#how mean. how cruel to do that to someone of my standing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lavandulawrites · 5 months ago

Note

Hello! I found your writings about yan!Dottore & I am a brand new fan!! You are such an awesome writer 😁

Since requests are open, I was wondering if you could write some headcanons/drabbles about how the Genshin men (including Dottore my fave) would react if their darling, who was pregnant with their child, tried to run away? Saying "I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"

Yandere Genshin Men With a Pregnant Runaway Darling

Yandere Ayato, Dottore, Lyney, Neuvillette, Wriothesley x female reader (separate)

Thank you!<3 I only wrote for five of them, but I’m thinking of writing for more of them in some other parts:) (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2819

Ayato

You ran and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. You needed to get to safety. Both for yourself and for your unborn child. Your bare feet were drumming over the wooden floors.

The Kamisato estate was like maze. The long hallways seemed never ending.

When you finally reached the door that led out to one of the gardens, you were filled with relief. You slid the door open and was welcomed by the heavenly sea breeze. Your joy, was however short lived.

Standing in the garden admiring the purple sunset was Ayato. He turned around and smiled gently. He motioned for you to join him and before you knew it, your feet had brought you by his side.

“The sky is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” his eyes turned upward towards the endless sky.

You followed his gaze. The sky was in fact extremely beautiful. The purple colour the same shade as Ayato’s eyes.

The man besides you was cunning and as cruel as a snake, but he was undoubtedly the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. His dark lashes fluttered as his gaze shifted to you. He remained silent for a while, just taking in the sight of you. He often did just that and it made you nervous, since you could never be completely sure as to what exactly ran through his brilliant mind.

“I’m glad you fell for my little trap. If you hadn’t, I would have to enjoy this sunset all alone. Sunsets are best enjoyed by the side of someone you love, wouldn’t you agree?” his melodic voice coiled around your mind. Enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

You quickly snapped out of it. “I want to leave” your voice low, but your words clear as day.

Ayato hummed at your words “Why is that?”

“Because I’m more like a prisoner than your wife” you snapped.

“A prisoner? What gave you that idea?” he raised a brow.

“Don’t play stupid Ayato” you sneered. “You’re not letting me leave no matter what. Doesn’t that sound awfully a lot like a prison to you?”

“I’m protecting you and at the same time I’m keeping what’s mine far away from prying eyes. I’m doing you a favour” his smirk completely gone and replaced by a cold glare.

“I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you screamed, not caring about who could hear you.

“Don’t think I’ll ever let you leave me. When you said yes to my proposal, you sealed your faith. It’s not my fault you were unable to think about what the future involved” he smirked at your scared expression. “Don’t cry, I mean you no harm. That much should be obvious.”

Dottore

The dining room was decorated in an attempt at making it cozy. The grand chandelier that hung over the dining table casted a warm light over the table, almost making it homely. The plate in front of you was barely touched. You were hungry, but you didn’t have the time to finish your meal.

You glanced up at the butler who was standing by the door. His eyes was glued to a spot on the far wall and his posture was rigid.

Your cleaned your mouth with the napkin before your rose from your seat. “I’m finished with my meal. Please tell Dottore when he returns to come to my chambers” you told the maid as she silently cleaned up the dishes.

She bowed “Yes madam.”

Your heels clicked against the polished wooden floors. You had to quickly change into different shows and more practical clothing.

You quickly opened the bedroom door and hurried to your huge closet that was the size of a small room. You changed into some thick trousers and warm boots with white fox fur.

You quickly pulled in your coat and a scarf. You opened the large windows and you peered down. You pulled on your hood and your mittens before you ventured down the ladder you had found in an abandoned closet in a part of the house that was rarely ever used.

The ladder creaked underneath your weight and you prayed that it would mange to hold you. Both of you.

You landed into the soft snow and you quickly ran down towards the gates.

The tall wrought iron gates were impossible to climb, especially if one was pregnant, but you had luckily borrowed the key from one of the butlers.

You twisted the key and the gates opens with a load groan. You could smell your freedom.

You locked the gate behind you before you walked down the hill that the house stood tall and proud on top.

The snow glittered in the moonlight and green-purple aurora danced over your head. The sight was so beautiful you almost wept.

As you wandered down the hill you got completely lost in the beauty of the winter landscape. You knew it was foolish, but you hadn’t been outside in so long.

The sound of hoofs snapped you out of your daydreaming. As you raised your gaze you were met with the sight of your husband’s beloved steel grey stallion. The stallion snorted hot air towards you. It looked like a beast at it stood tall in the moonlight.

On top of the proud animal was Dottore. His gaze sharp and would cause anyone who was on the receiving end of it to tremble. You were no different.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” his voice colder than the cold winter wind that ruffled your hair.

At your silence he only sighed. “You are truly a lost cause. Are you seriously going to cause your unborn child harm in order to escape? You are even more foolish than what I thought” he scoffed as he made the horse circle you.

You spun around in order to keep an eye on his movements. “What makes you think I want to stay with you? Your arrogance disgusts me!” you sneered. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your voice echoed through the treetops that surrounded the hill.

“Watch your tongue” he spat.

Your escape attempt had been a complete failure.

Dottore had reprimanded you for hours when you had been brought back inside.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“If I ever catch you trying to escape ever again, there’s going to be dire consequences. You’re not going to accidentally harm my child. Our child. Do I make myself clear?” his tone stern.

Your eyes fixated on his neatly polished shoes. You nodded and muttered a low “yes”.

He gripped your jaw and forced your head up. “If you disobey me I will have to chain you to the bed and I really want to avoid that. So be a good girl.”

Lyney

The purple cat-like eyes of the magician was narrowed in anger and hurt. He had just caught you as you had sneaked out of the house with bag packed with your clothes and necessities.

The living room was empty except from the two of you. His younger brother and sister were out on business.

The record player in the corner by the fireplace was playing the soft tune of a ballet he had taken you to when you first started dating.

Lyney was sitting in front of you on a red arm chair. He was resting his head on his arms. His gaze faced down as he thought on what to say to you.

The only thing that separated the two of you was the coffee table. Normally you would have taken you your time to clean it, but not today. Multiple cards were littered across it accompanied with some face flowers. The mess was surprisingly beautiful.

“I don’t understand how you could do something like that to me” his voice low. “I had it all sorted out. I have talked to Father and she has nothing against your pregnancy and our relationship. In fact she supports it. She knows how important family is after all.”

“But you had to try and ruin it. I really don’t understand” his violet eyes met yours. They were filled with more emotions than what you could possibly make out.

“Lynette and Freminet even said they can take care of the baby if the two of us have plans or need some time for ourselves. Yes, Freminet is still a teenager, but he’s still fit to look after a child. He often take care of the younger children in The House. And Lynette has always had a soft spot for baby’s” his voice was getting louder.

“You don’t get it do you, Lyney?”

“Get what exactly?” his eyes scanned your features for something.

“You’re a cruel man. You have locked my away just because you think it’s for the best. You haven’t even bothered to even ask me what I want!” your voice was getting louder and louder by each word that left your lips. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you stood up form the couch. Your finger pointed at him. “You disgust me.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief. Crystal tears welled up in his eyes and he furiously tried to blink them away. “What?” his voice was weak by hurt. “I’m trying to protect you! Why don’t you understand?” tears were now falling from his eyes as he had fallen to his knees in front of you.

It was a pity full sight, but he couldn’t care less. “Family is what matter the most to me! And you! You are a part of my family now and so is our unborn child!”

You tried to step back, but his hand was tightly gripping your thigh.

A broken laughter escaped from his lips and a rose to his feet slowly. His eyes crazed as they met yours. “You’re clearly unfit for making your own decisions, but worry not. I will help you. And together we’re going to raise the sweetest little child one could ever dream of.”

His unhinged voice and manner sent chives down your spine and you could feel the imaginary cage that wrapped itself around you. You were trapped between the claws of the beast-like cat, with no escape.

Neuvillette

The entire nation of Fontaine were searching for you. You would be lying if you said you were surprised. The judge could be awfully convincing when he wanted to.

Since your escape it had been raining non stop. Heavy rain poured down from the sky undisturbed. The rocks on the forgotten path you had chosen were slippery, and you had to be careful.

In the distance, from the town you had a pasted hours prior, you could hear the loud voices of the search party they had organised. Hounds barked as they made their way up the mountain. You quickly picked up your pace.

After an hour or so walking through the rain you finally found a small abandoned cottage. You were filled with relief when you noticed that the door was unlocked.

It smelled of mould and you felt bad for your unborn, but you had no other choice. The windows were dirty, but intact. You slumped down on the old couch. Your body was aching and you were so tired.

You did not know how much time had passed when you awoke to the sound of a fist pounding the creaky old front door. You rose to your feet with such fast motion that you knocked your elbow against the wooden armrest of the couch. You hissed in pain and clutched it as you made your way to the hallway.

You hid behind the door to the bathroom as you peered out the window by the door. You couldn’t see anyone.

The pounding continued and you were afraid whoever it was would break down the door if this continued.

“Who is it?” you meekly asked.

