.
“yes.. Iillumi please, “you pant out, your voice a broken, pleading thing as you lose yourself in the relentless pace of his hips.
"Please what,Y/N?" Illumi taunted, his start gripping your throat slightly, moving your head towards him, as he drove into your with renewed vigor. "Tell me what you need, what filthy things you want me to do to you."
He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his tongue dominated yours. At the same time, his fingers found your clit, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud with merciless precision.
"Come," he commanded, breaking the kiss to nip at your jawline. As if in response to his words, your orgasm crashed over your like a tidal wave, ripping your apart and rebuilding your anew in its aftermath. You screamed his name, your voice echoing off the walls as your pussy clamped down on his shaf.
Your mind goes blank as the intense waves of pleasure wash over you, Ilumi's relentless stimulation pushing you past the point of no return.
Your screams mingle with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the obscene squelch of your arousal coating his cock as he continues to pound into you even as you come undone.
Ilumi's command hangs in the air, a dark challenge that only serves to heighten your awareness of his own impending climax, you can feel him twitching inside you, his grip on your hips becoming almost painful as he struggles to hold back and you push into him more so you can help him.
With a guttural roar, Illumi buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within your spasming depths. Each powerful spurt seemed to go on forever, painting your insides with his essence until you are filled to bursting.
As the aftershocks of your shared climax subsided, Illumi slowly withdrew, his softening member slipping free of your abused hole with a wet pop. A trail of cum dripped down your thigh, a visible testament to the thorough breeding you just received.
"Well, that was satisfying," Illumi murmured, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he admired his handiwork.
His sharp eyes studied you for a moment, his stance unwavering. "You’re in no condition to keep standing like this."
Before you could spleak, he moved swiftly, placing a firm hand at your back to guide you toward the bed. His touch, though not gentle, was steady and unyielding. "Lie down," he commanded, his voice a low murmur.
You feel utterly exhausted, your body spent, yet vulnerable—vulnerable in a way you never thought you would be with a Zoldyck. The fear lingers that it was just a fleeting, intimate moment for him, and you long for the comfort of aftercare. You're conflicted, unable to predict his next reaction, fully aware of his cold, enigmatic, and stoic nature.
You look at him, unable to control the vulnerability in your expression. You can’t help but wonder, despite his personality and history, if you’ve become important to him—though it doesn't show on the surface.
Illumi’s gaze softened, if only for a heartbeat, as he took in your vulnerable expression. It was the briefest of cracks in his otyourwise impenetrable facade—a fleeting flicker of something raw, something human beneath his usual cold exterior.
Without a word, his fingers brushed over the marks on your neck, a touch so delicate it almost felt alien—so different from the relentless passion they had just shared. The contact was soft, almost tentative, sending a shiver through you, who couldn’t help but feel the weight of this quiet intimacy.
But just as quickly as it had appeared, the tenderness faded, replaced once more by his usual aloofness. "Get dressed," he said sharply, his voice regaining its customary chill. With his usual precision, he began to gatyour his discarded clothes, a stoic figure once more. "We have matters to attend to."
Your heart skips a beat at the brief, unexpected softness in his eyes—a connection so fleeting, so fragile, that it leaves you aching for more. But the moment evaporates as swiftly as it came, and you’re left questioning if it was ever truly there or just a brief illusion, a crack in the facade that closed too soon.
Can… you stay a little longer? you ask, a quiet uncertainty in your voice, hesitant of how he’ll respond.
Illumi freezes for a moment at your request, his assassin’s discipline momentarily faltering. The connection between you is something unfamiliar, something he hasn’t had to process before. His mind is caught between his hardened, emotionally detached instincts and the surprising intensity of the bond you're offering.
Illumi paused, his hand hovering just above his shirt as he considered your words. The room grew heavy with the tension of his contemplation. Finally, without a word, he sat down on the bed, his posture rigid, but not dismissive. He was clearly weighing something—something beyond his control.
"You want me to stay," he said flatly, his voice cold but with a slight edge of curiosity. His eyes never left yours. "Is that because you enjoyed our...interlude? Or is it something else entirely?"
There was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, a brief crack in his impassive exterior that he quickly masked. It was evident that You’s unexpected emotional intimacy had caught him off guard, forcing him to confront feelings and desires that he had never fully acknowledged before.
Your heart races as you watch Illumi sit, his presence overwhelming, as always, but now more than ever, it pulls you in despite the tension between you. His words cut through you, making your emotions feel more tangled, and you realize just how much you’ve invested in this moment—how much you’ve allowed yourself to feel.
"Yes... and no, " you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, stepping closer, but still unsure.
You reach out, pausing, as if to test the waters, before carefully placing your hand on his knee. A quiet hope stirs within you—that this small touch, this tentative gesture, might offer the reassurance both of you are craving.
Illumi’s muscles stiffen at your touch, a sharp breath escaping his lips as your fingers make contact. For a long moment, he doesn’t move, just staring at where your hand rests on his knee, as though trying to process the strange new feelings this simple connection stirs within him.
Slowly, cautiously, he places his hand over yours. His touch is deliberate, firm, and warm, but there’s a hesitation in it—a carefulness that reflects how much he’s struggling with the emotions that you’ve brought to the surface. "I see," he says quietly, his voice low, but there’s a shift in it. "In that case, I suppose I can spare a few more minutes."
Illumi stands, his hand hovering briefly before he reaches for you. When he pulls you into his arms, the gesture is stiff, almost as if he’s testing how to navigate this unfamiliar territory. His arms wrap around you, but the embrace feels tentative, as though he’s still unsure of what to do with the warmth he’s suddenly feeling.
In the stillness of that moment, Illumi’s heart races in his chest, the thundering beat a stark contrast to the icy calm he’s always projected, betraying the chaos he’s desperately trying to suppress.
As Illumi pulls you into his arms, a sense of calm washes over you. His warmth is solid and grounding, a stark contrast to the heat and chaos of your previous encounter. You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring the closeness—the simple, quiet connection that feels like it might be more than just physical.
Though your emotions swirl within you, you keep them in check, not wanting to overwhelm him. Instead, you focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat that seems to anchor you both in this rare moment of peace.
"Thank you," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your own heart.
Illumi’s arms tightened around you, holding you tight. The soft pressure of his body against yours was a sensation he hadn’t known before, and it both unsettled and captivated him.
"For what, exactly?" Illumi asks, his voice cool, but with a subtle hint of curiosity. "I'm not used to such gestures. Explain to me, why do you feel the need for this?"
But even as he spoke, Illumi didn’t pull away. Instead, his body stiffened for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing your temple in a brief, but telling gesture. It was a small act, a flicker of something he rarely allowed himself to show—soft, but unmistakably affectionate. It wasn’t much, but in that fleeting touch, something subtly shifted between them, a crack in the ice that had always surrounded him.
The press of his lips against your temple sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. The tenderness of the gesture, despite his usual stoicism, made you ache for more. You leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the intimacy that had quietly bloomed between you, fragile but undeniably real.
"For being here," you reply softly, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "For trying, even if it’s not something you're used to."
"Don’t get used to this," he murmurs, his tone strangely quiet, almost as if he's speaking to himself, not wanting to admit the slight shift inside him.
Illumi’s grip on you relaxed just slightly, his thumb stroking gentle circles on your back. Your words, simple as they were, had touched something within him. "Trying," he muttered, his brow furrowing slightly. "Perhaps that's an understatement for what we’ve done. But with you… it feels different. Necessary, almost."
He trailed off, his words unspoken, but the emotion behind them clear. Illumi was used to being distant, to keeping his feelings locked away. But with you, that wall had started to crumble—piece by piece, allowing something deeper to emerge.
Your heart swells at Illumi’s honesty, his words a raw admission that makes you feel even more connected to him. You press yourself closer, wanting to bridge the emotional gap between you, to share in the understanding that seems to be growing between you both.
"I feel the same, Illumi," you whisper, your voice sincere and filled with unspoken understanding.
Illumi's breath caught in his throat at your words. The sincerity in your voice reverberated through him, stirring something deep he wasn't prepared for. For years, he'd hardened himself against the idea of emotional connections—intimacy had always been something distant, too complicated to allow. But with you, the tension was palpable, like something he couldn’t push away, something he wasn’t sure how to control.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was gentle, but with an intensity that spoke volumes. It was a stark contrast to the fierceness of their earlier encounter, but somehow, it felt more consuming—this kiss was softer, but it lingered with a weight he couldn’t ignore. It felt different, like a shift, like something he couldn't quite put into words.
As the kiss deepened, Illumi became painfully aware of every touch—your body pressed against his, the softness of your skin, the way your breath matched his, shallow but steady. Every movement seemed to pull him in deeper, and for once, Illumi couldn't escape it. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed him, but it was a feeling he found himself craving—something he hadn't realized he'd been missing until now.
#smut#illumi x oc#illumi x reader#illumi x hisoka#illumi zoldyck#hunter x hunter#hunter x hunter fanart#hxh illumi#hxh killua#naruto smut#killua zoldyck#killua hunter x hunter#killua fanart#killua x reader#alluka#gon freecs#leorio paladiknight#leorio#hxh chrollo#chrollo lucilfer#phantom troupe#chrollo x reader#chrollo hunter x hunter#hunter hunter#pakunoda#kurapika#hxh leorio#kurapika kurta#gon freecss#killua x gon
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𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍.
𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌. 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙖𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨. 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙.
𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝.
𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮/𝙣 𝙮/𝙡/𝙣, outer banks’ hottest couple. the couple everyone idolized and wished they could be. girls all over the island wanted to be her. guys all over the island wanted to be him. the parties, the drugs, the love, the money. what more could anyone want on the island of outer banks?
one look at the couple would leave you questioning how two people could be so picture perfect. driving their fancy and brand new cars, never dirty and never a scratch or dent. always smiling, showing off loads of pda on any occasion. looking like they stepped right out of a romantic comedy movie. the type of couple you would watch on the tv as a child and only dream to have the impossible.
she was a walking goddess. from her shining smile to her sweet angelic laugh. her hair was shinier than anything anyone’s ever seen. she smelt like heaven. her perfume was intoxicating and left anyone who smelt it in another mindset. she seemed to never have a pimple, a bad day, never a hair out of place. her skin was buttery smooth, shiny and clear. some would say she quite literally was glowing. always dressed in luxury brands, heels on any occasion, the newest and most expensive handbags with matching jewelry. her nails never having a chip. always manicured to perfection, toes painted white. she didn’t need to work, her family had it all. she had money up to her head, swimming in the bills. she just got to prance around town, going to every shop in the mall, just to go home to her prince charming.
he was the guy every girls wanted since he hit puberty. standing at six foot four, built with muscles that would have any girl fainting. his cologne reeked of money and power. his deep husky voice made anyone melt in their spot, fawning over his even deeper chuckle. his smirk was extremely attractive and caused far too many girls to squeeze their thighs together. his captivating ocean blue eyes holding an intimidating gaze but at the same time, all anyone wanted to do was dive into them. he was every girls dream man. the type of guy they wished to marry as little girl dressed like a princess. although his flaws were out in the open for anyone to observe. everyone in outer banks knew of his explosive tendencies. his willingness to fight anyone who ticked him off in the slightest. his haunting cocaine addiction that only added to the ticking time bomb inside of him. his deep hatred for pogues never went unannounced. if you weren’t his friend or fawning over him, you hated him.
he would die for you and he’s told you that far too many times.
what more could anyone want? a picture perfect life straight out of a fairytale with just the added bonus of a boyfriend who would fight any guy who even gave you a sideways glance. 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙮𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡.
keep your eyes up as you traverse the driveway, past the gates and up the steps to the front door. don’t bother knocking, no one’s going to answer. turn the knob and open the door. watch the true rafe cameron and y/n y/l/n unfold right in front of your eyes.
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as many are lead to believe, rafe cameron is an explosive shell of a man who can’t handle his fragile masculinity being threatened. unafraid to scream in anyone’s faces if they try to test him. didn’t matter if it was his family, friend, man or woman. even his girlfriend. right?
let’s actually scrap that. that’s how he was before he met you. y/n changed his life around. he felt he was able to control his anger better. he could talk things out without a fight unlike his previous ‘relationships’. he felt calm when he walked the halls of his childhood home for once in his lifetime. only because he knew he was walking to him room where you resided. you and your warm embrace. your angelic laugh and cosmic smile. he felt like he was living in a fan fiction, a dream. in reality it was a nightmare, a horror movie.
six months and six days is all it took for y/n to change. you were a nightmare dressed as a daydream. you knew the game all too well. how to dig deep into his brain and feelings. you knew just the way to make him feel safe and secure. to back down. lose his confidence in defense. he won’t fight back anymore. that was something you are confident in. an confident you should be.
the first time it happened, it was a sunny saturday afternoon on topper thornton’s boat. rafe was talking with kelce while you and topper were at the front of the boat. he had just broken up with sarah and he always had his eye on you. rafe had been alerted by your all too familiar flirty tone and even flirtier giggle. it made his head snap to you guys, only to be met with your hand feeling up his bicep. he didn’t want to accuse you in front of everyone, but he was twitching to say something. an excuse later, the day was cut short and you were back in an empty tannyhill with no one but rafe.