The pounding came to an halt and a gruff voice answered you. “I am from the neighbouring village. We are looking for the Iudex’s wife.”

You were about to answer when the door broke down. A tall and sturdy man with a bear that reached below his collarbones entered. “I apologise miss, but I need to search the cotta-” his voice trailed off when his eyes fell upon you. His eyes widened to a state you were afraid they would roll out. He backed away slightly and shouted over his shoulder “I found her!”

You were about to silence him but it was too late.

The man who found you brought you out to the little courtyard. Your eyes widened in fear when a pair of pale lavender eyes stared back at you.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky with fear. You tried to back away from the tall dragon, but the search party blocked your path of escape.

“How could I not personally participate in the search of my own wife?” Neuvillette’s voice soft. He turned to the villagers “Please give us some space.”

The villagers nodded and quickly left.

As you stood all alone with your capture on the overgrown courtyard you couldn’t help, but think about all the choices you had made that had lead you to this.

“Why did you leave our home?” his deep voice had normally brought you comfort, but now it only brought you fear.

“Why? Any sane person would escape a madman such as yourself. You have taken everything from me and you still ask for more” you spoke with sudden braveness.

“I am not taking anything from you. You’re clearly not completely aware at the moment. But worry not, I’ll take care of everything. Just like I always have” his lips twisted up into a gentle smile.

“Oh really? I don’t believe you. I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you! Why don’t you understand?!” you were suddenly in front of him. Your finger jammed against his broad chest.

“Your words hold little meaning, my love. It’s my child too, do not forget. I have every right to be apart of its life just as you do. And besides in a matter of time you will have forgotten your… conflicted feelings” his big hand gently wrapped itself around your much smaller one. “I will make you happy. Just you wait” he gently kissed the top of your head. His kiss similar to the gavel he used to seal the fate of the poor souls in the Opera Epiclese.

Wriothesley

The Fortress of Meropide never got any more welcoming, no matter how much time you had been there.

You had tried to climb the stairs up to the surface, but Wriothesley had been quick to drag you back down again.

He had been eerily silent as he led you to his private quarters.

“This is your fourth escape attempt this two weeks. Are you not getting tired?” he sighed. He was leaning against the kitchen table, his arms folded over his muscular chest.

“I understand the Fortress is not the best place to raise a kid, but I have bought a house close to the entrance on the surface. I have made the arrangements so that we can rotate where we both stay. I will of course always stay with you in the house. I know it’s not optimal, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s not enough” you muttered.

“We will have to make it work.”

“Why? I didn’t ask to be sent here. I don’t care about you and the Iudex agreement. I didn’t agree to any of this” you raised your voice.

“There’s many thing in life that I haven’t asked for. You will manage” Wriothesley’s voice was laced with uncharacteristic anger.

“I will not! I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your loud voice echoed inside the kitchen.

At your words something in Wriothesley snapped. “A monster you say?” he barked out a laughter. “I have been nothing but kind to you. But if you think that makes me a monster, I wonder what you’ll think of me now” his eyes colder than his vision.

Wriothesley dragged you inside your bedroom. “You’re not going to leave this room before I say you can. I will use the spare bedroom” he pointed to the bathroom. “If you’re thirsty between meals, you know where to find water.” With that he slammed the door closed. The sound of his key twisting sent a pang through your chest.

Escape had never seemed so far out of reach as it was now. You found yourself longing for the outside and the smell of the wildflowers that littered the green meadows of Fontaine. Maybe the house Wriothesley had promised you on the surface didn’t sound so bad after all.

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joonieskinks · 6 months ago

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au where you were married to Cpt John MacTavish, but wake up to find yourself married to Sergeant Johnny MacTavish (original vs remake Soap)

“No,” you state coldly. The shock was still sinking in.

“No, Price. That’s not my husband.”

Price’s gaze puzzles. “You asked for Johnny MacTavish, this is Johnny. Our Johnny.” He gestures to your supposed husband, who is taking this all in himself, but he sits just staring at you.

Johnny, who couldn’t stop admiring your face, your body, your ring on your fourth finger. He gave you that. Well, sort of.

Johnny, who was your husband. You, his wife. He had a wife in another life. Gods, what a catch you are, how did he manage to bag you? he thinks.

Wait. Gods, does that mean he gets you too?

“I asked for my John, my John MacTavish, my husband. He-“ You state and finally look, really look at the man before you, this Johnny.

“He’s too young, it’s not the same. It’s- it’s off.” You look back down to the floor, you’re utterly confused. One moment you’re in bed at home, the next you’re on base in a room that’s designated for “MacTavish”. At first you thought it was a dream, so of course you went asking for your husband just to see his face again.

You didn’t expect to actually see him, well- a younger version of your husband, much less an alive one. You had to pinch yourself, you really were here. This was real.

Maybe it was a second chance, maybe it was a cruel trick of fate. You couldn’t tell just yet. You were hesitant, scared.

But Johnny on the other hand, he was having a hard time keeping still and his hands to himself with the likes of you in front of him.

“Cap’, can ye give us a moment?” Johnny asked his superior, who happily obliged. Price eyed you as if to warn you not to do anything stupid, but still be backed out of the room.

You could still barely look at Johnny. He’s your husband, but so much younger, he’s still just as handsome, he’s technically yours but- it was all too weird. Would he even want you? What if he had someone else already?

“Bonnie? Will ya look at me?” Johnny comes straight up to you, holding your hands in his. His fingers playing with your wedding ring, he already loves the idea of it, of you as his. That ring to call you his and his alone. Never did he think he’d have anything remotely close to this, so he considers you a blessing if anything.

You reluctantly keep your head down so Johnny brings one hand to cup your chin, forcing your gaze up to his face.

The sight of his concerned face nearly breaks your heart. It hurts to see him yet it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of since his passing. To have him before you again. It’s all so overwhelming you can’t help but tear up.

“No need for that, bonnie.” He smiles as he cups your cheeks. It feels so good to have his skin on yours again, you close your eyes at the feeling.

“If you’ll have me, I’ll certainly have you. Even if ye are a cougar now.” He jokes and your eyes shoot open at his words. You hit him lightly out of annoyance, but he just smiles. You can’t help but begrudgingly smile back, rolling your eyes.

Same sense of humour. Maybe he is your husband after all.

“I missed you so much, Johnny.” You admit, bringing your fingers to graze across his face. To actually feel him again, it really feels like you’re getting your second chance at love.

“‘Ts nice to finally meet my missus.” He says softly as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, but it’s you who brings your lips to meet his, losing yourself in his touch after all these years alone…

Then it hits you that this younger version of your husband might have even more stamina and strength- so naturally you waste no time getting him back into his quarters and testing that theory.

At first you feel a little nervous that Johnny might not like what he sees. After all, you are a couple years older than he is now, but he’s utterly entranced as you stand bare before him. His hands all over your body, exploring every crevice, kissing you up and down. He can’t get enough.

“My wife’s so beautiful”, “my wife’s all mine”, “gonna make ya feel so good, show ya what a good husband I’ll make for ya.”

#little puppy soap omg #joonieskinks #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap x y/n #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x you #cod mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #cod x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x you #john price #ghost simon riley #Simon ghost riley

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netherfeildren · 7 days ago

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Busy, Dying. Part 1;

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: In an in-between place called his life, Joel Miller is alone. In search of a cure. In need of a miracle. In want of God.

Can I interest you in a cure for loneliness? She'd asked him in a language without words. Taking it is the easy part. Letting her go is impossible.

-OR-

an a/b/o soulmates AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Infidelity, Cheating, HEA!!!!!, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Mating Bites, Knotting, Heat Sex, Breeding Kink, Group Therapy, Social Experiments, Basically puppy training for unsocialized Alphas, And by God that man will be house trained by the time she’s done with him!, Complicated family dynamics, Discussions of self harm, Depression, Existential Angst, Author returns not with a whimper but with a KNOT, I wrote this in a very unserious state of mind beware

A/N: Gray November, I've been down since July - but we're so back, baby. I’ve missed this so bad. I’ve missed you all, I won’t drone on and on. I hope you enjoy, and please talk to me in the comments. Update me on what I’ve missed, let me know how you’ve been and what’s happening in your life.

A great heartfelt thank you to all of my wonderful friends who so supportively cheered me on while I struggled to write this. Sincerely the best people I know.

Love you all madly.

Word Count: 6.5K

Read on AO3

Part 1;

The old linoleum tiles are the most peculiar shade of puce, and Joel has realized that there is someone sitting at the back of the room who smells… strange.

More brown than purple—an ugly color. There’s something about it that fascinates him.

The woman that is currently speaking tells of her husband; it’s the only tale she has to tell. She’s been doing it for weeks, and they all know it well by now. Older, omega, the woman, and at the latter and less comely stage of life. Most of them here can say the same. They usually give their names, those that get up to share—although it’s never a requirement when you attend, it is highly encouraged—the sharing, he means—but he never pays much mind to them—the names, that is. That’s not what he’s here for after all—to make friends. Although, he does see how that’d be the initial assumption.

Joel Miller is here for something more specific.

Six weeks he’s been showing up to these things now, and he’s yet to take a turn. He tells himself he’s working up to it.