“were you fucking flirting with topper?”
that set you off. how dare he accuse you of flirting with his best friend? “what the fuck rafe? why would i ever do that?” you asked in disbelief, anger bubbling all too quickly. although you knew that you were and you didn’t care. you would do what you pleased. he wouldn’t hear that from your lips though.
that was your first real fight. one sentence caused a full on screaming match between the two of you. one sentence caused rafe to find out who you really were behind those sparking eyes and perfect face. he should’ve known it was too good to be true. he would never get his happy ending. a guy like him didn’t deserve it.
before he knew it, you were grabbing the closest thing to you and chucking it with a strength he never expected you to have. it was a glass statue. one that shattered upon impact and left him littered with glass shards in his delicate skin. the impacted areas began to bleed nearly immediately and you just walked away. he would clean up the mess he started on his own.
he broke a seal that day. every little thing began setting you off that he did wrong in your eyes. which was nearly everything. the slightest tone change or glance in the wrong way and he would earn yet another bruise to his body. you were stronger than your small body gave off. way too strong. a slap, a punch, something thrown, it didn’t matter. you were doing one or all on the daily at this point. he put up with the torture for months.
rafe began crying more than he was smiling. he was left to clean up your mess on his own, bandaging himself up, crying from the pain as he showered. the hot water hitting every spot causing a burning sensation that made his body feel like it was on fire. he was living in hell everyday with you.
not once would he fight back. he knew you would run with it and twist the story. your father was more prominent than his and would do anything for his little girl. his life would be ruined way too quick if he put his hands on you. he took it with pressed lips and dull eyes that held nothing but pain and sorrow. the love that once lit up his eyes slipped away, taking his bright blue hue with it. leaving nothing but dull gray regret in its place.
it was only a few days after your thousandth fight that you began using his cocaine. you told him he didn’t need it and needed to stop anyways. it formed an addiction in your veins that left you high everyday, unable to function without it. it only made you meaner, stronger. the bruise here and there turned into bruises littering his body daily.
he had even ended up in the hospital once. he had nightmares about that day. you were cutting up some fruit when he set you off and your first instinct was to throw the knife directly at him. it hit just next to his heart by pure magic and he was rushed to the hospital.
you spent hours of your life putting makeup on his visible bruises to hide what you truly were behind closed, locked, and bolted doors. he was forced to act happy and in love. the pictures you two posted kept up the idea of just how perfect you two were. no one even batted an eye and the two of you. why would they? you were perfect together after all.
you sat at his desk, snorting lines while he was in bed rest from the stab wound. you starved him and would leave to be with topper. he could fend for himself after all. he was a grown man who did nothing but push your buttons. like a little kid in an elevator.
he would be in too much pain to move so he laid there until he was able to get wheezie to bring him something. he would open instagram or snapchat just to be met with pictures of you and topper. waterworks began like clockwork.
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he would rather be dead than live another day as your boyfriend.
after being hospitalized again, rafe cameron had decided he had enough. once he recovered, he stood across the living room from you. he wasn’t backing down this time. he was fighting back.
“y/n you can’t keep doing this to me! you’re going to kill me! i never did anything to you to deserve this kind of treatment. i fucking loved you and you had the audacity to flirt with my best friend!” the blonde boy yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
you could only laugh, crossing your arms across your chest in a testing manor. “you’re a big boy rafe. you can handle it. i told you time and time again that i never acted in any flirtatious way towards topper.”
“that’s bullshit. i see all the shit you two post. no best friends post like that. especially when one of them are in a relationship.” he scoffed, rolling eyes following. “i’ve had enough of it y/n. i have no feelings but hatred for you now. i’m fucking done!”
“you’re done? good luck rafe. you can never leave me and you know that. your father will be pissed you fucked up such a big business deal for him.” you said, laughing at the audacity this boy had.
“i’ll tell him what you’ve been doing. why im really in the hospital, why his shit is really broken almost daily. i’ll tell the police, your family, everyone. you’ll be the one with nothing. i would rather be dead than with you another minute.” he threatened, narrow his eyes. his heart was racing a million miles per hour. his anxiety was through the roof and quite frankly, he was scared.
“oh yeah? you’re going to tell everyone? listen to me carefully rafe cameron.” you snapped, tone dark and senile. you began stepping closer to him. he only backed up in response until he was against a wall. he was trapped as you got in his face.
“you are nothing without me. you’ll have no friends left. everyone will believe that you’re just the same coke addicted, hotheaded, fucking piece of shit you’ve always been. you were always getting in fights and suddenly that just stopped? oh no. no one will believe that. you’re just an insecure little bitch with daddy issues. ward would never believe you and he will never love you rafe. you’re no sarah, get that through your thick skull. all that matters when it comes to you is that you see through this business deal for him. do you really think anyone will believe a little boy that can’t do anything right? a little boy that could never do anything right in the public’s eyes. keep talking your bullshit and see where it gets you.” you ranted, voice holding venom. a dark twisted laugh escaped your perfectly glossed plump lips. “if you would rather be dead, than so be it. i’ll make sure that happens. you’ve always said you’d die for me.” you said, a smirk growing.
your eyes were devoid of emotion, almost pitch black. he had never seen them like that before. he had never seen you turn into a full blown psychopath. he seemed to have really pushed you over the edge this time. he had a feeling he would never get his happy ending. he was about to meet his end today. there was no way out of this. he signed his death contract the day he asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes. he realizes that now. slowly as the minutes pass, he comes to peace with his inevitable death at your hands.
he was at peace with the fact he would never feel his fathers love. his friends aren’t his friends. you aren’t who he fell in love with. he was never good enough. just a fuck up. a disgrace to the cameron family name. you were right in the end. you always were.
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rafe cameron’s death was the talk of the island. not a single soul wasn’t talking about it. you were painted as the grieving girlfriend who was the victim in all of it. an autopsy was never performed on his body. his death was passed as an overdose from cocaine. after all, he had loads of it in his room and all over his desk. his friends warned him about his addiction. it would kill him. only they didn’t realize it was a different addiction that would kill him.
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𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙮’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨!
first fic! it went a completely different direction than i had planned but that’s alright! what do we think? i also haven’t proofread it yet, so excuse any typos! <3 hope you enjoyed it!
#rafe cameron x yn#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe obx#outer banks#angst#toxic relationship
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OKAY GUYSSS, Nika's post on instagram has made me feel so much better about her. I'm sure it's still gonna be tough and all but she's resilient and will just get better than before the injury. And with that being said...
IIT GAVE ME MOTIVATION TO WRITE. So...anon who suggested this....i finally have it written. ENJOY!!
"NOTRE DAMN" - N.M.
words: 823
Warnings: none i can
Summary: Reader gets hurt while playing against Notre Dame. Nika helps her.
JANUARY 27, 2024
NOTRE DAME VS UCONN
GAMPEL
2nd quarter, 20 seconds left on the clock. We were down by three, one shot is all it took to tie it before half time. I ran up the court, finding a place to shoot if the ball was passed to me. I watched as the opposing team switched to their defense, the rest of the huskies running down the court.
Nika ran down the court, ball in hand, calling out plays. Her eyes met mine, nodding throwing me the ball. Wide open, easy shot, that’s what you’d think.
As I’m going up, a player, number 5, Olivia Miles, comes up to guard me. She jumps to block, not really slowing down. As I’m up in the air, I feel her body collide with mine. I lose hold of the ball, I fall back, my feet not able to hit the floor. My back hits the ground, my head bouncing off the court, pain shooting through my body.
I roll around trying to find a position that doesn’t cause pain, but anyway that I move it hurts. My head throbbing, back aching, I felt nothing but pain. I felt someone place they’re hand on my head, I opened my eyes. Nika.
“Hey, baby, you alright?” She was worried, I couldn’t even put together the words to make her feel better.
“My head…it hurts,” I manage out, Nika nodding. She helps me up, giving me a look. I couldn’t tell what she was getting at.
“You want me to carry you over to the bench?” I nod, my body felt like I was going to drop with just standing. She picks me, holding me bridal style, walking me over to the bench.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby, okay?” Nika’s voice soft, I nodded in response. She was weirdly calm, but I wasn’t paying attention to that.
She placed a kiss on my forehead, “They have no shot at winning this, we’ll win this for you,” her smile blinding yet comforting. I nodded.
“I know you will, niks.”
And the team did just that, Nika especially. She locked down on Miles, causing her to become frustrated, fouling out. As it was announced that she had fouled out, Nika sent me a look, a smile plastered on her face. I just laughed. She sent me a thumbs up, a look of concern on her face. I sent her one back, she nods. The rest of the game, flawless from UConn side. Shots falling in, defense never backing down, and everything was being done by everyone. This game had to have been the best game ever played by this team ever.
Paige hitting six threes, a total of 27 points, a couple blocks. The freshman totaling 30 points together. Then, there was Nika. 18 points, four threes and 5 steals. Her adding up on her assists with 11 in this game. A double-double, to say the least, I was proud of her.
“Best game ever! You played so well, Niks!” I walked over to her, bringing her into a hug. She nuzzled her head into my neck.
“Mhmm, all for you, y/n,” I blushed, melting into the hug more. She lifts her head up, her hand finding it’s place on my cheek, “You feel alright?”
I nod, “Better, but they think I have a concussion.” Her face dropped slightly; I wouldn’t be able to play a couple games with her.
“Hey, it’s alright,” I said, her eyes never leaving mine, “It’s the better outcome then what it could’ve been.”
“You not having a concussion?”
I swat at her arm, “No, Nika,” I laugh, “I was scared I did something to my back or my neck. They said that it might just be some bruising.”
She nods, her smile returning, “That’s good news.”
“Why are you so smiley?”
“I’m here with you.”
I blush, “I would kiss you right now.”
“Do it.”
“Nika…people would find ou-“
“I don’t care about other people; I care about you. I want you to kiss me,” I hesitated, she took that as her sign to kiss me. In the room full of people, she kissed me. After hiding for months, she’s finally kissed me in public where people could see.
“Why? Why’d you do that?”
“I love you more than my reputation,” she paused, “Which reminds me…I said a lot of things to get under Olivia’s skin so.”
I tilt my head, “And what exactly did you say?”
“Too much to say now, we should go with the team,” She begins to pull me towards the team, her hand interlocked with mine.
Paige sees us, a smile big on her face, “Y’all’s kiss made it on TV!”
I look over at Nika, a smile resting on her face, “Good, then everyone will know not to screw around with my girl,” She looks at me, “How do you feel about that, the kiss on TV?”
“Everyone will know I’m the luckiest person ever.”
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A/N: if this happens to be trash....i'm sorry
#nika muhl#wbb#wnba basketball#wcbb#wnba#wnba players#uconn wbb#womens basketball#nika muhl x reader#wbb x reader
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Pretty like the wind
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a/n Part eight! Buckle up, that's all I will say. Much love.🤍🥹
warning: kids, past trauma, wing clipping, wounds, blood, all the horrors of Illyrian camps.
Not proof read yet!!!
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The room felt warm and quiet. You could hear people talking outside as they passed by, but it didn't bother you. The sound was muffled enough to mix and twirl with the sounds of the river. You had no idea when the last time you slept so peacefully was. Not a single night terror. Not a single flinch. There was no need to jump up every time an unknown sound filled the room. This felt safe. Happy. You blinked a couple of times. You could tell that the room was brightly illuminated by the morning sun, but no direct sunlight hit your eyes. Now you know why. Azriel had his wing wrapped around you, the bridge of it acting as your shield against the careless beam of light. You reached up mindlessly, brushing the tips of your fingers over the delicate leather, making Azriel growl ever so slightly.
You moved to turn towards him. Last night felt like a dream. Cordelia, Azriel's mother, had welcomed you with so much love that it was overwhelming. Zofie and Axel were high on attention. They sang all the songs they knew and even danced together. You had never seen them so lively. So eager to be on the receiving end of attention. Sure, they enjoyed the activities in the sanctuary. But most of them were mandatory. Children had to attend classes and have afternoon activities. And yes, they smiled while doing it, but it never came close to the smile that shined on their faces last night.