What that specific thing is…he hasn’t quite figured out. He’s listening for it, though, and intently, even if he does skip over the names. It’s the details of what they’re telling that matter to him. The hows and intricate whys of what it is that brought them here today.

Her youth had been spent on a drunk, the woman is saying—her husband—and he’d been cruel to her in those days when there was still currency to spend in the form of her vitality. Joel nods at the puce—yes, he thinks, that’s usually the way of it. But later, there’s more to the story she reminds her audience, he drank himself into a fit, and had never been right since. The cruelty had been taken away from the marriage after that, and she’d been put in charge.

“But I wonder,” she says, “If sometimes I don’t miss it, the way he’d been,” —if the reason she was here now, with all of the rest of them that were just like her in their own unique ways, was that she’d been left lonely after her cruel husband had been exchanged for a sick one.

Joel nods again and wonders what sort of face the woman wears as she confesses but doesn’t bother to check. No matter, he knows they’re the same. If not in designation, then in heart.

It’s easy, that thing, he does it too, to wish for the bad. To want to hold on to it, the thing that hurts. Addictive, even, in some cases. Missing it is easy.

It’s why he’s here.

And it’s what they promise you. In their flyers and pamphlets, when they stand on the corners of streets talking people up wearing that look in their eye and that slouch in their step, when they smell it on you—or in the lack there of—a mate or a purpose.

Welcome to our meeting. We’re here to find the cure for loneliness.

That’s what they promise you when you come here.

It’d been that word: loneliness, actually, that had caught him. L-O-N-E-liness. There was something attractive about it to him. Not a label but a state.

You see, it was like this: Joel had seen a therapist once, several years ago, against his will and at the behest of another, who’d said all the wrong things in all the wrong ways.

“You sound depressed, Joel,” the therapist had told him.

He’d worn horn rimmed glasses and had a shiny bald head he could see the reflection of the overhead lights in. And worse—the non-scent of a beta which told him they’d never understand each other in the ways Joel longed to be understood. He’d—not hated him, necessarily—but felt an immense apathy for the man; more so than the regular apathy he felt for most things in his life.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Very, very sad,” was the official diagnosis.

Joel hadn’t liked the sound of the word. The label. He did not like that a word so succinct could be ascribed to him and all that had happened to him in his life. There was no word for it. It just was.

But there was something different about a state of aloneness, which if attributed to himself, he could accept. He had been left alone, in ways. It was a tangible thing he could look around a room inside of himself and recognize.

They’re meetings, is what this place is—encounter groups this coalition offers where lonely demi humans can come to congregate, discuss their aloneness, what had led them to such a state; their lack of attachments, connections, mates—alpha, omega. Held in the basement of the Emmanuel Episcopal Church on Newbury street, right between his shop and house, although they never talk about religion which he likes because he doesn’t believe in religion.

God is still under review.

He wonders if the Catholics wouldn’t have them.

Sitting forward in his seat, the metal folding chair that always leaves his back aching something fierce, he presses his elbows into his knees to distract with alternative pressure. Focusing on his fingers woven together between his spread legs, he tries to pay attention to the man who’s stood up to speak now. Older than himself, late sixties, no children, no family, no nothin’; he’d run them all off.

But Joel is distracted.

The smell is stronger now. Stranger too. Something full bodied, but metallic like rust, astringent bleach, built in a way that forces saliva to pool heavy between his suddenly aching gums. A mask that sits atop something of a much different chemical architecture—that’s the strange part.

Or—no. The back of his neck itches, and Joel lifts a palm to cup his nape, quell the sting, feel the tender mark. No. The strange part is not the illusion of the smell. What it is, actually, is that he’s fairly certain what he’s smelling is someone else's blockers. Something which he’s positive he’s never consciously noticed on another person in the thirty plus years since he’d presented as an alpha.

He has, suddenly, the quite intense urge to peek over his shoulder, certain that he’ll be caught smelling things he has no business smelling. That there will be someone just there, breathing down the nape of his neck with accusation on their tongue—boo!

Silly. But he’d known today would not be a good day.

It’d started off wrong. The milk had gone sour overnight, the check engine light had come on in his truck, all his socks were suddenly mismatched with not a single pair to be found, and his usual route to work had been waylaid by some freak accident. A tree split in half, one side into a house, the other into the road. Not a sign of lightning in the sky all night long.

Perhaps he might be compelled to believe in God after all.

Joel does not like it when things are out of order or out of the ordinary. His life was organized in a way that never caused him strife or excess. And it was not that he was stuck in his ways, only that he enjoyed his routine and disliked when things were not as they should be. And this—whatever it is he’s smelling, whoever—is not as it should be.

The older gentleman, an Alpha too, is still speaking. He had a daughter, has, who no longer speaks to him. Won’t even take his money. He’d had a long career in government that’d filled him with greed and paranoia and a radical view of life that refused to align with the way young people saw the world now. Perhaps he’d tried to change at certain times, but he was old and set in his ways. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to change as badly as he should have when he still had the chance to. Happily stuck in the past. His wife had died, and his daughter had gone away from him. Too tired of his mediocrity as a father to give him another chance.

The man sounds like he feels sorry for himself. Like he thinks himself the victim, and this one, Joel does look up at. He looks old and worn down, heavy beer pouch and thinning hair and sagging jowls. A sad and lonely man. Joel wonders if that’s how he looks to the other people in this room, as well.

“No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.” Joel blinks, looks at him more closely, tries very hard to find similarities between themselves. But no—not quite right, not the thing he’s looking for. Their plight is different. This man is not alone, he’s got his weakness to keep him company.

The one thing Joel had fought like hell to keep out of his repertoire of issues. He’d run from even the possibility of it as soon as she was dead, left Texas straight for the Northeast and from thereafter, everything he’d done, he’d done with a staunchness of character. If at the end of it, that staunchness was made up of apathy or numbness or dissociative fury, well, then at least he wasn’t still that man who’d been too weak to save his daughter.

That counted very much in Joel’s book.

An overabundance of cold numbness, little anger, everything a static haze—an abstinent winter. That was his whole life. But then, look at him now, he was here, wasn’t he? He’d taken that brochure handed to him on that last warm Tuesday weeks ago as he’d headed back to the shop from lunch.

Hello, sir. Could I interest you in a cure for loneliness? The young omega had said.

It’d started like anything—an experiment or a desperate ploy. The monotony had been steady going the past few years, getting older, colder. He’d grown hard and solitary around his wound, loneliness spread like a fungus, and he’d longed for any sort of change.

“A cure…how?” The terrible shrink had come to mind.

“Oh, nothing to fret over.” The young man had a nice smile, Joel remembers. Kind and straight toothed. Honest in the way that a stranger knocking on your door to sell you a Bible seems honest. “We call it an encounter group. People come, share, tell the tales of their designation and their lives. In the end, the result is different for different people. Some move on to a second step if they need more. Others find what they’re looking for just through the connection of sharing. But no matter the result, you’ll see, you’ll be cured. Promise.” He’d winked, smile deepening, giving him an appreciative once over at the end of his spiel. Joel had blinked back, surprised, confused, but curiosity peaked enough he’d obsessed over it for three short days before he’d found himself stepping into the molted incense smell of the belly of a church so dimly lit he was sure not even God peaked in this sad space any longer.

“It’s that easy?” Joel had asked, childlike in his throat-strangled hope.

“That easy.”

It seemed the smile had been honest enough to sell him the Bible.

The scent insists upon itself as the older gentleman finishes up, and Joel’s nose tickles with whatever it is it’s whispering at him. He wants to get up and walk out, run away, but suddenly his gut is tight and hot, and he isn’t sure he can actually stand up without disgracing himself in front of all these people. A wash of agonized heat moves through him, confused at what’s suddenly happening to his body.

“We have a newcomer today sharing for the first time,” Maria, the woman who leads the group, says at the front of the room. “Everyone give her a warm welcome, it’s her first day and already she’s brave enough to jump on up here.”

There’s the shuffling of bodies in their seats, a cleared throat, the man sitting behind Joel breathes so loudly he thinks he’s gotta have some sort of medical condition, the puce turns more hideous by the second, and his own heart is beating so hard in his ears the rush of blood is dizzying. He feels each thump of the thing against his breast bone in some sick imitation of a fist begging to be let out.

The new voice begins as nothing but a murmur.

An introduction—he misses the name. His breathing goes shallow, he’d tip over in his seat if he didn’t have both boots planted firmly against the puce. The voice gains strength and with it, Joel wishes he’d been paying attention from the start. He didn’t get to hear her name.

It’s a girl.

She’d run away from home in the spring of her sixteenth year to join the opera, she tells them. Had come upon the city in roaring spring and thought the rest of her life would be exactly like that, pure novelty in bloom, nothing like what she’d left behind. And was deeply disappointed when the reality was nothing such.

And Joel hears it, that disappointment in her voice at what she’d not been able to find after searching for it so religiously. This is what makes him look up at her. This, unlike all the others, he thinks he can relate to—just by the sound of her voice. The search for a thing lost which can never again be found. The fruitlessness of it all.