You moved your hand to the side, where Zofie usually slept. Eager to brush your fingers through her, no doubt, messy hair since she was way too tired last night to detangle her curls. But all you were met with were the cold sheets. Your heart instantly sank. Your body jolted as you sat up, pushing Azriel's wing away.
"Where are they?", your words came out almost breathless as you looked across the room. There was no sign of Axel either. A warm palm moved to caress your lower back. "Hey, calm down", the spymaster's voice was low and husky. Laced with deep sleep. And even if you wanted to bask in the sight of him, your anxious brain quickly pushed the image of him sprawled out next to you away. "Azriel", you hissed, moving to get out of bed, but he quickly caught your wrist. "They are with my mom", he muttered. "Alone?", your eyes darted towards the window. So many what-ifs were clouding your vision.
"Get back in bed", you felt a tug on your hand. But it was not only the fear for your kids that clawed at you. You two hadn't talked after the kiss. You sat on his lap last night. He had an arm wrapped around your lower back. A feathery kiss here and there. But... what if it was just a high of the moment? What if he had changed his mind? The next tug was way stronger. Azriel practically dragged you up and over his chest. As if it was nothing. As if moving your body around was the easiest thing ever.
"Azriel", you huffed, trying to fight against his touch but knowing full well that there was no way you were getting away from him. So you turned to face him. His loving eyes were already gazing at you. The shadowsinger made a quick move by pushing some of the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes before muttering, "My shadows are with them. They are safe. Mom is looking after them". You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he cut in quickly, "They are eating street pancakes now". A light smile tugged at his lips. A knowing one. "How do...", you muttered. "I see through my shadows. They are safe and happy", Azriel said with a little chuckle, no doubt watching these two do something they probably shouldn't.
"And before you ask, yes, they have mittens on", Azriel jabbed his fingers into your side, making you squirm. "Fuck you", you huffed, rolling your eyes. A deep chuckle slipped through his lips. "I would not decline", the spymaster said in a teasing manner. You gapped at him, shoving at his shoulder. "Azriel", you winced, hating how your cheeks were already getting crimson. "You say my name awfully often this morning, love", he breathed out innocently. But the embarrassment that ran through you had you hiding your face in his neck. Azriel instantly opted to run his palm up and down your back. Fingers innocently brushing against the ham of the shirt you had on. His shirt. Because magically, all of your nightgowns had disappeared, and last night you didn't want to argue with Azriel about it. A tight pang ran through your chest. Brushing a dark layer over the sweet moment. It all felt too good. Too nice. Too calm. You had never... never had a chance to have a boyfriend growing up, so, love, let's say it's been tucked deeply into your chest. Dusty, forgotten. So it couldn't just come undone so easily. Right?
"Stop worrying", Azriel grumbled. You could feel the way his chest moved with every word that he spoke. The fact that he could read you so well when, for so many years, no one could... "I can't", you muttered so quietly. Voice barely a whisper. Azriel quickly shifted, pulling just enough for him to see your face. "Do you think I would seriously let them do something that would put them in harm's way?", his voice was much more serious now. There's not a thread of that teasing undertone. Puff. Gone. A soldier made of steel.
You shake your head, "No", you hate the doubt that still rumbles deep within your gut. "I'm just scared to let them go... I don't know", you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. Azriel quickly cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. "You gave them a chance at a beautiful life, love. This just adds to it". You let out a sigh. "Well, so did you", you smiled at Azriel softly, finger running over his eyebrows, trying to learn every detail of his face. "They adore you", you humed after a moment of silence. The memory of Zofie and Axel making this hulk of a male twirl in the kitchen last night flushed through your mind. "I adore you", Azriel mused softly. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Smooth", you muttered, shaking your head.
But you're met with Azriel's dazed eyes. As if there's nothing he would rather be looking at than you. As if you are the most important thing right now. "You look pretty", and it's the endless love-sick words that cause you to drop your gaze as you try to hide your face from him. "Very funny", you mutter. You could only imagine how disheveled you looked. Messy hair, no makeup. Not put together at all. Most males would run. But not Azriel, as you feel his fingers moving over your bare thighs. "I'm serious. It's like you're... glowing", and you can't take his adorations any longer as you move closer to him, reaching for his face. "What are you doing?", Azriel says as you move to straddle his hips. You only throw him a grin and say, "Keeping your mouth busy."
You two were halfway through your breakfast when the door creaked open and fits of giggles filled the place. You nearly fell back as you moved to stand up, hurrying towards the hallway. Too long. They had been away from you for too long. Waking up without them next to you had left you anxious, no matter the distractions. "Y/n", cheerful squealing filled the space as the two kids took off towards you, muddy shoes still on. "My babies", you kneeled instantly, opening your arms to them. Not minding the cool material of their winter clothes, dampened by the snow.
But keeping them still seemed impossible. Too much energy and excitement still bubbled within their tiny bodies. "You would not believe it! There's a fountain with spinning water fairies", Axel beamed, his hands flailing upwards as he showed you different shapes. "And there are golden flowers, too", Zofie pulled at your hand eagerly. "That sounds beautiful. I hope you were behaving nicely", you looked at the two of them as they nodded their heads.
Azriel watched you from the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest. He had seen the things they had gone up to, so it was you who had his full attention. The way the blanket of worry melted away. Leaving the smell of happiness behind. No longer was there a painful tug deep within him. The pain seemed glossed over. Gone simply. Watching you smile at the two kids, he suddenly realized that he would be fine with watching you like this forever. In reality, it seemed as if he needed nothing else. "Granny bought us roasted chestnuts to try", now those words had made Azriel bite down on his breath, and from your way, your shoulders stiffened; he knew that it struck you too. Granny. Azriel wondered how long it would take his mother to usher the kids to her side. Even if his childhood was horrible, his mother was the only thing keeping him alive. That hour, which Azriel was allowed to spend with her, always fueled him. Ignited enough strength so the tiny bat would not crumble completely.
"These two had stolen the whole town's hearts", Cordelia mused happily, arms full with bags, Azriel moved swiftly, taking them from her. A knowing look on her face said it all. Azriel didn't need to say anything. If he could fool his brothers, he could never fool his mother. "Did you two say thank you?", you gave both of the kids a look, and they once again nodded eagerly. Not missing a beat. Cordelia smiled right back at them.
"Y/N, can I have a quick word?" The older lady turned your way, and dread instantly bloomed within you. You threw Azriel a look, but he just shrugged his shoulders before turning to the two troublemakers, drawing shapes in the mud that they stomped inside. "Let's get you two washed up", he said, lifting the two of them easily, each resting in the crook of Azriel's armpits, laughing hysterically.
"I hope they haven't caused too much trouble, ma'am", you stood up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Making a mental note to mop the floors after. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed on Cordelia", she shook her head in disbelief, but the smile didn't leave her face. "And it's not about the kids...", her eyes followed the noise coming from the end of the hallway. You could hear the mixture of laughter drowning out the silent walls. "It's about my boy", Cordelia breathed.
You watched her gaze get distant for a moment before she squeezed your hand. "My boy, I see the way he looks at you. Last night he couldn't keep his eyes off you", your cheeks heated at her words. You thought the glances were careful. Not too obvious, but it seemed you had been wrong.
"He's a handful at times, but... when he loves... he loves with all that he has", sadness lined her words now. You knew snippets of his past. Who hadn't? The whole court drummed with stories of him. His arms were a dead giveaway of his traumatic upbringing. But you never held that against him. It was a part of him. A part that needed to be loved just as much. "Don't play with his heart", Cordelia's last words came out more like a plea, and your heart bled alongside hers.
"I'll cherish it; I will", You turned to the elderly lady, taking both of her hands into hers. She threw you one of her signature-knowing looks. "Promise to bring my grandchildren around often. Been waiting way too long for them", you can't help but chuckle lightly. You doubted you would be able to hold Zofie and Axel away even if you wanted. They had fallen hard for the love they never got to experience. A grandmother's love. You turned to reach for the rest of the scattered things when Cordelia caught your hand. "And, YN", she said softly, "You were meant to find each other". It felt as if your chest hallowed out for a moment before filling with so much light that it was almost too painful to bear.
Azriel grew more worried as the day moved toward the evening. He was planning and talking with Rhys through his mind. Setting up the final times for the dinner. Shoving Rhys smug ass right out when his brothers started teasing. He was nervous. Was he nervous? He realized now that he had never brought anyone around. Well, he wasn't an innocent man. The three of them had shared females in the same room while they were young. But this wasn't that. This was so much more than that. The thought of having to share you with anyone made Azriel's blood run thick. No, you were his. As much as he didn't want to grow possessive, his scent had mingled with yours. In the same way, notes of oranges and vanilla were now intertwined with his musky scent, in more than one way, you had became his.
A thud from behind the closed door made Azriel lift his head. Axel and he had been waiting in the living room for you and Zofie to get ready. And while Axel had been fully occupied with the book that Cordelia had slipped into his hands, Azriel was growing impatient. He hadn't seen you for over a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long that was.
He heard you hissing Zofie's name, making his eyebrows scrunch. "What's going on in there", the spymaster muttered under his breath. Mostly to himself. So he was more than surprised when he heard a response,"You know females", Axel laughed under his breath, not lifting his eyes from the pages. "Axel", Azriel brushed his hand over his stubble as he tried to contain his smile. That boy was seriously way too smart for his age. Azriel chose to stay back until he could hear the frustrated stomping; that was enough to pull him from his chair.
"Can I come in?", he breathed after knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately, and Mother have mercy on him. He was ready to fall to his knees as his eyes landed on you. Wavy hair falling behind your shoulder, and a deep blue velvet dress hugging every curve of your body. And all of a sudden, the top button of Azriel's shirt felt too tight, cutting off the normal airflow, pants too itchy. The spymaster quickly pulled his eyes away from you, trying to find something else to look at.
"What's wrong", he tried to peek behind your shoulder. Getting a glimpse of Zofie with her hands crossed over her chest. You let out a sigh as you stepped aside, "She doesn't like her hair". Azriel strided ahead, moving toward the little ball of frustration, glaring at the floor as if it had done something to personally offend her.
"Hey, what's wrong?", Azriel directs the question at Zofie, who only pouts harder. "My hair", the girl tugs at her messy curls, the color of the night itself. As wild as her too. "I think it looks pretty", Azriel says softly, but Zofie is quiet enough to throw him a look that tells him that she's not buying his bullshit, no matter how hard he tried. Azriel just shakes his head in disbelief. These kids... His eyes catch a glimpse of a light blue ribbon, his hand reaching towards it almost subconsciously. "Come, sit on my lap", the shadowsinger urges the girl up the bed before his fingers brush through her long hair. And soon he finds himself in that long-forgotten rhythm of braiding someone's hair.
The rest of the evening was a big blur. Brushing at Axel's shirt. Reassuring Zofie that there was nothing to fear. Cordelia waving you all goodbye. Azriel talking, but you barely heard him through your panic. And then there's Rhys walking towards you all on his massive balcony, arms outstretched.
"Welcome, I was worried Azriel had hidden you in his cave", the high lord jabbed at his brother, making Azriel roll his eyes. But he doesn't say anything; his attention is more focused on Zofie, who has her head hidden in the crook of his neck.
"It's good to see you here, darling", Rhys reaches for your hands, and even if you know this man, had seen him at his lowest, it still feels weird being here like this. You work in his sanctuary. You are summoned by him. But it's only his office you agree to go to. Only if he winnows you straight there and back. And you know deep down that you two are linked in more than one way, but you push those thoughts away.
"It's good to be here", you say, smiling up at him. "Hope my brother didn't give you too much of a hard time", Rhys chimed, making you turn towards Azriel, who stood there more than unimpressed. "I'll issue you a paycheck", you chuckle, and you could swear that even Azriel's lip twitched with a smile for a moment.
"Uff, right in the nuts", another, much louder voice cuts in, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tiles. "Cassian, there are kids around", a female tugged at the winged male's shirt tightly, but that only made his grin wider. "I've seen your head", and it's Axel who's pointing his little finger at the high lord. You quickly bat his finger away, shaking your head at him for the inappropriate gesture. But Rhys doesn't seem to mind as he leans closer to the boy, "And I've heard that you're growing up to be quite a soldier", your eyes darted up to Azriel. Had he been talking about you all with his family? Well, of course, he planned this, but... you can plan something without talking about the person you bring. But Azriel has a proud smile on his face as he watches the boy, and the way his eyes grow big. "Will give us competition, huh", Cassian adds, and you could swear Axel holds himself even taller as he glances at the two males, nodding.