At that first vulnerable, terrified glance, she’s already staring at him, eyes catching like hooks.

He blinks once, twice—color—is sure he can hear the movement of his eyelashes passing through the air, the stick of his lids meeting—color—bright. This is it.

That wash of heat turns into a blaze, every single bead of sweat blooming on his brow is a tell evaporating into the ether. This is what he’d sensed from the start of the evening. Maybe even from the moment he’d seen that split maple.

“My mother always said I needed to be stronger, bolder, not so sensitive.” She looks away from him now. “I grew up in an angry house where you had to fight tooth and nail not to be overrun. Because of this, I left it at a very young age, and it was the greatest fight I could muster, abandoning that house of anger. I found myself something to bring me what I thought would be joy, a job and a city, and for a time, it was enough. But starting your lonely life so young…it’s hard.” After a pause of breath, “It’s been hard.”

“And it’s made me never want to have to—exert myself,” she says, searching for the right words, smiling when she finds them, and Joel has the urgency to smile back. “Now, I never want to have to be strong. I never want to have to try. I want to only be the way that I am. If that’s weak or sensitive or whatever it might be at any given moment, I don’t care. I don’t want to have to fight. I never want to be in an angry house again. I want someone who’ll see this in me and understand and never make me work for it, that they would give it to me willingly, easily, without me having to ask. Do you understand?” She looks about the room, and he hopes her eyes will land on him again, and even though they don’t, he feels she’s speaking directly to him. He nods, the hook of her temptation cast beneath his chin. “This is a fantasy. And it makes for a lonely existence. This idea of how I need it to be for it to be right—love.” She looks down at her hands folded atop the podium where they go to stand at the front of the group and share, and he wills her gaze to find him amidst the crowd again. “It’s so difficult. And this might seem very bad to you, weak willed, but it’s not. It’s only very honest. Which can never be a bad way to be.” That’s why she’s here, she tells them.

Finally, she looks back at him, and it’s that loneliness of two people amidst a crowd, facing one another, knowing themselves mirrored against the other and yet still disparate. There’s something indecent about the way she looks at him in front of all these people, the way he, in turn, looks back. A little bit like finding your own face on a stranger's body in a crowded room. Color rises to his face, and she gives him that same elusive smile from before.

He’s the one to look away this time.

As the crowd disperses for coffee and pastries after the last of the speakers, he searches for her. He needs to ask her name, feels as if he’s some blighted creature without it, swears he’ll never forgo attention during a meeting again if he can fish it out of her.

He finds her at the dessert table, Maria at her side and a hand at her shoulder. Something of a thank you is being imparted between the two women. The girl is saying she’s grateful for the welcome, grateful that they’d found each other.

Joel has things to be grateful to Maria for, too. His brother, mainly. It’d been pure chance that Joel had met her here, that she knew Tommy also. She’d met his brother on a summer trek to Wyoming where they’d become friends and had kept in touch afterwards. The woman has a thing about her that ingratiates people by sheer force of will. Perhaps it’s that she’s an alpha, too. Perhaps it’s just the charisma and wide smile. The fact that she has a countenance that takes no shit from anyone, that makes demands of a person whether they’ve got any give or not. But whatever the case, they’d realize their connection through Tommy, and she kept Joel updated on his brother whom he’d not spoken with in many years.

Watching the two women stand together and share that easy thanks that Joel so urgently owes, and yet which he cannot voice, he feels, suddenly, so angry. So awkward. So humiliatingly inexperienced. So unable to grapple with the pain of human contact, the fascination of it, the humiliating necessity.

That decade old anchor weighing him in place and the guilt of even thinking of it as such.

I feel decrepitly alone and odd, he thinks. And how strange, no? He was a normal man. He has a normal job. He lives in a normal house. Unexceptional in every sense. Everything in his life had been ordinary up until that one great tragedy. And then, as if none of the before had ever existed, it was as if everything afterwards was one great landslide of wrongness. The filth of it slinging mud all over his life so that nothing had ever been right after her.

So that now he cannot even approach this girl whose name he needs to know, and Maria, to whom he owes the last surviving connection to his brother.

As Maria turns to go, she gives him an encouraging nod, sending him into an agony of shyness. She’d sensed him hovering.

The girl remains at the dessert table, perusing the pastries. He can see her fingertips dancing over the golden, sugared confections, before she settles on a plain, glazed donut. He watches the bend of her elbow, bringing it to her mouth and thirty seconds later, the empty hand reaching for a napkin. He can’t help the huff of laughter it draws from him.

Watching the unknown creature with her back turned, he peers down the length of himself. Wood stain marred t-shirt, old work jeans and scuffed boots, he’d come straight from the shop. Looking back at her, she seems perfectly packaged and pristine. The two of them, different as chalk and cheese. He tells himself he shouldn’t do it, turn around and go, leave her alone, as he steps up beside her at the table.

Immediately, there’s the heat of her skin, the smell of her shampoo, and he realizes, and it’s silly because it should’ve been obvious from the get go, she’s an omega. The epiphany, not that she is one, but that he’d been too stupid and oblivious to notice, leaves him feeling vulnerable and angry.

Any sort of hello that’d been coming alive on his tongue immediately dies. And he’s about to make a run for it once again when she speaks up from beside him, “Would you like a donut?” Her small fingers are dancing over the pastries, searching once again. “I haven’t had one yet,” she lies, “I can’t decide which looks best.”

The dancing hand pauses over a golden brown puff pastry, seemingly coming to a decision, when she turns to look up at him. The scent of her isn’t just shampoo, not just the blockers he’d shockingly picked up on before, sharp, burning his nose. It’s her skin now, too. The dry sweat from hustling under her coat to make it to her first meeting on time salted along her limbs. Hot, sweet almonds. The shocking vermillion of the morning’s split maple comes to mind. He can smell her.

“A puff pastry?” She presses, quizzical crook to her brow at his silence and glower. “I think you really need something sweet. It’ll make you feel better.”

He wants to agree, to say he also thinks he needs something sweet. All he can manage is a short grunt because she smells…indescribable. Honeyed musk, something heady, like she herself had just got done baking, straight out of the oven and full of sugar into his waiting mouth.

That earlier anger, it kicks up a notch. Why isn’t he fucking saying anything?

She shrugs, as she lifts the puff pastry to her mouth he finally manages sound.

“You stink.”

He doesn’t know when he became such a liar.

A pause, mouth open, straight, white teeth ready to bite into the fluffy sweet bread. He can see her small, pink tongue, and it makes him go a little woozy.

He might be losing his mind.

She’s got elegant eyebrows that shoot straight up her smooth forehead. The look of her skin is glorious. “Excuse me?”

Now, there seem to be too many words spilling out of his mouth. “You need better meds or somethin’. Need to sort your shit out. Can’t go gallivanting about the world smellin’ like that.” Oh god, shut up.

“Excuse me!” She takes a huge bite of the pastry. “I do not gallivant,” she shoots back, mouth full of sugar and Joel goes hot everywhere. “What is wrong with you?” she demands, the pursing of a prim little mouth as she chews, eyeing him maliciously.

He hasn’t the damndest clue.

She is not wary of him in the slightest, which in turn tells him he needs to be wary of her.

Another large bite, inexplicably she extends her free hand towards him—potentially going into shock and entirely out of his depth when he takes it, the vulnerability of tendon and muscle soft beneath his strength—offering him a firm shake. She gives him her name.

In that moment, she has a look about her that tells him she’ll bite back if he isn’t careful, even if she hurts herself in the process.

And now he knows you.

“We might as well acquaint ourselves if you’re going to insult me. Don’t you think?” Peering up at him, he’s tall, well over six feet, and broad shouldered. Older, distinguished, but in a rough way, hewn oak, gray. “Are you typically this rude? Or is this a special occasion?”

Incredibly handsome.

“I’m being serious.”

“I do not stink. No one has ever said that to me, and my blockers are quality. It must be a you problem.” The puff pastry really is very good. And this man really is very handsome. Coming here today was a good idea.

One of the girls from the theater had suggested it, handing you a pamphlet with Looking for the Cure for Loneliness? emblazoned across the top, and even though she’d done it kindly, any other person would’ve taken the implication as an insult. Hey girl! No offense, but we all in the company think you’re super weird and have you heard about this support group for losers? Kind of like Omegas Anonymous!

Those hadn’t been her exact words, and you hadn’t taken offense. After the initial agony of embarrassment, you’d warmed to the idea. You’d heard of groups like these before. Congregations of demi humans where one could come to find community or connection. Be it socializing or support for people struggling with their designations and all that they implied, they served their purpose. And anyways, you weren’t in a position to be nitpicky.

It’s true, you’re alone.

So alone, in fact, that even the people around you could tell. Strangers, coworkers, your roommate and her girlfriend. Like some noxious cloud of loneliness following you around virtue signaling the desperate need for love and companionship and understanding you’re so in need of.

You increasingly saw yourself as a dancer on her toes, trembling delicately all over, vying desperately to survive to the end of the song. A monster with too many heads. A Cerberus of the richest caliber.

Two or three would’ve been acceptable—heads—but you'd long surpassed that and moved on to something unrecognizable and unpleasant. Desperately in need of a solution.

“Maybe you’re the one that stinks. Maybe it’s your upper lip.” And voila, the monster makes her debut.

“My—” The rude alpha, obvious, that one, lets out a choked sound, a deeper wash of color immediately flooding his cheeks. You dip your head sideways, appraising him as you polish off your second pastry. He has pretty bone structure, masculine, and after he’s done choking and spluttering, he can’t help but laugh a little bit. You see it.

Beneath a mouth that looks forbidding, perhaps even a little cruel, you can sense that he is not an unkind man.

Yet you’re not so green that you can’t recognize the gnawing hunger of loneliness in others. There’s always a reason people find themselves in places like these. His face, edged with the weariness of age, makes this obvious. He has good reason for subjecting himself to this.

Reaching for the lovely eclair you’d been deciding between earlier, you take a large bite of it. Almond cream and a thick layer of icing on top, humming happily as you chew while he stares at you like the three headed dog.

You hold the dessert out towards him, offering. Palm up, he shakes his head no, slightly disgusted look on his face.

“So. You come here often?”

He blinks. “Really?” Patronizing look on his face now.

“Why not? I am actually interested to know if this is worth my time.”

He rolls his eyes. Oh, he’s fun. “Yes, I come here often. Every Friday, for the past two months just about.”

“And you like it?”

“Is this the sort of place one likes?”

“Oh, come on. You never know what you might find.” He watches your mouth as you finish the eclair, swallowing hard. “Anyways, I think the world is kind of over out there. Don’t you? Might as well make the best of it in here.”

Thumb pressed against the edge of the table, he looks down, suddenly awash with shyness once again. A shy alpha, who’d of thought.

“What did you used to do?” He asks, motioning at the crowded room full of chatting alphas and omegas. You wonder how many of them will go home together for a fuck after this.

“When?” You ask, sure he means in lieu of this group, if you’d ever had another form of demi human community.

“Before this.”

“Before this? Nothing.” Smiling at him, certain he isn’t picking up on your teasing.

“Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ve always been here.”

“But— Don’t you…I thought...” He’s cute, shaking his head like you’re just too confusing to sustain. “You sing, right?” He pivots.

“Sing? Me? Whatever made you think such a thing?” The sly look on your face goes completely over his head and slides to the rest of the sweets. If he wasn’t watching, you’d have another.

“You said. You said you’re in the opera,” he gruffs back, looking visibly aggravated now.

Such fun.

“I’m a supernumerary,” you concede as you turn, making your way to an old relic of a pew along the far wall, tragically abandoning the desserts.

He follows as you go, sitting a respectful distance beside you.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“We’re the actors that fill the stage at the opera.”

“No singing?”

You shake your head, flirting with him. “I’m a wench, I’m a courtesan,” You bat your lashes, fingertips pressed coquettishly beneath your chin, “Part of a harem. I’m every woman you’ve never known. It depends on the opera.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I started as a stagehand when I first got to Boston. Worked my way up.”

“How’s it work? Lines or somethin’?”

“No lines. No anything. I’m a background actor—an extra, basically. If anything, I’m given some simple choreography direction, laugh, sigh, show fear, horror, shock. Whatever. I’m playing pretend without actually having to do anything.”

“No working for it.”

Your smile melts to blandness. So he’d been listening, then.

“Did you want to sing?”

“No. I wanted to be a supernumerary.”

“Strange. I’ve never heard of that,” he repeats.

“You did say, yes.” Now, the smile turns auspicious. Everyone’s here for something. “What do you do?” Perhaps this is it for him.

You eye the rest of the congregation, at the far exit, there’s a large alpha helping an omega into his coat.

“Got a shop, furniture, woodworking and such.”

“You make things?” He nods. “Ah, a man of creation.”

Sitting back to take him in, he’s got the beginning insinuations of silver speckling the dark hair at his temples, a well groomed beard, and large, intimidating hands.

His small huff of laughter is bashful, tinged with something disappointed. “No, nothin’ that grand.” And he’s got an accent heavy at the ends of his words, not Bostonian. Southern.

“But you know, I wanted to say…”

“Yes?” You press when he loses his courage, leaning towards him, inhaling deeply.

“Well, that I know what you meant earlier. Sometimes I can be the angry house.”

You blink once. Sit back. “I see.”

“It’s hard work. I have to try every day at it.”

Hard work being the house, or not? Two opposite sides of the same coin.

“How do you stop yourself?” You cast a line, fishing for his character.

“Don’t know. Keep myself cold, I think.”

“That’s no way to be.”

“No. It’s not.” He sounds amused. You want to bite him.

Everyone’s here for a reason.

“Ah, well. Perhaps that’s what’s brought you here then,” you say, twisting the toe of your sneaker against a scuff on the old hardwood, leaning forward on your palms wrapped around the edge of the pew.

“Maybe,” he says, but a sort of pained, exasperated sound follows it. Your hung head turns to peer at the handsome face, and he’s already looking at you.

There’s something animal afoot. Perhaps in terms of designation, sure, of course, like the rest of the alphas and omegas here. Your designations weigh heavily in the air. But also intrinsic to your two personalities. You feel you know him. That the two of you might have the same sorts of problems, desires. And as you stare at him, you think you may be equally measuring each other’s character, finding that similarity in one another.

His eyes move quickly between yours, over your face, and you can tell that prolonged eye contact isn’t his norm.

He has the most surprising set of bright hazel eyes like river stones.

Suddenly, you feel desperate to pull out a flicker of sexuality in the man, hear it in his voice. Sure, that with him, the experience would be entirely different, exhilarating. Perhaps a challenge. He seems to be more quiet and more patient than any other man you’d ever come across, but also more stern—taking in that soft mouth held so firmly. Far more remote too, by the far away look in his gaze. You want to see how he could be moved and what the sight of it would look like.

“Maybe not,” he finally continues. “I’m looking for something, I think.”

“Something like what?”

“Someone like me.”

“An alpha?”

“No,” he looks away, cringing. The word out loud seems a shock to him. “Did you listen to the woman at the start—missing the bad thing? I struggle…with that. Holding on, not letting go even when I know I should.”

You’re at an age now which sometimes makes it hard to realize or accept that what you’re living is your life. That it’s been time to grow up. That you have to remember to move forward when it’s your turn in line.

Which is to say, that you understand him—the difficulties of knowing when to hold on and when to give up.

“Sometimes you hurt yourself because you don’t have anything else to do. Sometimes, because the alternative is much worse.”

“Holding on ‘cause there’s nothing else to do?”

“Sure. Or you’re used to it.” You’ll be gentle with him, you decide. He’s in need of gentle handling despite the stern face; not a puzzle so arbitrarily solved. And those eyes are still so bright, he doesn’t seem like he needs any more hardship.

“Don’t know why I’m tellin’ you this,” he says, accent heavy.

“Well you did come here for a reason. Didn’t you?” Discreetly, you slide closer to his side, but he doesn’t notice. Apparently lost in the realization that perhaps this was what he’d come here for, to talk to someone, to have someone listen and relate. You’re almost positive he’s never gotten up to share with the group before in all his time coming to the meetings; doesn’t look like the type.

“I came here because I’m going to take better care of myself,” you tell him. “I’m going to try harder.”

“Harder at what?” He blinks as if attempting to come out of a dream.

“Everything. I don’t want to end up like my parents; drunk, angry, alone. I’m scared of it. I’ve avoided at least two of them.”

“I’m afraid of getting older,” the dream moves in his eyes. “That I’ll forget,” he says, but you don’t ask what.

All of a sudden, he seems very real. The swells of grief and loneliness moving through him so similarly, so close to the surface.

Springing up, you turn to face him and he follows to stand too. You can hear the crack of his knees unfolding, and when he lifts his left palm to stifle a gruff cough, the band of gold around his finger is paralyzing.

All of a sudden, he’d seemed like what you’d been looking for here too. There’s laughter coming from the church rafters.

“You’re a widower?” He wants to forget, he’d said he wants to let go.

Hadn’t he?

But instead, “What? No.” You stare pointedly at the ring, and he looks down at it also. “No,” he repeats.

“So’re you looking for a fuck, or what?” You try and hold back the bite it comes with, but you can’t.

“No. No. That’s not what I’m looking for.”

You don’t understand, impaired by your youth, you forget you’d chosen to be gentle with him. “Maybe it’s what you need,” you tell him, turning towards the exit before you can watch him cringe.

He follows at your heels, grabbing his coat from the hook by the doors before he’s stepping out after you into the fall blister. It’s cold and wet and glorious out.

“Don’t you have a coat?” He demands.

“Nope.” You start walking towards Arlington Street and the park.

“Did you walk here? It’s freezing out.”

“I did,” you turn back towards him, still moving, and he starts to follow.

“From where?”

“Downtown.”

“Where?” He scowls at your uncooperation, the married man. Alpha. The truth was that he’d smelt strange to you too. Like no one ever had before. As glorious and shocking as the cold. Like if snow had a scent. Disappointment churns in your gut alongside the excitement at the sight of him stalking after you.