"Why don't we all go inside", a female moves to wrap her arm around Rhys. You don't even need her to introduce herself; you know who she is, Feyre. You've seen her through Rhys's eyes, and, well, she's even more beautiful in person. "Come, my son is excited to meet you too, bud", Rhys reaches for Axel, who clasps the lord's hand tightly. You feel Azriel's hand on the small of your back as he ushered you towards the glass door.
The evening is nothing but lovely. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows surprisingly easily. The light-teasing remarks and jokes that keep flying left and right slowly eat at the tension in your shoulders. And sure, they all seem nice, but you also understand why being here would hurt Azriel. You would have to be blind to not see the amount of love that pours out of the two couples. And even if you were blind, you would still feel it. It's in the air. The looks. The touches. You imagine how lonely it must have been for Azriel. How... your hand reaches for his beneath the table, giving it a little squeeze. The spymaster glances your way, a light smile tugging at his lips.
Your eyes dart toward the three kids next. Nyx is about Zofie's age, and quite frankly, from the moment he saw her, he's been looking at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky. But the two are way too shy to talk to one another. So it's Axel who's been babbling away all evening. You can't help but smile once more. It would be lovely for them to have another friend. Someone out of their circle. And Nyx has wings too. Him and Axel could learn together. The boy practically has a heart of gold, so you're nothing but sure that he would never make fun of Axel for the way his wings were. Considering that that hadn't been brought up ever once tonight.
Just suddenly, the door burst. You don't even get to turn your head to the side before you feel Azriel moving to stand up; the absence of him is instantly unsettling. And then you see it. Someone you knew was missing from this table all along.
"Elain", Azriel's voice is filled with disbelief, and your gut curls into itself. You grip your fork tightly. What right did you have to get upset over this? You watch the surprise rippling through the female, who looks shocked to see Azriel. It doesn't help that she's gorgeous too. From her perfectly braided hair to her light pink dress, she's the complete opposite of you. "Azriel?", she says, shaking her head before leaping into his arms. And something about that hug. The way he's holding onto her sides and the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck makes you want to run away and hide. You feel a light tug at your side, turning to find the two kids now by your chair. Big eyes, full of questions, watching you.
"I thought...", the female stuttered, right as another male walked through the door, still fixing his shirt. "We do apologize for being late", his dark red hair swaying as he moved towards the table. "No, I'm aware that you two have been busy", Rhys purred back with a smirk. A knowing look painted the autumn male's features. "You... you accepted the bond?", Azriel muttered, and it's as if he's freely chosen to take chunks of your heart out tonight. And you're ready to talk and listen about anything but this. You don't want to be here anymore. Anything, you plead, give me anything.
As if summoned by you, a paper note falls right onto Rhys's plate. The male startles for a moment before reaching for it. His face darkens more and more as his eyes race through the words. The high lord's eyes meet yours over the table, "North Camp," and that's all you need to hear before moving to get up.
The dinner is long forgotten after that. Rhys winnows everyone back to the sanctuary. The grip Zofie and Axel have on you is making it hard for you to move. The troupe is getting armed, and you know that you need to be doing the same. "I want to go to Grammy", Zofie says quietly into your skirt. You kneel in front of them, "We can't go now. You two will have to stay in our old room", you say softly. You never had to leave with them present, and suddenly you realize why. Leaving them like this is more than painful.
"I can take them," Feyre cuts in. You saw the way all color disappeared from her face when she saw all of these kids and females in front of her. "You two hear that, high lady will take you to Cordelia", you cup their faces gently. "And Azriel?", Axel looks around, trying to spot the tall figures through the sea of bodies. "I don't know, bud. He was never a part of our world anyway", you hate the words that slip past your lips the moment you see confusion running through the boy's eyes. Your petty hurt is the last thing they need now. So, you kiss both of their foreheads and say, "Don't get into too much trouble without me", you flick both of their noses playfully before stepping away quickly. Turning from them so they won't see the tears on your face.
"Stay close", the voice alone has a shiver running down your back. You turn to face him. Azriel is in full Illyrian leathers, striding towards you. "Don't make this complicated", you hiss through clenched teeth, putting a dagger in the strap around your thighs. "I'm trying to keep you safe", there's that same pleading tone in his voice, but you no longer buy it. Not after tonight. Not after his whole body changed when he saw Elain.
"I was perfectly safe before you came around", you bite back. And you know, the words sting. Taking Azriel by surprise, almost. But you don't know what he expected. For you to bounce back? To not mind. "Take your brothers, go to the upper camp, and find the kids", you say bluntly. You know you are in no position to order him around, but you don't care anymore. Azriel opens his mouth as if to say something before closing it back up. You shake your head at him. And he's left to watch you rush towards the sanctuary soldiers, shouting commands before your hands disappear into a glowing light and everything grows static for a moment. As if your powers had managed to slow down time, draw elements from the air around everyone.
Azriel can't shake the sick feeling as he winnows alongside his brothers. He caught the disapproving look on Rhys's face, but the male said nothing. Deep down, Azriel knows that's not the thing that's making him uncomfortable. He didn't say anything to the kids. He tried to look for them in the sea of people but to no avail. He only found you because a soldier directed him. It's as if you didn't want to be seen by him. His head was a mess; it was not how he imagined the night to go. And Elain and Lucien... It took him by surprise, but he was happy for them. Elain reeked of the autumn male, and Lucien swaggering in all disheveled was a true cherry on top. But they were meant to be together.
"Front door", Rhys murmured through the mind bond, and Azriel only nodded before kicking the door open. The three males inched inside. The letter looked sketchy if Azriel was being honest. A sacrifice. The camp leader made a sacrifice to make a point. Show Rhys that he had no powers up in the mountains. With kids held in the upper cabin before the slaughter. And he could hear the cries, but no matter where they looked, there wasn't a single body in the house.
"What the fuck is this?", Cassian cursed as he yanked yet another door open, only to be met with the same nothingness. "Basement?", Rhys asked, his eyes scanning the floorboards. But they all knew there was no way; the sound was coming from the side. And then Azriel felt it. As if someone reached into his chest, yanked his heart out, and ripped it to pieces right in front of him. Shier panic washed over him. "Y/N," he breathed, stepping towards the front door. "The sounds are illusions", he hissed through gritted teeth. "A trap", Rhys said in disbelief as the same worry coursed through his veins. "Y/n!", a roar slipped past Azriel's lips.
Something felt off, and you could feel it. There were two little people in this camp. No commotion. You couldn't even feel the heartbeats. So what were you slowing down? You looked around, trying to catch the sigh of a single soldier. Your head up to reach for the daggers and do your scope, but there was no one here. A shiver ran down your back. And then the birds fled from the mountains. Rumbling as the snow fell from the top. Whatever caused that to happen...
But you don't get to finish the thought. You heard it before you saw it. You felt it before you could even register what was happening. A painful sob slipped past your lips as an arrow pierced your left wrist. You staggered back. Warm blood trickling down your palm instantly. No, there was no way. You barely lifted your head as another arrow hit your right palm. You let out a cry. Your vision growing hazy. Fear bubbled deep within you. You tried to summon through the pain, but the more you moved your hands, the more blood you were losing.
And then you saw a group of males, all with iron armor. "Fuck", you cursed under your breath, trying to get up and move away. But the arrows must have been dipped in venom. You stumbled, making the males laugh as they slowly inched closer towards you. "Azriel", you muttered quietly. "Azriel, please", your eyes slowly started burning with tears.
"Well, well, well...", one of the males grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the muddy ground towards them. "Two for two, it's my lucky day, boys", the other pulled at your hands, breaking off the tips of the arrows, causing you to scream out in agony. "Please", you pleaded once more.
I'm almost there. Hold on, love. Hold on for me. Azriel's voice filled your head, and you couldn't help but let out a choked-out sob at that. "Why don't we end it once and for all? Pay your daddy an omega", one of the males pulled you up by the hair right as the other threw him a dagger.
"Any last words, princess?", his voice was thick in your ear. But you don't finish. You don't make another move. Reaching deep within yourself, you wrap your hands around the glowing golden thread, caressing it softly one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry". They erupt with laughter; but they don't need to know that those words aren't for them. And then you close your eyes right as the cold blade touches your throat.
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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar x reader#azriel acotar imagine#azriel acotar#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster x reader#azriel spymaster#acotar imagine#acotar x reader
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Prompt idea: 🐉🤫
Hybrid Behavior Doctor JK v. Husky female. Husky female has behavior problems as she was abused for years and then dumped off by her owner. She doesn't like being touched and wants to be left alone. JK is a behavior specialist for hybrids so he is tasked with taking her home and trying to rehab her for adoption. He has his hands full. She destroys his furniture, scratches his door frames, doesn't clean up after herself, and leaves junk food wrappers and bags all over his house because she doesn't want to eat proper food. But he knows that what she's looking for is attention and she's acting badly to get it. So when he ignores her, it bugs her and she seeks him out. Eventually she becomes used to him, and she lets him touch her a few times. Feelings slowly grow between them. When it's time for her to be put up for adoption, he doesn't want her to leave him and he asks if she wants to stay. She agrees and he asks her on a date.
I originally pictured smut for the ending, but now that I've reached the end of my description, it kind of doesn't need it. I'll leave it up to you and how the story writes itself. If it goes in a more flirty, sexy manner, you can put the smut in at the end. If it goes more friendly to new love where it's way too early for them to have sex, then you can leave the smut out.
(hybrid+smut) part of the prompt game pairing: hybrid behaviour doctor!Jungkook x husky hybrid!female reader genre: hybrid!AU, S2L, fluff warnings: bratty reader, understanding JK, allusion to abuse, fluff word count: 1.308
a/n: I went with the 'more friendly to new love' theme, hope that's alright 💕
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Jungkook’s a professional, a hybrid behaviour specialist to be exact, so why does he get frustrated?
He’s spent years working with hybrids of all kinds, from jittery squirrels to brooding panthers, and he’s always been able to handle them. He prides himself on his calm, patient approach.
But you?
You’re on a whole different level.
From the moment he brought you into his home, it’s been absolute chaos. You’re a husky hybrid, all sharp fangs and attitude, with a permanent scowl etched onto your face. You don’t trust him, don’t trust anyone, really, and that’s understandable, considering your background.
Your last owner didn’t just neglect you; they left you broken. Abused, abandoned, and dumped off like you were nothing. It makes Jungkook’s blood boil every time he thinks about it. He knows it’s going to take time to get through to you, but he’s never met anyone so determined to make that process as difficult as possible.
You refuse to let him touch you. You destroy his sofa cushions like it’s a personal mission. You’ve scratched deep gouges into his doorframes, chewed on the corner of his coffee table, and left wrappers and empty crisp packets scattered across every available surface.
“Messy,” he mutters to himself, picking up a half-crushed bag of crisps from under the sofa.
You’re perched in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and tail swishing in irritation as you watch him. “Maybe if your food wasn’t so boring, I wouldn’t have to eat crisps for dinner.”
“My food isn’t boring,” he counters, tossing the bag into the bin. “It’s healthy.”
“Healthy’s boring,” you shoot back, smirking like you’ve just won some kind of argument.
He sighs. He knows this is part of the act. You’re defiant because it gives you control, you make a mess because you want to provoke him. He’s seen it before in other hybrids who’ve been mistreated, it’s your way of testing him, of seeing if he’ll snap.
But he won’t, ever.
“Suit yourself,” he mutters, brushing past you to grab his laptop off the counter. He makes a note about your eating habits, not that they’re habits, really. More like disasters waiting to happen at this point.
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not going to tell me off?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re looking for attention,” he says casually, not even glancing up.
Your ears twitch, and he knows he’s hit a nerve. “I’m not,” you grumble.
“Sure you’re not,” he replies, biting back a smile. He knows ignoring you drives you mad, but it’s all part of the plan. If he reacts to your antics, it’ll only reinforce them. If he doesn’t… well, eventually, you’ll come to him on your own.
It’s already starting to work.
You storm off in a huff, probably to destroy something else, but Jungkook doesn’t follow. He knows you’ll be back.
And you are.
Later that evening, you poke your head into his office, pretending you’re just passing by. Your ears are pinned back slightly, a telltale sign that you’re unsure, and Jungkook hides a smirk behind his laptop.
“Need something?” he asks, keeping his tone as natural as possible.
You shrug, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you working on?”