“I don’t think you know it.” Your backward walk is interrupted as a hurrying stranger bumps into you, sending you staggering. Watch it, the Boston snark spits. The alpha turns to scowl, heavy boot forward like he’s half a mind to follow after the person you’ve just inadvertently assaulted.

And it occurs to you, “You didn’t tell me your name.” How silly of you. You’d been so distracted you’d forgotten to ask, and what if you never see him again after this? What if you can’t muster the courage to come back again next week? What if he can’t?

“It’s Joel.”

You think it sounds right.

“I might—know it.” Where you’re headed to. You smile at the dog with a bone. The disappointment pulses. “Is it far?” He presses. You shrug, looking over your shoulder. You’re going to lose yourself in the garden for a few hours, forget about him. “Why don’t you drive?”

“I like to walk,” you tell him, turning back.

He looks at you like he doesn’t like the things you say much less the way you say them much less the way you’re grinning at him. Perhaps he can see the disappointment and is disturbed by the sight of it, but the possibility seems too altruistic.

“You should try it sometime, Joel. You might like it too.”

His huge body seems to be shivering in the cold.

“I think…” The look on his face has turned suspicious now. He takes a step towards you. “You’re very strange. And you’re very young. I don’t think we should be friends.”

Your heart gives a demanding thump. “We’re not going to be friends.” When you’d first spotted him in the crowd, the strangest feeling had come over you. A tug behind your belly button, a scalding heat at the back of your neck, at your wrists. Perhaps it’s merely imagination, the look of disappointment you think you see on his face right before you turn away from him to continue on walking. “And I’m not that young anymore.”

You’d known today was going to be a good day. Extra cinnamon in your latte, a late start to your morning, warm in bed, no rain in the sky despite the cloud cover. And your director, late for rehearsals after some freak accident had befallen the roof of his house.

“That’s what all young people say.”

Part 2;

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ja3hwa · 1 month ago

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♡ 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

Day Sixteen - Fae/Orc ft. Size Kink

【Synopsis】 : Yunho was a myth amongst men. Yet here he stood, ready to protect you and take you away from the cruel life you lead... Only catch is you have to give him something in return...your hand in marriage.

『Word count』 : 7.78k

-> Genre: Smut. Fantasy. Angst.

Pairing: Chief!Orc!Yunho x Princess!Fae!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Blood. Gore. Reader is heavily conflicted with herself and was abused by her family. Fighting. Dry humping. Yelling. Crying. Cocky Yunho. Kinda mean Yunho at the start. Self hatred. Drooling. Mocking. Pet names. Dirty talking. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex.

Note: I want to state that, for the most part, this can be read as dub-con. But I want to assure you that nothing terrible happens in this story. I don't want to spoil anything, but please read this with caution. If anything in the warnings triggers you, please, for your sake and mine, do not read this fanfiction.

Also, I'm really proud of this, and I definitely enjoyed writing this type of genre. So please give it all the love ♡♡

Networks: @k-vanity @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

Storm Caller: A fierce warrior and saviour of the world. He is the chief of one of the largest orc clans there have ever been. Most knew him as cruel, dangerous, and unforgiving. His people had raided village after village, and now here he was directing his beastly men to capture any humans, Elvin and Fae, they could find. But what no one knew was that he was looking for someone in particular, a sweet little fae to be his chieftess.

A princess to be exact.

There were rows and rows of cages. Humans and fae alike chained and scared. No one moved, not even much of a peep as the orc chief walked past each and every one of the enclosures. It was only when he got to your cage that he stopped. His eyes fell onto your shaking figure in nothing but tatted rags. His lips curled into an evil smirk.

You noticed the presence in front of you, shuffling yourself until your back hit the cold wall behind you. You gulp with a dry mouth, fear crackling down your body. Storm caller chuckled, walking right up to the bars of the cage, his eyes never leaving you. The other orcs quickly parted to make way for their leader, letting the chief get the perfect view of his reward. "And who might you be, little one?"

Storm caller knew who you were. In fact, you were the exact Fae he had been searching for. But he loved the way you shifted under his gaze; he couldn't help himself. Your eyes raked over the orc, seeing his armour. His deep green skin was a stark contrast to the bloodied metal.

"I'm the Fae princess of Ellegard." Your words were small, barely a whisper, even though you tried to sound authoritative. The orc whistled to the guard, indicating for the cage to be opened, which the other orc followed suit swiftly. He stepped into the cage, towering over you with his huge figure, his smug smile hiding a bit of concern but never faltered from its sinisterness.

"A fae princess? My, my, how. Delicate." His deep voice made you gulp with a strange tingle in your gut, causing your wings to shiver slightly. His head tilted at the sight, his eyes darkening. "Stand."

You listened, standing tall on your shaky limbs. You were covered in dirt, even your wings stained with grime. His thick hand came up to gently brush along your appendage dusting off some of the muck, watching the sparkle move along his fingers as he did. "Such pretty things... it would be a shame if they were to break."

You gasp, taking a step back, almost falling, but his hand comes to grab your waist quickly, holding you up. "No, please. I can't live without my wings."

He smirked again as he heard your sweet little gasp. His hand tightens on your waist while the other continues to run along the veins of your sheer appendages. "I could easily rip them off you if I wanted to. You're at my mercy, little princess."

Your hand comes up to brush against his chest, feeling the cold metal under your small hand. A tear pricked the corner of your eye as you watched him with a pleading gaze while he continued to touch you. "P-please. Don't hurt me."

He pouted mockingly as he carefully wiped the tear away with his thumb. For an orc, he was extremely gentle—almost caring. "Awe, don't cry. I have no intention of hurting you. All you will be doing is proving yourself to me."

"P-proving?" You finally meet his gaze, staring deep into his pitch-black eyes. His smile grows as he nods, loosening his grip on you. He walks back over to the bars of the cage, running a finger along the rust.

"Yes, prove yourself. Prove that you're worthy of being my Cheiftess. That you're strong enough to be by my side and rule my clan with me." He turns back around with a determined look. An almost crazed gaze in his eyes.

You stare at him with shock, covering your mouth with your hand to mumble, "Chieftess!? You want to take me as a wife!"

He chuckled, a deep, guttural sound. "That's right. I've been looking for someone to be my wife, someone to rule beside me and bear my children. And you, little princess, have caught my eye."

You looked towards the locked door and noticed you were completely alone. All the orc guards had left you alone with him... You gulped, "But... you're an orc, and I'm a fae..." Your eyes briefly wander down to the cloth that hides his lower half. "We are of different sizes..."

He follows your gaze before letting out a low, amused laugh. "Ah, yes. The size difference. That doesn't matter, little one. I'm certain we can make it work."

You swayed a little from side to side, unsure of what to say. Or what to do. Your mind was all over the place, from the war only breaking out a moon ago to laying awake in a Dungeon, crying yourself to sleep while begging for death to take you away. You had no idea who had raided your home, only hearing whispers from others that the man was cruel and beastly. You still would have never thought it would be him. The beast of myth. The creature you read about in text. Jeong Yunho... the Storm caller. The great change.

Yunho was right next to you when you shook the fog from your eyes. He was so close to the point that you could feel the heat of his body once again. His voice dropped to a low, sultry tone. "Are you afraid, princess? Afraid of what I might do to you? Or what I might make you do?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering, "I... I don't know."

He chuckles, his hand reaching up to gently caress your cheek. "Well, I'm gonna take that as a yes. So don't worry, you're pretty little head. I'm gonna take good care of you." His touch was so gentle, so comfortable. You couldn't help but feel completely conflicted by his actions and his words. Never in your life would you ever think someone would speak so softly towards you. Calling you such sweet names. Actually look at you instead of through you... And it also happened to be by enemy number one.

From the destruction of your home and the increasing number of orcs that would outweigh your species. Deep down, you knew there was no other choice than to play along until you could escape and find your family. So you nod slowly to him, accepting his offer.

He smiles, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, gently tilting your head up to look at him. "Good girl. You're a fast learner. I like that. Now, let's get you out of this cage, shall we?"

You nod again, choosing to stay silent for the moment. He simply grins, his eyes glistening with a mix of lust and excitement as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a key. He moves from your body to unlock the cage door before reaching his hand out for you to take. "You're mine now, princess, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."

You yelp as he grabs your wrist, pulling you snugly against him. The grip was firm but not painful. There was tenderness hidden beneath. "Now, let's get you cleaned up. You're a mess, princess."

You follow him close, eyeing where everything is. Fires burning, tents set up everywhere. Your home was as good as gone. And you didn't know how to feel about it. Anger? Joy? The looming question was if your parents—the king and queen—were even still alive. He led you through the back end of the camp, his hands still wrapped around your wrist as he guided you into a huge tent. He pushes the flap aside as he leads you inside, the interior of the tent dimly lit by a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

The tent is spacious, with a large couch-like bed on the left side with a few chairs and tables scattered around the edge. There was also a small fire pit in the middle of the tent, and a few animal pelts laid out on the floor around it. "Welcome to my quarters, princess. You'll be staying here for now until we can go home."

"Home..." You whispered with a gulp as you held your stomach. The large orc noticed your nervous expression. He gave you a gentle, toothy smile, eyes raking over your shaky body.

"You look scared, princess. Don't worry, I won't bite," he leans down to whisper in your ear, "much."

Your eyes widen as you look around the room, slowly trying to free your hands from his tight grip. Panic suddenly set in. The sudden need to run was becoming increasingly prominent.

He noticed you trying to free your hands, so he tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him. "Ah ah ah, no escaping, princess. You're mine now, remember? You can't go anywhere without my permission."

You felt a nerve snap. "Yes, I'm aware of that." You speak bluntly. "I just wish to have my hands free." You look at him with a squinted expression, annoyance lingering in your tone. "I will not flee. I promise."

He eyes you for a moment, studying your face before finally relentingly, releasing your wrists. "Very well, princess. But remember, you're still my prisoner. You do as I say when I say it. Understood?"

You rub your red-pained wrists as you sigh, "I understand."

He smiles, satisfied with your response. Walking over to a large chest, he opens it to pull out a simple sheer sleep-like dress. "Put this on. It'll be more comfortable than those filthy rags you're wearing."

You gaze upon the fabric he's holding, taking it slowly from him. The silk was soft, almost like royal Elvin. It was only when you held it against your frame that you noticed. This is mine!? Your eyes widened, snapping back up to see his smug face, almost as if he had read your mind. No words were exchanged, though, only longing looks and thickening tension. That was until you spoke softly, "C-could you... Turn around while I change."

Yunho simply raised a brow at your request. He eyes your figure one last time before complying with your words, turning around with arms tightly crossed. "There, happy now, Princess?"

You couldn't help but sigh lightly, feeling like you could breathe again. No longer under his strong gaze. "Yes, I am." It was a quick response, but he could hear the sweetness in your tone, making him aware there was a smile on your delicate features.

Staring at his armour-covered back, you can finally take in the detail on the metal. The flower design on the outer lining. The cloth wrapped around his waist was thick leather, most likely the skin of a dragon. You had an expectation in your head from the books, but actually seeing him in person was a different story. You couldn't seem to shake the tingle in your gut the moment you saw him. Confliction raiding your mind. A part of your brain was overjoyed; he was the one who captured you, and the other was screaming that orcs are nothing but beasts. You could hear your mother screaming at you, calling you tainted for even thinking such a beast could be an equal to your own species.

But then again, no one was equal to Fae. She hated other creatures, considering all of them as slaves or peasants. Your father would even strike you if you ever tried to suggest otherwise. But your feelings did not matter. The longing did not matter. Nothing did. Only your parents mattered. Only the kingdom mattered. You had a duty, and you had to follow it. Otherwise, you are unclean.

Yunho's low chuckle caught you out of your thoughts—that you hadn't even noticed you slipped into. His head shook, still facing away from you. "You're a shy princess. I have to admit it's adorable. But you need to hurry up, little one. I don't have a lot of time."

You sporadically look around the room in search of the exit. Once spotting it, without another thought, you jump into flight, weaving towards it. But as you reached for the slit in the tent, Yunho turned around just in time to see what you had planned. Surprise painted his expression as he lunged forward, grabbing you by the waist before rotating you so he could hold you flush against his chest.

"Oh no, you don't, princess. You're not going anywhere." His voice was right in your ear as you thrashed against him, flapping your wings with all the strength you could muster.

He grins, clearly enjoying your attempts to escape. Holding you tightly against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vice grip. But from the powerful wind of your wings, he lost his balance, falling back onto the couch with a grunt. "Stop struggling, princess. You're only making it harder for yourself."

You didn't listen; your body beginning to panic, but not because of being held by him. Your whole life had crumbled in one night. You felt guilty and refused to admit that you were happy about it. You try to wiggle off him, your hand hitting his armour. Your legs fell on either side of his waist, making you fall more snugly against him. He let out a low growl, feeling you rub against him in a way that sends shivers down his spine. He tightens his grip on you even more, his hands roaming over your body, finding the base of your wings. "I said, stop struggling, little one. You're only making this more fun for me."

Your wings had stopped their flapping, but your hips continued to buck. He let out a sharp gasp, his head tilting back slightly, feeling your little frame struggle against him. Your clothed pussy was rubbing against his growing cock so nicely, he couldn't help himself from feeling more and more aroused with each passing breath. "Oh, princess... you're playing with fire now."

He used the hand that was at the base of your wings to snake up to grab a fist full of your hair, tugging you back, forcing you to look up at him. "You're feisty, you know that."

There was rage clouding your judgement, all the pent-up aggression you had bottled up for years, finally overspilling, but you were yelling at the wrong person, "I will never listen! Never submit. I didn't ask for any of this!" You finally settled, but only to hit him against his metal-covered chest.

"I have had people try to mould me into their perfect tool. But they had all failed. I will never listen." You hit him again, your knuckles starting to redden. "I'm not your perfect little daughter. I will never be pure enough for you." Tears rolled down your red, flustered cheeks, your knuckles bloody and bruised. You finally stopped, sobbing quietly while your forehead fell against his chest.

His expression becomes unreadable as he watches your little outburst. He had been told by one of his informants that you were being abused by your family, but he didn't expect you to be so...broken. He couldn't help but feel the desire to slaughter everyone who had hurt you. His grip on your hair loosened. "You do not have to be perfect for me..." He lifted up your face to wipe your tears as he said your name for the first time tonight.

Your face was inches from his, and you hadn't realised until the cool breeze brushed over your shoulder that while struggling, one of his claws must have torn the strap to your shirt, exposing your soft skin slightly. "Looks like your clothes are getting a little torn up, princess. I guess I got a little too rough with you during our struggle."

You blushed, looking away from him. "Then unhand me." Even though you tried to speak firmly, you no longer made an effort to move, feeling like all your adrenaline had washed away. You had become vulnerable in front of the enemy... Maybe your mother was right. You were simply just useless.

He gave out a lowly chuckle, fully loosening his grip on you. His hand rested on your hip while the other ran a finger along your exposed flesh. "And why should I, baby? I think I quite like having you in my arms."

"You cannot hold me in your arms forever." You huff, placing both my hands on his strong chest, moving to sit completely straight, staring up at him.

"Maybe not forever, but for now, I shall hold you. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of it." He smirks as he pulls you closer to him. You lean back in annoyance, taking in his whole demeanour. Your arms cross over your chest, pushing your breasts up, making more cleavage pop out the top of your rags. You notice his eyes flicker down to your chest, lingering on the plump flesh for a moment before snapping his stare back up to your face. "You poor sweet thing. Why would anyone ever want to hurt you..."

You were stunned by his words, feeling your heart race at his softness. Noticing your shocked silence, Yunho had to smile brightly, his tusks being shown off proudly in the grin. "You are too cute. And I bet you'd look even cuter under me."

You growled, almost sounding like an angry cat at his inappropriate remark. You couldn't lie to yourself though, knowing just how much his words affected you. But he didn't need to know that. He chuckled nonetheless, clearly amused by the noise that left your lips. He had to stroke your hair, which was surprisingly gentle as he whispered, "You're even cute when you're angry, princess."

You go to move off him again, feeling his hands loose on your frame, but when you shifted you felt your lower half rub against his half-hard cock, making you suddenly deathly aware of the situation you had gotten yourself into. You froze. "..I..."

Yunho let out a deep grumble, bucking his hips lightly while his hands tightened once again on your hips, stilling you. "You're playing with fire again. Keep doing that, and I won't be able to control what happens next."

Your gaze flutters towards what lies beneath you, seeing the large outline under the cloth and leather he is wearing. He's huge... You gulp. The orc seemingly noticed your eyes travel down, making him smirk with pride. "See something you like, Princess?" He taunts.

Snapping your head back up, you look around the room with brightened red cheeks, trying to calm your racing heart rate. "N-no..."

He growled, his smirk growing wider. "You're a terrible liar. The look on your face says everything. You were staring at my cock, weren't you, princess?"

You stutter, feeling yourself wanting to crumble into a ball and hide forever. "I don't know what you are talking about..."

Yunho grabs your chin, forcing you to look back at him. His deep, almost pitch-black eyes bore holes into your own as he read your expression. You couldn't help but clench around nothing, a pulse shifting through your cunt. He could feel every movement, making him groan while his cock twitched in response. He had to pull you closer, his hand exploring your figure. "By the gods, you drive me crazy, princess."

"Good." You poke your tongue out like some child throwing a tantrum. But Yunho was quick, snatching your tongue between his fingers. He gripped your wet appendage firmly but not too painfully.

"Careful now. You've been testing my patience all night. If you keep this up, I will punish you, darling." Your eyes widen at his action, your body shaking at the new nickname. Your mouth has to open more as his thumb pushes against your tongue, watching it create a bundle of saliva which started to leak out onto your chin and his hand. His eyes hollow with growing desire as he stares at the drool, watching it drip onto your lap. "You look so pretty like this, princess. All messy and helpless. I could do anything I want to you right now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Your wings flap in annoyance as a high-pitched noise leaves your throat. His grip on your tongue tightens slightly as he mocks, "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. You brought this on yourself. You were being a brat, and now you're paying the price."