“Notes,” he states simply.
You frown, clearly expecting more of a reaction. “Notes about me?”
“Maybe.”
“Am I doing that badly?”
He glances up at you then. “You’re not doing badly,” he admits, and he means every word. “You’re just… figuring things out.”
You huff again, but you don’t leave. Instead, you wander further into the room, pretending to examine the books on his shelf. Jungkook knows better than to push you, so he lets you roam in silence.
After a while, you plop down on the floor right beside him, your tail curling around your legs. “I don’t like it here,” you mutter.
He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“It’s too quiet,” you pick at a loose threat on the carpet. “And you’re boring.”
Jungkook bites back a laugh. “Boring, am I?”
“Yeah.” You glance up at him, your eyes unusually serious. “But… I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”
It’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given him, and Jungkook feels a small beam of hope. Maybe he’s starting to get through to you.
🐕
The weeks pass, and slowly, things begin to change.
You still have your moments, like when you chewed through one of his shoelaces because he refused to let you eat biscuits for breakfast, but they’re less frequent. You’ve stopped trashing the place quite so often, and sometimes, you even sit with him on the sofa without scowling the whole time.
You let him brush your tail once, and though you complained the entire time, Jungkook could tell you didn’t truly hate it.
And then there are the smaller moments that mean so much more. The way you hover in the kitchen while he cooks, pretending you’re not interested in what he’s making. The way you roam in his office, curling up on the floor like you just want to be near someone. The way you’ve started calling him by his name instead of “Doctor Boring”.
It’s these moments that make Jungkook realise something’s finally shifted, not just in you, but in him, too.
Because, he doesn’t want you to leave.
It hits him square in the face one evening as he’s watching you sprawl across the sofa, your legs dangling off the back and your ears twitching as you flick through the channels. The thought of you going to a new home, with someone else, feels incredibly wrong to him.
The day he’s supposed to start your adoption process, Jungkook can’t focus. You’re in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for God-knows-what, and he’s sitting at the table with his laptop, staring at the blank application form.
“You’re quiet,” you observe, glancing over your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lies, though it’s in vain.
You narrow your eyes at him, and he knows he’s been caught. You’re sharper than you let on, and it’s one of the things he’s come to admire about you.
“Spit it out.”
He takes a deep breath, deciding to just go for it. “I was supposed to start your adoption paperwork today.”
Your ears perk up slightly, but you don’t say anything.
“And I realised…” He hesitates, his heart pounding out of his mouth. “I don’t want you to go.”
Your cock your brows at that, nearly touching your hairline, and for a moment, you just stare at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…” He stands up, crossing the room until he’s standing in front of you. “I want you to stay. Here. With me.”
You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”
“Completely, but only if you want to.”
There’s a long pause, and then, to his relief, you smile. It’s small and shy, but it’s unmistakable.
“I want to,” you nod softly.
Jungkook’s chest feels like it’s going to burst. “Good. Because I was really hoping you’d say that.”
You look away, but there’s a warmth in your eyes he’s never seen before.
“So, what now?” you ask with big eyes, turning and tilting your head.
“Now…” He hesitates, suddenly feeling like a nervous teenager. “Now I ask you on a date.”
“A date?” You giggle.
“Yeah,I mean, if we’re going to live together, we might as well see if we can survive a dinner out.”
You pretend to think about it, your tail swishing behind you. “Alright. But only if I get to pick the restaurant.”
“Deal.”
Before he can second-guess himself, Jungkook leans down and presses a soft, tentative kiss to your forehead. It’s brief, but the way you look up at him afterwards, ears twitching and cheeks flushed, tells him everything he needs to know.
You’re home.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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What he doesn’t know
Sam Winchester x witch!reader
Summary: You’re hiding two dangerous secrets from Sam. Little did you know, he’s just uncovered one, but it’s not the one you think.
Warnings: none?
The night was heavy, the air thick with tension. You sat at the edge of the squeaky motel bed, fingers nervously twisting an emerald green ring on your hand. It was a gift from your mother and in the lowest moments of your life, or just whenever you felt nervous, you fidgeted with it. And now, now was the most nervous you’ve ever been. It had been weeks — hell, months now, months of this dance with Sam Winchester.
You met him and his older brother while they tried to take down a vengeful spirit in the library you were working at the time. Once they found out you were more than aware of the supernatural — what’s more, a hunter of evil yourself — they decided to invite you to join them on occasional hunts. What they didn’t know was that you weren’t just a regular hunter, but something else…something they and you should be hunting.
It was over a week ago when Sam called you for help on a certain ghoul hunt. When you arrived at the motel you agreed to meeting at, you were surprised to see the classic Impala of the Winchesters’ nowhere in sight. It was unusual. You had went on numerous hunting trips with the boys; the Impala, Dean’s Baby was always a pivotal part of the journey. When you knocked on the door of the room Sam said he’d rented, you were surprised to see Sam, and Sam only, in the room. Turns out Dean ditched this one.
Doing a hunt with Sam was hard. The stolen glances, the lingering accidental touches. It was driving you insane. Not knowing what he thought, not knowing how long your secret could stay hidden. You weren’t just another hunter passing through his life. You were a witch. A born-hunter. But life played the cruelest joke on you possible. It was a secret you’d kept buried since the moment you met him. It was a dangerous game, falling for someone who, by all rights, would probably see you as the enemy if he ever found out. But you couldn’t help it. Sam was different; kind, strong, thoughtful in a way that made your chest tighten every time he was near.
Tonight, though, something felt off. The hunt was over and you two decided to stay just one more night to take a well-deserved rest. He had been watching you all day, his brow furrowed like he was trying to piece something together. Every time you caught his eye, your stomach twisted with dread. What if he knew?
You heard the door creak open, and Sam stepped back inside, his tall frame filling the room. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, eyes locked on you like he could see right through your skin.
“Sam?” you started, your voice unsteady. He seemed so tense and so confused, you wondered what Dean could’ve told him when he went out to inform him about the success of the hunt. “Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he crossed the room slowly, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor until he was standing right in front of you. His gaze was piercing and unreadable, which made your heart race in your chest. “You’ve been acting different lately.”
Your pulse quickened. You tried to keep your expression calm, but panic clawed at you. Had he found out? Had he somehow figured out the magic that simmered just beneath the surface?
“I—” You struggled for words, anything that might explain away the tension between you. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Sam’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, so close now you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His voice dropped to a low, husky murmur. “You’re hiding something from me.”
Your breath hitched as the panic bubbled up. This was it. He knew. Somehow he must have figured it out. And there was no going back. “Sam, I…”
But he didn’t let you finish. His hand came up, his fingers brushing gently against your red cheek and the touch made your heart skip a beat. His eyes were softer now, but still filled with that intensity that always left you breathless.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was something raw in his tone, something that made you ache.
You blinked, your mind racing a million miles per hour. Did he already know? Was he waiting for you to confess? You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the fear. “I… I didn’t know how.”
His eyes searched yours like he was trying to read your soul. “You didn’t have to be scared” he said softly, his thumb now tracing the line of your jaw.
Your chest tightened painfully. He was still touching you, still standing so close, and it made your head spin. His presence always had this effect on you. But why was he being so gentle? Why wasn’t he angry? “Sam, I—”
“I already know” he said, cutting you off again, his eyes locked on yours.
Your heart plummeted. He knew. How long had he known? Weeks? Months? And he still stood here, looking at you like—
Wait. He wasn’t looking at you with anger or betrayal. He was looking at you with something else entirely. Something… softer.
Your stomach flipped. “You know?”
Sam nodded, his hand still cupping your cheek, thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “Dean told me.”
You blinked, confusion clouding your thoughts. “Wait… what are we talking about?” you asked. You are certain you would remember if you had told Dean that you were a witch. But you kept this secret from everyone around you, especially the Winchesters.
Now it was Sam’s turn to look confused. “You’re in love with me, right?” he asked sheepishly, now contemplating whether Dean fucked him up or not.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Your mouth fell open slightly as the realization hit you. He didn’t know you were a witch. He thought you were hiding something else entirely.
“I— what?” You asked, your mind desperately trying to keep up. And then you remembered. It all came back in a blur. Sam, Dean and you were celebrating a successful hunt a couple of weeks ago at a rundown bar. You decided to clear the rum supply as a celebratory activity and in a blurry, dizzy moment of yours you managed to spill your feelings towards Sam to Dean. That bastard. He set up you two to come and do this hunt alone. It all was his genius idea.
Sam pulled back slightly, a cautious, almost embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, I wasn’t sure at first… but you’ve been acting so different. And Dean told me that you— I thought maybe you were avoiding me because of… you know, how you feel.” he stammered, mentally contemplating how to murder Dean for making him look like a fool in front of you.
You stared at him, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He thought the secret you were hiding was your feelings for him. The irony of it almost made you laugh. But instead, you just stood there, frozen, unsure of what to say.
“I—Sam, it’s not…” You started, but your voice faltered under the weight of his hopeful gaze. There was hope in his eyes to which you couldn’t say no to.
He took a deep breath and he stepped closer again, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest gently, almost hesitantly on your waist. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way” he said softly, though you could hear the disappointment in his voice,“I just… I needed you to know that I—”
Your mind was spinning, torn between the truth you had been hiding and the one Sam thought he had discovered. You opened your mouth to tell him the truth — the other truth — but the words wouldn’t come. You weren’t ready.
You let out a shaky breath. “Sam…” you said and cut him off.
His eyes flickered with hope again, and this time, you didn’t stop yourself. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant. But the moment Sam responded, pulling you closer, it deepened, and all the tension, all the fear melted away. Momentarily, though.
When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his and both of you were breathing hard. You felt his hand tighten gently around your waist, keeping you close.
“You do feel the same” he murmured, a genuine smile almost audible in his voice as he spoke.
You nodded, closing your eyes, not ready to speak the whole truth just yet. For now, it didn’t matter. For now, the only truth that mattered was the one that made your heart grow fonder.
Thanks for reading. 🤍
Sorry for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language.
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#the winchesters#supernatural#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester imagine#jared padalecki#sam winchester x you#supernatural fanfiction#the winchester brothers#jared padalecki x reader#sam x reader#sam x you#sam x y/n
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Gorgeous
pairing: song mingi x reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: dom!reader, sub!mingi, mingi's called princess a lot, thigh riding, praise kink, degradation, kinda bratty mingi in the beginning, hair pulling, that's all i can think of
a/n: didn't know if i should post this or not but🤷, hopefully you enjoy
it's like a treat ig because i'm probably gonna be pretty inactive for the rest of the week😭(other than queued posts)
It was always hard to fathom how lucky you were.
Lucky to have many things you suppose; a roof over your head, food to eat, clothes to wear.
But most specifically to have him.
The amazing, beautiful man laying across your body on the bed, his torso laying horizontally across your own, creating a cross-like symbol.
Mingi held his phone close to his face, scrolling through something you couldn't quite make out from the position. His breathing steady, looking at utter peace as he lay completely unaware to the admirer he had.
The way the sun streaked across the side of his face, flowing in from the open drapes of your bedroom window like a spot-light just for him.
You could stay like this forever. Watching him, feeling his weight on you, letting the comfortable silence consume the room filled only with your heartbeat and his calm breaths.
Finally he seemed to sense your eyes glued on him, looking back up and meeting your gawking head on with a quiet kind of blush.
Phone forgotten, mind elsewhere.
“Hi.” He whispered, voice low.
“Princess,” You could feel him give a slight shiver at the sound of yours, husky from disuse, almost seductive with the way you let a hand gently brush though his hair and lower then to feel over his cheekbones and nose, paying special attention as your fingers grazed his lips.
He sighed into it, puckering his lips to leave a soft kiss on each of the pads of your fingers before your hand drifted upward again, petting and playing with his hair, him pushing his head into your touch, nearly purring with hopes of more.
God, you were so lucky to have him.
So lucky that you'd ever even met him.
So lucky that on that one day you’d been forced to take a shift at your former job, in a cafe, taking over for a 'sick' coworker.
Tired and cranky and upset with life, but there he was, something to bright up your day. And perhaps the rest of your life.
He came in panting.
Late for whatever he was supposed to be doing, hair a ruffled mess that only seemed to endear you more. A small, almost awkward smile, adorably sheepish across his face as he ordered his drink.
You were pretty sure his shirt was inside out but didn’t want to point it out because you didn’t want to embarrass him. It didn’t matter much though because his friend, a regular named Seonghwa you knew from writing his name on his drink almost every day, joined him a few minutes later, pointing out to him what you had failed to.
He turned even redder when his friend had told him, glancing over to you, hoping that you hadn’t noticed.
Only to see a catlike smile on your face that had him quickly heading to the bathroom to fix himself up.
He stood in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, cursing himself, becoming determined to not make any more a fool of himself than he'd already done.
But when he finally came out, heading back to his table, he failed to watch where he was walking, crashing right into you and spilling coffee all over your clothes and the floor.
He was absolutely mortified. Apologizing over and over, fretting as he tried to help clean up, only proving to get in your way more the poor thing.
Your coworkers came over to help, to mop up the mess and help try to save the fabric of your shirt but Mingi continued to insist until one of them almost scolded him, telling him to go back to his table.
For the rest of the time he spent there, working on his project with Seonghwa you could feel his eyes on you, looking away whenever you glanced back.
Mingi wasn’t a regular, it was his first time there and probably his last after making such a fool of himself in front of the fucking barista.
An extremely attractive barista.
A barista he couldn’t help but stumble over his words with, blush like a schoolboy.
And making you spill the coffee was the last straw....he could never show his face here ever again.
He looked down at his lap when you brought his coffee over, avoiding all eye contact until you were safely back behind your counter only for him to notice something was written on the side.
‘I can act like I can’t see you staring at me, or you can call me later, (insert phone number I’m too lazy to make up)’
After that Mingi became a regular.
And all because of that fucking annoying coworker that fake called in sick so she could skip and hang out with her boyfriend.
Well now you had a gorgeous man laying across you, subtly, maybe even unconsciously grinding up against you.
So maybe you could forgive her.
“Please,”
A single breathy word and you glance down, a moan escaping him, an octave higher than his voice normally is, wanton and full of pure need.
He ruts against the side of your leg, phone pushed over to the end of the bed as he moans.
Looking up at you with eyes that scream ‘fuck me’ in a universal language…but also something more.
He eyes you carefully, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly press together. You watch as he raises an eyebrow before it’s quickly gone, replaced by a pout.
“Don't you want me?” You swallow the lump in your throat, watching him slither up your body, coming up so close you can feel his breath across your face. His lips are only inches from yours, your noses almost touching.
His eyes flicker down before he's whining, body languidly moving until he's straddling your hips, tensing thighs pinning you in place and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.
“Jesus christ, fuck all.” You mutter, wondering when the day will come when he makes you finally lose it.
“How ‘bout you fuck me instead?” He rolls his hips against you once more, letting out an over-exaggerated moan like he’s your own personal show.
You groan.
Fuck the way he always seems to get his way.
Fuck your weak willpower.
Fuck him, as he wants.
Your book gets thrown unceremoniously onto the floor as he snatches it out of your hands.
“Well that wasn’t very nice.” You frown.
The bratty look on his face has you wanting to do everything he asks of you and more until he’s a crying little mess, ruined beyond even talking.
“Well it’s not very nice that you’re not fuck-“
Your hands are on him.
Groping and sinful in every way you know he loves best.
Your hands are everywhere and his uselessly clutch at the sheets in tight fists, drowning under your touch, gasping for air like a man being drowned.
“God, please!”
Looking up at you with the eyes of a devil pretending to be an angel.
A smile curls at your lips.
Then your hands are sliding up and under his shirt, cool fingers feeling over smooth skin. Over his abdomen and then up higher until he’s panting.
Running over the blank canvas of his throat, lightly teasing at the prospect of wrapping around it.
Touching, teasing, feeling anywhere you can find purchase, driving him absolutely, maddeningly insane.
One hand brushes over the curve of his ass. Right where it meets his thigh, letting him try to arch into it before squeezing and kneading, making him bury his face into the crook of his arm with muffled noises of pleasure.
You’re in his head, taking over every thought and every little thing. Making him forget anything and everything except for how good it feels. You feel.
He whines, thrusting becoming sloppier, needier.
“You desperate baby?”
He nods, biting his lip in a futile attempt to hold back a groan when you grip his hair, pulling his head up and out into the open.
“Don’t hide from me,” you pout, “wanna see your pretty face.”
A wave of arousal washes over you at how much of a mess he already is. Even more so as he lets himself be maneuvered-practically manhandled-by you.
Because that’s the thing, no matter how hard he’d try to be a brat, no matter the words speaking out of occurrence.
It only ever led to one thing happening.
This. Him. A pliant mouldable thing all laid out and ready-begging-for you to use him however you may like.
Pushing him up higher onto his knees, his body easily being led along by your gentle orders. “Sit on my thigh baby. C’mon, you’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”
He makes a sound in the back of his throat, “yes, yes, ‘m your good boy, only yours.” He continues to babble, nodding along as he moves from your hips to straddle your thigh instead.
“Yeah? Gonna such a good boy for me princess” Mingi whines, burying his face into your neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down the expanse of your throat. You laugh, perhaps at your own expense because in the next second he’s nipping lightly over the one place he knows will drive you insane, in hopes of eliciting a sound of your own.
He gets his way fairly quickly, your moans ringing loudly in his ears, making him all the more worked up.
It makes him so dizzy and hazy, he shakes his head, intent on savouring this. In imprinting this exact moment into his memory.
In remembering your soft gasp as he drags his tongue, hot and wet, over your throat, moaning all the while.
In remembering the way your nails dig into his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. Rough in context to the soft touch of the tips of your fingers sliding up and down the length of his spine, leaving goosebumps in your wake as he begins sucking a harsh hickey onto your neck that you know you’ll regret letting him leave tomorrow.
But that’ll be tomorrow and you can’t even begin to bring yourself to care about then when you could be right here. Right now.
“Fuck baby,” you breathe, dragging him back by his hair.
He lets out a protesting whine but you ignore it, lovingly looking into his watery eyes, his pace never ending, continuing to thrust into your thigh like a bitch in heat.
You let it slide for now.
Because he’s so cute as he pants, a flush crawling up his neck and over his cheeks.
So fucking adorable the way he covers his face with his hands, fingers slightly parted to see you, squeaking out, “don’t look at me like that.”
If he hadn’t been dry humping your thigh all the while you would’ve squealed and pulled him closer, cooing about how cute he was.
But that wasn’t the case,
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me or something,”
You smile teasingly, peeling his fingers away one by one.
You could simply devour him.
“Have I ever told you just how pretty you are, Song Mingi?” You whisper, fingers brushing over his cheekbones, voice soft as your eyes flicker down to his lips. Plush and slightly swollen and oh so kissable, spreading wide into a heartachingly dumb smile. Then you look up to his eyes, soft and shining with hearts dancing in his lust-blown pupils.
“Yes, all the time,” His words come out in a half pant and slurred as he presses himself closer, eyes lidded, “but you can always tell me again…I don’t mind.”
Your hands make contact with his hips, ceasing his movements all together. He whimpers but stops when you tut him, thumbs slipping just under the waistband of his boxers.
“Pretty,” you whisper.
A loose mewl crawls from his lips, trying to roll down against you. The praise going straight to his head-both of them.
He’s never outright admitted it, but you could always tell what the words did to him.
It was obvious with how his eyes lit up, breath hitching and body stiffening.
You noticed the very first time you’d called him that; pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, any and every synonym.
Fuck, he loved them all.
Loved to be called them, loved the words no matter if they were kind and sweet or envious and jealous or simply downright degrading.
In fact, he seemed to like the last one the most.
“Such a pretty little whore, aren’t you princess?” you pull his head up, contemplating before licking a long strip from his collarbone to jaw. "My pretty little slut."
You sound so possessive, so-so controlling and that paired with your hand in his hair-the other on his hip, squeezing the flesh of his ass while pushing him to move faster and faster, harder and harder and, and-
"Mine. Just for me, right? Such a pretty thing for only me to use, right princess?" You mutter against the skin of his throat.
His heart stutters and you can feel it, almost hear it until it’s covered by a loud keen, arching his back and pawing at your shoulders.
Shuddering and shivering and clutching and whispering "yes, yes, yes, yours, yours, yes yours." Over and over like a mantra as you pepper kisses all over.
He lets out a choked gasp, followed by a breathy little whine, going completely tense around you. Muscles pulled so taught his body trembles in place, his nails digging so hard into your shoulder you can't help but let out a hiss, wondering if he drew blood.
And then just like that he moans out a sigh.
You pull away to look up at him, “Did you just cum?”
His body falls slack, slumping against you with a weight that nearly makes you fall back against the headboard.
He buries his head into the crook of your neck and nods, words failing him, continuing to shiver slightly with the intensity of his orgasm.
He nuzzles closer, whining when even then it’s not close enough, mumbling something tiredly, the words unintelligible.
"Pardon baby, what'd you say?"
Mingi, your angel, your devil, your fucking little brat. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his lips up by your ear, teeth teasing the shell, breath sending shivers down your spine and warming your body.
“Can you fuck me now?”
You nearly choke, “what?”
He rolls off, laying on the bed right next to you, slipping off his now dirtied pants and boxers, before falling back and opening his legs wide. “Fuck me, please?”
You almost moan out loud.
“Aren't you tired princess?" He shakes his head no. You sigh. "Such a whore.”
He smiles sweetly, looking every ounce of ruined he did only seconds ago with mussed up hair and hickeys adorning his neck, all hard and flushed and begging to be ruined all over again.
Still managing to let that mischievous glint enter his watery eyes and get a smartass quip ready on his lips.
“Only a whore for you.”
---
a/n: i hope this is okay, this is my first fic for ateez so cut me some slack if it isn't the best😭, i'd love your thoughts and feedback to know what you all thought
and lol, just realized that this is my 500th post
my taglist is open here; @honeymooncrz, @d7dream, @lemonhongjoong
(unsure if you two want to be tagged for ateez or txt stuff so just lmk if you don't) @hobihearteu, @imsolovelylovely
#mingi x reader#mingi smut#sub mingi#sub ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#sub!ateez#sub!mingi#dom!reader#dom reader#sub kpop#sub!kpop
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Taaarren ♥3♥ How bout Nanami + reading a book together? 🥺
Hi hi Venus!! 💜💜💜 sure I'd love to write that 🥰
♝: Reading a book together
Pairing: Nanami Kento x GN!reader
Nanami was well aware of the effect of his voice on others. His colleague, Gojo, claimed his voice was boring and stiff, too "corporate businessman" for his tastes. His students claimed he was too strict sounding, intimidating and a little cold, although they knew better just how caring he truly was of them.
However, and more importantly, to you, his voice was a source of comfort, strength, and oftentimes wisdom. It was an accident the first time you admitted this out loud to him, but ever since, you made sure to reassure him that you really did enjoy listening to him talk. Hearing his familiar cadence always helped to calm you down, make you feel whole and stable, having helped you before in moments of panic and worry.
Tonight, it was simply difficulty sleeping. It wasn't anything unusual, occurring typically when things have been busy and your mind has been working nonstop to solve problem after problem. You and your students had dealt with a particularly nasty curse in a factory that day, the product of unhappy workers in poor conditions for too long, and although the fight had ended on a positive note, your brain didn't seem to get the memo.
Nanami had already fallen asleep beside you, so you'd done your best not to toss and turn. But sleep simply wouldn't come. Eventually you slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and made your way towards your kitchen, hoping a warm drink would make you sleepy.
As you stood at the stove warming some milk and honey, you heard shuffling footsteps come down the hallway from behind. A pair of warm arms wound around your waist, and you felt a soft kiss get pressed to your shoulder.
"Having trouble sleeping?" Nanami asked, voice husky from just waking up.
You leaned back against him, enjoying his warmth.
"Yeah, just the usual," you replied, turning to reassure him with a smile. "I'm going to drink some milk and see if that helps. You can go back to bed."
Nanami looked down at the saucepan then back at you.
"Does drinking milk normally help?"
"Not really, but it's all we have, so I thought I'd give it a try," you said, shrugging.
Nanami seemed to think for a moment, letting you go so you could poor the milk into a mug, before speaking up.
"I have an idea."
Ten minutes later, you were both snuggled up on the couch together, nestled under a blanket as you sipped at your mug. Nanami held up a book to you, showing you the cover to see it was a collection of poems. You gave him a confused look, unsure what it meant.
"Sometimes reading makes people tired, so I thought I'd read you some poems," he explained, opening the book to a page already marked with a flag. The creases in the cover and bind told you this was a well-read book and you couldn't help but wonder just how often he read these poems.
"I'm not a little kid, Kento," you said, pouting.
He only smiled at that. "I didn't say you were. But you said you like my voice because it's calming for you, right?"
Although you'd told him so before, you couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed still, simply nodding in response.
"Then let's give it a try. At worse, it doesn't do anything and we'll have just spent our time reading some nice poetry. Okay?"
"... Alright."
"This one is called 'On the Lake'," he said, clearing his throat before continuing. "'When the crisp moon ventures out, // we'll climb into the little boat. // The waves will lap in gentle sets, // with breezes also joining us.'" ...
...
After a little, Nanami happened to glance over at you, wanting to gauge your interest in the poems. However, he was met by your peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly open as your breaths were even and shallow. He couldn't help but smile, glad you see you at ease now. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, before putting aside his book and settling in beneath the blanket with you, slipping into sweet dreams at your side.
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Lipstick Stains - Pt. 6
previous chapter | next chapter | series page
Larissa Weems x fem!reader
summary: morning sex :)
words: ~2.9k | ao3 link in title
chapter-specific warnings: nsfw (smut) - thigh riding, vaginal fingering
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Larissa wanted to sleep, too, she really did - but the evening she’d just shared with you was playing over and over in her mind, her thoughts and emotions running rampant. She was far too wired to sleep just yet, so she snuggled into your warmth, listening to the thump, thump, thump of your heart and playing with the hem of your shirt - gently, so as to not wake you.
It was crazy, really, how quickly she seemed to be falling for you. Sweet, loving, patient you. Her proverbial buoy when she felt the waves begin to drag her under. She normally hated feeling her control slipping - but somehow, she felt she could entrust you with it.
Larissa could have scoffed at herself - it was almost silly, really. Some young woman, some college student she’d fucked in a moment of weakness, when she’d just wanted to feel normal and desirable. Some young woman who seemed to be the first person in years capable of meeting her where she was. Who wasn’t intimidated by her, who wasn’t trying to use her for personal or financial gain, who didn’t want her to be someone else. Someone who made her laugh and made her belly fill with warmth, someone who made her feel like herself - who made her like herself.
So, really, it wasn’t Larissa’s fault that she lay awake for ages, using your slow, deep breaths as a tether to the physical world as she attempted to calm her mind. Finally, mercifully, she felt her eyes begin to droop in exhaustion, and she sighed as she snuggled in closer.
~~~
Larissa was a light sleeper - she woke the second you’d stirred next to her. She realized the two of you had become quite entangled during the night, with your leg slotted between hers and your arm draped over her waist. Your body was warm as it pressed into hers and she allowed herself to revel in the moment, admiring the blissful expression on your face as you slowly woke.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she murmured, brushing your messy hair out of your face and gently caressing your cheek as she did so. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked so cute, so disoriented, that Larissa’s heartbeat stuttered momentarily in her chest. Your eyes met hers and then you smiled widely - Larissa couldn’t help but smile back.
“Morning, Riss. Did you sleep okay?” Your voice was lower and raspier than usual, and Larissa felt a heat spreading through her body.
She hummed. “Yes, darling, did you?” It wasn’t a total lie - once she’d fallen asleep, she really had slept peacefully.
“I always sleep well next to you,” you teased. The husky quality to your voice was affecting Larissa more than she would ever let on - she bit her lip and looked away, her cheeks slowly turning pink.
Larissa felt your lips on her cheek, felt your arm tighten around her waist, and she smiled, turning her head to meet your lips with her own.
The kiss started off slow and sweet, but quickly turned passionate and desperate. Larissa felt your tongue glide over her lower lip as your leg slowly shifted up, until your thigh pressed against her clothed center. She couldn’t help the mewl that escaped her lips, bucking her hips slightly to find some temporary relief for the ache that was building between her legs.
“I think I made you a promise last night?” you husked, Larissa’s stomach filling with warmth as you nipped at her lip. Her eyes darkened and she met your gaze to find her own hunger and lust mirrored back at her.
Larissa flipped the two of you over so that she was hovering above you. She slipped her fingers underneath your shirt, rucking it up over your chest. A trail of goosebumps had erupted on your skin at the sudden chill, your nipples visibly hardening - Larissa felt her mouth go dry at the sight.
She must have hesitated a second too long because suddenly you were pulling your shirt over your head, dropping it next to you and starting to unbutton Larissa’s sleep shirt. She helped you with the last few buttons and allowed you to slide it off her shoulders.
“Fuck, you look gorgeous,” you husked with a groan as you pulled Larissa closer, latching onto her nipple and sucking as your hand fondled her other breast.
Your mouth felt so good on her nipple, Larissa found herself letting out a whine and arching her back when you briefly let go. She looked down at you to see you smirking - fuck, you looked hot when you did that - your eyes almost black with desire.
You moved to her other nipple then and Larissa felt her panties growing damper with each flick of your tongue.
“If you keep doing that I’m not going to last long,” she breathed out, chuckling when you groaned and let go of her breast to focus your efforts on tugging at the waistband of her pants. She rolled off of you briefly to pull them down her legs, taking her ruined underwear with them.
There was a flurry of movement next to her and when she turned her attention back to you, she was amused to see you’d also rid yourself of your shorts and underwear. The amusement was quickly replaced with burning lust when she saw how wet you were for her, and she was on top of you again within seconds.
She felt your hand tug on her thigh, pulling it over your leg so that she was straddling yours, and she lowered her cunt onto your leg. Your moans were simultaneous - hers due to the friction against her sensitive clit, yours due to Larissa’s slick smearing against your bare skin. You shifted your leg and it rubbed against her clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her body.
“Is it okay for you like this?” you asked, biting your lip.
“Yes, darling,” Larissa breathed out, slowly rubbing her heat back and forth over your thigh. “It’s more than okay.”
Larissa rocked her hips a few times, finding a steady rhythm before trailing her fingertips teasingly along your lower belly, nails scratching lightly.
“Shit, Rissa,” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering shut. You looked so blissful - it was a beautiful sight for Larissa. But she really wanted you to open your eyes - to see the desire within them, to know you could see her come undone.
“Be a good girl and open your eyes for me,” Larissa husked, teasingly but with an air of authority. She waited until your eyes were open again and your gaze had locked with hers before continuing the path of her fingertips down your stomach, over your mound, towards your pussy. You let out a soft, breathy noise of pleasure as her fingertips grazed your folds, teasing you. Your hips bucked up, causing your thigh to bump hard into Larissa’s clit - she couldn’t help the loud moan that tore from her throat.
Gathering your juices on her fingers, she finally applied the pressure you’d been seeking and began massaging your clit, reveling in the noises you were making.
“C-can you…” You looked up at her pleadingly and she chuckled.
“Can I what?” she teased, trying to keep her voice level despite the heat building in her center.
“Go i-inside?”
Larissa’s breath hitched slightly in her chest at your request, at the slight blush that colored your cheeks. She slid her fingers lower, applying a steady pressure to your clit with her thumb as she slid first one, then a second finger into your entrance. Your walls fluttered around her fingers, greedily drawing them in.
She pumped her fingers rhythmically in and out of you, matching the pace of her own hips as she rutted against your thigh. She felt your thigh flex under her cunt and stuttered briefly in her movements, a filthy groan drawn from her chest at the slight change in friction.
“Mmmh.” Her chest was heaving, her breathing becoming more and more labored. “Do that again.” You did as was asked of you and she whimpered, grinding down onto your thigh as hard as she could.
The sounds that her fingers made as they thrust into you at a brutal pace only served to turn Larissa on further - she felt almost drunk with desire as she worked feverishly to bring the both of you to the edge.
You came first - Larissa felt your walls clench around her fingers, felt your arousal gush out of you as you let out a soft moan of pleasure, your abdomen visibly tightening.
“Look at me,” she purred as your eyes began to shut - you kept them open, watching Larissa fuck you through your orgasm as she rode your thigh. With a few more thrusts of her hips, Larissa barreled over the edge as well, her fingers slipping out of you as she steaded herself against your hips.
“Come here,” you breathed, opening your arms to Larissa. Her eyes roamed over your body, taking in your heaving chest, your flushed cheeks, your mussed hair, and she grinned giddily as she lowered herself into your arms.
Your lips connected with hers in a heated kiss - Larissa delighted in the little whine you let out as she licked into your mouth. Everything about you was intoxicating to Larissa - she knew, as your arms tightened around her, that she was falling in love with you, and she was helpless to stop it.
“Maybe we could get cleaned up and I could make us breakfast?” Your tone was so hopeful - Larissa felt her heart swell, and she reached up to cup your cheek and meet your gaze.
“You stay here, I’ll get something to clean you up,” she replied with a smile.
Larissa stood and made her way to the door. A robe hung off the back of it - on impulse, she slipped into the robe - it was a bit short on her, but it smelled like you, and she hummed quietly.
“Stunning,” she heard you murmur. A blush crept up her cheeks and she shot you a beaming smile.
“Be right back.” Larissa opened your bedroom door - it creaked slightly - and padded out into the hallway, stilling in her movements when she heard the bang of a cupboard in the kitchen. You’d said your roommates were out of town… Before she could make her retreat, a young woman popped around the corner from the direction of the kitchen.
“Oh, hey, Larissa,” she said with a smirk, and Larissa felt her cheeks grow warm at the knowing expression on her face.
“Hello,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she tugged the robe closer around her. She vaguely recognized the girl as one of the friends you’d been at the Weathervane with on Outreach Day.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you, I-”
“Cass? I thought you were staying at Anna’s?” your voice sounded from behind Larissa, and she felt herself relax a little in your presence.
The girl - Cass - shrugged. “I did, but her family’s coming into town today so I left early.”
You stepped forward, partially blocking Larissa from your roommate’s view - Larissa found the gesture very sweet - she wanted to kiss you senseless right then and there, but instead she kept a white-knuckled grip on the front of the robe, curiously watching the interaction between you and your roommate.
“A warning would’ve been nice.” Larissa couldn’t see your face, but you sounded annoyed.
“I didn’t think you’d come back here,” Cass said with a laugh. “You’ve never brought a girl home before.”
A girl. Larissa felt like a teenager who’d been caught in the act by her secret girlfriend’s parents or something - as embarrassing as it was, she couldn’t help the soft snort that escaped her at Cass’ blunt tone.
You reached behind yourself and Larissa felt your hand on her thigh. “Riss, you can go back to my room if you want,” you murmured, turning your head to meet her gaze - your eyes were filled with unspoken apologies. Larissa nodded her assent, then tilted her head at Cass, who grinned smugly at the both of you.
As Larissa closed the door to your bedroom behind her, she could hear you ask “how much did you hear?”, and she shook her head in amusement. Her cheeks were warm and red and although she was a bit embarrassed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration at the situation - she felt young and carefree in a way she hadn’t in years.
Larissa stood in your room, her eyes wandering the space, trying not to listen to the muffled conversation that was unfolding in the kitchen, lest she overthink the entire situation. Her eyes fell to your desk and she took a step towards it, taking it in.
Your desk was littered with textbooks and scraps of paper covered in doodles. There was a half-empty can of Red Bull off to the side, next to a framed picture of you and another girl in high school graduation robes, hugging each other fiercely. Your smile was bright and giddy - it made Larissa smile in turn, and she quickly pushed away the thought of how recent your high school graduation was compared to her own.
Her eyes were drawn to the other side of the desk, where a plain black sketchbook lay. She recognized it from the day she’d first met you, at the museum. Curiosity got the better of her and she gently lifted it, flipping through the pages. Your sketches were truly beautiful, but she would surely have more opportunities to ask you to show her your art - what she was really looking for was the sketch of herself from the day she met you, wondering if you’d ever gotten around to finishing it.
The door creaked open behind her and Larissa’s heart skipped a beat as she jumped, snapping the little book shut and dropping it onto the desk before whirling around.
“Sorry if I startled you.” You giggled, kicking the door closed behind you since your hands were full - each one holding a steaming mug of coffee.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been looking through your things, I just-” Larissa was certain her cheeks were flaming red, and she was grateful when you interrupted her with a teasing grin.
“You can look, it’s okay - I’m not hiding anything. Just homework that I’m behind on.” You crossed the room and set the mugs down on your desk, before wrapping your arms around Larissa’s waist and looking up at her through your lashes.
“I’m sorry about Cassandra. She really did say she wouldn’t be here, and I didn’t think she’d get home until later in the day.” You bit your lip as worry filled your eyes, and Larissa felt herself slowly relaxing into your embrace.
“It’s alright.” She smiled, cupping your cheek. “You know, back in school I always used to walk in on my roommate and her boyfriend - I suppose this is karma.”
Your eyes were still filled with worry and doubt, so Larissa tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips - then to your cheek, then to your earlobe.
“We’ll just have to be quiet next time,” she whispered teasingly - she felt you shiver as her breath washed over your neck, and when she pulled back she was pleased to see a shy smile plastered on your face.
“I thought you might want coffee - unless you just want to leave or something. I would understand that.”
“How could I say no to drinking coffee with my favorite girl,” Larissa purred. She let out a grateful hum as you handed her one of the mugs and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, motioning for you to join her and parting her legs so you could stand between them.
You’d thrown on the Nevermore shirt again, as well as a pair of underwear, and Larissa placed her free hand on the small of your back to pull you close. Thoughts of heading back to Nevermore were, for once, far from her mind as she reveled in the time spent with you.
“Darling?”
“Riss?”
Larissa blushed at the nickname - you’d said it before, but she would never tire of hearing it, not from you.
“What do you say I take you shopping today? My treat?”
Your eyes widened slightly. “Are you sure? Is this about the coat thing? I promise I-”
Larissa laughed, quickly interrupting your rambling. “It’s not about the coat thing. But if you want a new coat all you have to do is ask, you know,” she purred. “I want to spend my day with you, and I want to treat you a little. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, if you don’t want that.”
Truth be told, Larissa wanted to watch you try on clothes, imagining how your eyes would light up if you saw something you liked. But she also understood that not everyone had the same attitude towards money and fashion that she did - the last thing she wanted was for you to feel guilty or indebted to her.
Your eyes searched Larissa’s face for a few moments. Apparently satisfied with whatever you found there, you nodded, a smile slowly growing on your face.
x
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#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems#larissa x reader#principal weems#principal weems x reader#lipstick stains#lipstick stains series
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03:46 am
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you hate thinking too much, you hate thinking about your future exams, you hate thinking at all.
tears were blurring your sight as you tried to calm down, feeling the anxiety fill you up. you were crying for long minutes, your hand laying on your mouth as you tried to not wake mark up with your own insecurities.
mark had a arm wrapped around you, holding you tight in his embrace as a try to make you feel comfortable and protected. you thought on waking mark up, but you definitely wouldn’t be happy knowing you woke him up just to burst about your emotions with him.
you bring your hand to his, grabbing it tightly in a way you could feel one percent of peace invade your body after long minutes of panic.
you hear something moving behind you, “no, no, no! please don’t!” you think, realizing that you woke mark up, the last thing you want to do this night.
“babe?” he asks, his voice sounding husky. you don’t answer. “y/n?” he asks again.
“yes?” you finally answer.
“what’s wrong, why are you awake this late?” he rubs circles on your back, trying to comfort you and make you feel better, no matter what you were feeling.
“it’s nothing, go back to sleep.” you say, turning your body to face his as you smile and close your eyes.
the room was dark, mark couldn’t see you were crying, making you relieved with the possibility of him not worrying too much about your condition.
but one thing about mark is: he can always sense what you need by just hearing your tone.
“you’re overthinking.” he affirms, making you open your eyes. “you don’t need that, y/n.” he starts.
“you know, i understand you perfectly, i know it’s hard to not think about something you’re genuinely anxious to, but this is hurting you.” he continues. “you don’t need to doubt yourself, you constantly do that and that will not help you on getting what you want.” mark places his hand in your waist, caressing it.
“you studied hard for it, right?” you nod. “then don’t think too much. i’m pretty sure you will make it, you always make it. you are crazily smart, y/n, don’t you remember everything you once told me? everything you once explained me?” he giggles. “damn, i was impressed with the way you can play with the subjects you know, the way you can play with the words that comes out from your mouth without getting it wrong.” you start to cry more and more, feeling touched by mark’s words.
“you’re brilliant. i want you to know that. i wanted you to see yourself like i do, i wanted you to see how richly smart you are. you’re the most amazing person i’ve ever seen and met in my life, the most sensible and caring person i’ve ever met.” his hands goes up to your hair, caressing it slowly.
“you’re amazing just the way you are. everything you do is amazing, everything you say is brilliant, your whole existence is a blessing, y/n.” you can’t say anything, just keep looking at mark as he distractedly says all that.
“i love you. you’ll always be the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, and, mainly, the smartest person standing in the top of my heart. you’re fucking amazing, y/n.” he leaves a sweet peck in your cheek.
“everything will be okay, you will be okay.” it’s the last thing he says before shutting his eyes close and going back to the dreamland.
you can’t stop the tears rolling down in your face. mark knew the exact right words to use when you were feeling down.
you can’t be more grateful to have a boyfriend like mark lee, so caring, lovely and positive like he is.
you love mark lee, and you will do it for eternity.
until death do you apart.
#— ✦ :: on your lin !! < 3#mark fluff#mark angst#mark x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 x reader#lulu ★ing neo!
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𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
Captain Rex x Reader Every waking moment you had to yourself, you spent on trying to remember. To remember his touch. His voice, his warmth. His face and his eyes. But how could you when after so many years it's become nothing but a blur? And each time you're close, each time your mind drags back pieces of the puzzle together, you're interrupted. Word Count: 1,462 Warnings: Angst A/N: This idea came to me whilst listening to Once Upon A Dream from Sleeping Beauty and I couldn't help myself but vomit words onto screen, I hope whoever reads this enjoys this because I loved the idea TT
The city lights from below twinkled and burned brightly like the stars in the dark sky above. A miniscule smile rested atop your lips, a familiar gleam sparkling in your irises.
The cold autumn breeze flew past you, ruffling your unruly hair into an even more so, larger mess.
A blue, old scarf a size too big hugged and entangled your shoulders, floating up and down with the cold. Your fingers twiddled with the loose threads, feeling the coarse material between the pads of your fingers. It was a gift from him. The man from your dreams.
You used to love him. You used to miss him. You used to wait for him.
You used to walk with him,
Once upon a dream.
His hands used to be warm, his gaze so smitten.
That look in his eyes, was so familiar a dream.
His voice used to be so soft, his touch so tender.
Those visions of him, you knew they were seldom true.
His embrace endearing, his kisses slow and passionate, as though you were the most delicate flower he had ever the pleasure of finding.
His love was your hope, like that of a sprouting seedling in a vast desert. His scent was your calm, like the sound of rain pattering against glass. His voice a lullaby to your dreams.
And now all you had left of him was the old, scruffy, pale blue scarf.
And you loved it as much as you loved him and he loved you.
The faint scent of his cheap cologne still lingered. You had done your best to find the brand, but failed. How hard was it to find the same exact cheap cologne? Very, you had come to realise.
The Empire destroyed everything. It took him away, it destroyed his memory.
"Y/n?" His voice asked, but it wasn't his voice. This one had a husky timbre to it, as though he hadn't felt anything but the familiar burn of a cigar against his lips in a long time. It wasn't the same.
"Hunter?" Your voice came out soft, quiet as though he had interrupted an intimate moment you were having.
He took a long moment to continue, his gaze sturdy and focused on your figure.
"Someone's here to see you."
His eyes met yours as you shifted around, a brow raised questioningly. His shoulders stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. He knew what you were about to say.
"Tell them-"
"It's urgent," He interrupted, putting emphasis to his words, swallowing harshly as he felt his throat tighten, "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't," He paused again, this time his gaze dropping to the wet concrete beneath his feet, and suddenly he was all too aware of the loud pattering of the rain against his hair and the concrete, of the rough and short beats of your heart echoing in his ears, "Trust me." His gaze rose back to yours.
With a shake of your head, you pulled the scarf tighter around yourself. This was one of the few bits of time you had to yourself, that you could spend on thinking. Thinking of him.
Amongst the many missions and bounties, your mind always failed to remember him. The faces of his brothers, the different tones and accents and timbres, they all mixed and matched together until it was all a blur. At first, you were happy to be surrounded by Hunter and the Batch. But now you could barely remember the face of the man from your dreams.
The door creaked shut behind you, the sound of rain muffled by the all-too loud music of the bar below. You hated it. You could never focus with it on.
The heavy scent of alcohol lingered in the air, like a poisonous fog ready to fill your lungs and taint your blood. Your chest felt stuffy every time you were forced to be in the vicinity of the awful stench.
Hunter's heavy boots thudded against the concrete floor, his head hung low as he kept a fast. steady pace, refusing to give you enough opportunity to question him, enough chance to prod him where you needed to get your answers.
He wouldn't give in so easily even if you tried.
Not tonight.
Though it seemed you hadn't felt the need to ask.
Not tonight.
Your mind was in a different plane, a different galaxy. A distant past.
The hallway seemed to narrow down the longer you walked, winding around corners and staircase openings like a never-ending labyrinth. You were slowly becoming sick of it. Why was this building so dauntingly tall?
The walls seemed to be crumbling down and wailing for repair with each crack that extended down hallways, staircases and rooms. Grimaced faces were painted on the sickly orange walls, freshly patched spots grasping to hold the structure together as the building shook with the volume and vibrations of the music.
Hunter hated it too. But he could bare with this for a moment longer. For you.
His throat dried up as the door came into view, and his ears heard the way the pace of your heart picked up as he spoke, "They're behind that door."
His hands fell to his side, smearing the sticky sweat on his armoured thigh, and his steps slowed down, his own heart matching the pace of yours. You must have known by now, right?
"Who is it?" You asked as you came to an abrupt stop, just inches away from the door. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. The two of you stared into each others eyes, silently communicating through the miniscule, atomic-like movements of your irises.
It wasn't hard to know what you were thinking. Nor what Hunter was.
Who is it? He imagined your voice to be soft, velvety like freshly cleaned cushions, the unsure tenderness of it warming his heart.
Go ahead and find out. You imagined his voice to be gravelly, like waves crashing against a sandy shore, the hum they left behind sending shivers down your spine.
With a soft sigh, you turned away from his towering frame.
Lifting a shaky hand, you turned the knob.
The door creaked uncomfortably, like the wornout strings of an old violin.
A gentle, dimmed light flooded the hallway, painting it a sickly shade of yellow. Was this a hotel or a pigsty?
You could almost taste the years worth of dust on the tip of your tongue.
The doorknob felt rough and weak under your touch, the dragged wood pressing against the pads of your fingers.
With a heavier push, the door managed to pull open, screeching in protest until it came to a final stop.
Your chest stopped heaving up and down as the air was caught in your throat.
A sudden lightheadedness hit you, eyelashes blinking rapidly as you tried to get a tighter grasp on the doorknob. For a moment, you scrunched your eyes shut, and fought away the dizziness that clamped around your temple like a pair of metal tongs.
When your eyes opened again, you felt a pair of arms get a hold your waist.
Was someone hugging you?
Maybe, you thought and as you slowly looked down, you noticed a pair of armoured arms wrapped around you. Hunter's arms.
Did you fall?
You couldn't feel your legs.
As you looked up again, it all dawned on you.
The man from your dreams.
At first, you only saw the faded maroon poncho. It was overly large, and clearly didn't fit. It looked old, tattered as loose threads stuck out at odd angles.
And then you glanced down. White armour clung to his legs, embracing his feet and shins and thighs.
Your gaze wondered up, spotting the helmet seated atop a bed behind him. Blue streaks dancing down the expanse of the white coat of paint. It lingered there, pricking at your heart strings as though wanting them to snap one by one.
It hurt.
Your chest was burning.
Your throat tightened, the painful drags of a wail tugging at your voice chords.
The arms around your waist tightened, a familiar head of ashy, chestnut brown hair tickling at your skin.
Where were you again?
Your eyes fluttered, blinking erratically as you fought to look up. Your mind couldn't let you.
You couldn't-
You couldn't rememeber his face.
A hand flew to your gaping mouth, covering the strangled whimper that erupted from deep within your chest, tearing at your throat as slowly, slowly you allowed your eyes to look up.
It hurt.
Did he always look so familiar? So.. Awfully perfect? So familiarly strange?
His warm, honey gold irises were locked onto you, wide and unblinking and disbelieving.
New wrinkles and aged lines dragged at his tanned skin, painting the picture of an abandoned, weary, scarred soldier, an abandoned and forgotten man.
His hair was still that beautiful blonde, his sun-kissed skin and chapped lips still brought out that awfully familiar, but long forgotten feeling in the pits of your stomach.
It's him.
It's-
"Rex?"
#captain rex x reader#star wars#the clone wars#angst#captain rex#tcw#star wars fanfiction#star wars the clone wars#sw tcw#sw tcw fanfic#tcw rex#ct 7567#the bad batch#the bad batch hunter#order 66#post order 66#jedi reader#star wars x you#captain rex x you#star wars prequels#tcw fanfic#rex x you#clone trooper#clone trooper rex x reader
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