You let out a huff through your nose, mimicking the way Orc's huff when they are displeased. That made Yunho raise his brow, but then you ground your hips against him, causing his fingers to loosen on your tongue. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and lust in his eyes, watching you pull away from his grip. "Fuck you have no idea how badly I want to lose control."

It was like the world had stopped, like nothing mattered anymore. And for the first time, the power was in your hands. You weren't a doll to be dressed up and manipulated by others. You weren't a toy to be thrown around and forgotten the next. You had power and wanted to see what you could do with it. "If you want to lose control so badly, Why don't you?"

His grunt was animalistic, rumbling up his throat, his eyes narrowing even more at the challenge you gifted him. "You're asking for it, darling. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Before you could let out any snarky reply, the large orc tipped you back until you were both falling towards the floor. He held onto you tightly, his one hand bracing your head while the other held your waist, easily manhandling you onto the soft pelts that lay spread on the floor by the fire. A small 'oof' left your lips as you watched Yunho above you with pure surprise. His grin was toothy, his huge frame caging you snuggly. "You look so good like this, darling. Laying here, at my mercy. You have no idea what thoughts are running through my mind right now."

You rolled your eyes without a thought, wiggling slightly with a small pout. This caused him to chuckle, using one of his hands to grip your chin again, but this time squishing your cheeks together. "Oh, you think you're so tough, princess? Trying to act like you're not enjoying yourself right now. But I know deep down. This is all you've ever wanted. Like you said, you'll never be pure for your family. For your kingdom. So why not just fully commit to it?"

You gulp, feeling your pointed ears redden as your gaze never left his. He was right. You both knew it. You had dreams of being swept away. Having the saviour come to rescue you from your royal prison. But a part of you—the part that still is her family's little princess—wanted to stay, prove you were pure enough. Make your family proud. It was pitiful, really.

"Come on, darling? I can see the effect I have on you. Your ears and face, are all red and flushed. Your hips are bucking at every movement. The staggered pants and lust-filled eyes. You're enjoying this. You like being pinned down by a big, strong orc like me."

You shook your head no, and you don't even know why. Stop fighting, you screamed to yourself. Your parents never loved you. No one ever looked at you. But Yunho...he was looking at you and not just as a prize to be won or a trophy to be left on a stand. He looked at you like you were real. Like you deserved attention. Like you were the only thing left in this god-forsaken realm.

His expression was unreadable again, his hand moving from your chin to your hair, stroking the strands gently with a sigh. "You're a terrible liar. Must I repeat that? I can see right through you. Why must you be too stubborn to admit it?"

"I..." You stop yourself, watching his gaze never leave your own. His hand that sat on your waist, moved delicately upwards, slowly sliding along your body, feeling the tattered rags beneath the pads of his fingers.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I just need a yes, and I can make anything you've ever dreamt of come true. You're mine now, and I'm gonna make sure you never forget." Your whole body was shaking as he continued to move his hand along your figure. His touch is gentle but possessive at the same time.

"P-please..." You whisper, your eyes fluttering closed, your body giving in to temptation. He moves his mouth to your neck, his breath tickling your skin, but he doesn't inch closer.

"That's not a yes, darling." He grunts, his other hand moving from your hip to your thigh, pushing them open gently, holding you in place as he continues to explore your body. He watches the way your brows scrunch and your eye seal shut. The way your hips beg for friction and your mouth parts, desperate for another. But he still needed to hear you say it. He needs that single word to leave your lips.

A long, deep sigh left your lungs, but no matter how hard you tried, the word you needed didn't come out. It was like someone had held your mouth closed or taken the word from your vocabulary. And then you had an idea. Opening your eyes, you are met with Yunho's soft gaze. Storm caller was gone from his expression, leaving only him. "...Mok..." [yes]

Yunho froze, staring down at you with narrowed eyes. He couldn't believe what he had heard. You...his delicate little fae, speaking Orcish. He smiled toothly, closing the gap between his lips, latching his tongue on the hot skin of your neck. He kissed and nibbled at your jugular, his hand on your thigh gently stroking the soft skin. You spread your legs without much control, feeling yourself finally relax under him. He chuckles, his hand moving to rest on the inside of your thigh, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin that was close to your dripping core. "That's it, Darling. Open up for me. Let me see all of you."

He takes in the way your body finally relaxes, seeing all your defences slowly wash away. His lips travel along your collarbone, where he starts to place kisses and gentle nibbles, feeling the way your body reacts to his touch. Your eyes are completely shut now while your hands unclenched from being fists. Your legs spread further, feeling the cloth that was covering your lower half now riding up your figure ever so slightly. His hand moved higher up your thigh, his fingers tracing along the hem of the fabric covering you, teasing the cotton. He pulls back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body as he takes in the sight of you spread out beneath him.

"You never need to have fear ever again..." He whispers against your skin, hearing you moan as his hand moves even higher up your plump flesh, his fingers brushing against the edge of your panties. "...Bin mog g'thazag cha.." [I will protect you.]

You felt tears run down your face as you heard his sweet words in his native tongue. The feeling of his fingers on your clothed cunt makes your hips buck and a whimper to leave your trembling mouth. He watches as your hips buck and you let out a whimper, his eyes darkening with desire. He leans down to whisper in your ear again, "So responsive, Darling. You're so sensitive. I can feel how much you want me, even through your wet panties." You feel him pull your panties to the side seeing your soaked pussy in his full. He swore he almost busted a nut right then and there. He couldn't feel but have a satisfying smirk on his face as he took you all in, "Look at that, Baby. You're so wet for me. Do you need me to touch you?"

You whimper at the cool air hitting your cunt feeling the need for more. Your hips bucking as you finally open your eyes to look up at him pleadingly, "P-please Yunho..."

He grins triumphantly, his hand moving to gently stroke your pussy, cupping it entirely. "So you do know my name, Darling..." He continues to stroke you, bringing his pointer finger to your clit, moving in slow teasing circles. "You're gonna moan my name so beautifully. I love hearing the sounds you make when I touch you. It's like music to my ears."

"Please more, Yunho." You admit.

He chuckles, his fingers moving faster as he gives you what you want. "That's a good girl, begging for more. I love seeing you like this, all needy and desperate for me. I'lI give you more, don't worry. I'lI give you everything you need and more."

You nod at his words, grinding your hips against his fingers, feeling yourself creep closer to your climax. He watched in awe, as he let out a grunt, "That's it, Darling. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Let yourself feel the pleasure. You're so close, I can feel it. Just a little bit more, and you'll come for me. Take all of it. All this pleasure is yours to take."

It didn't take long for all your pent-up emotions to come breaking through the gates, tipping you over the edge, as you come against your big orcs fingers. "Fuck..."

"That's it. Such a good girl. I knew you could do it. You're such a good girl when you listen to me." He chuckles as he pulls his hand away, watching a string of your juices soaking his fingers, even some of it leaking out onto the pelt below you. Yunho's eyes roll back as he takes his fingers inside his mouth tasting the sweetness that is you, all the while you stare in disbelief having never seen such a hot sight. "You liked that, didn't you, little one? Seeing me lick your slick off my fingers. You like seeing me taste you. You like knowing that you're mine, and can do whatever I want to you? Hmm?"

You nod a little too quickly but you couldn't care anymore. "Yes..." It was suddenly like your tongue was loosened and all the words you've kept deep inside were suddenly spilling out, "And to answer you before, I've known who you are for a long time. heard the stories of the orc who raids villages. I.. I admire you. and I felt ashamed to be a fae in love with an orc. But all the good you did. All the species you had saved, it was hard not to fall." You felt your face redden as you noticed what you had just said, all your secrets had been let out to dry. You let out a whine, covering your face with your hands. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

Yunho was taken aback for a moment, before a smirk formed on his face, grabbing your wrists with a deep chestful giggle. "You've known who I am for a long time, huh? And you've been in love with me? That's quite a confession princess. I never thought a Fae would be interested in an Orc like me. But I have to admit, it's nice to hear you say that."

You sucked in a breath, watching every detail and expression on his face, "You're a war hero. I don't care if you're an orc... In fact, I love that you are." You felt a little self-conscious speaking about such things, but Yunho had made you feel like it was okay to open up.

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and pride, enjoying the way his ego was being stroked by you, "A war hero, huh? You really know how to flatter a guy. I never thought I'd hear those words from a Fae, let alone one who's in love with me. It's nice to be appreciated for my accomplishments and not just for my strength and brutality. So thank you, my darling."

You sat up slowly, watching as he followed your every move until he was on his knees. You finally take him all in, "I'm sorry for trying to run away before, I was..." You felt tears creep down your cheeks as you hiccuped, "I was so scared.... what my village would think of me. What would the Fae King and Queen... my parents would say. T-they hate orcs."

Yunho reaches out to gently wipe the tears from your puffy face. "Hey, it's okay. I understand why you were scared, little one. It's not easy to go against your family's beliefs and expectations. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. I won't let anyone hurt you, especially not your parents. You're mine now, and I'll protect you no matter what."

"You promise?" You hiccuped.

He nods, his expression serious but soft, "I promise, my love. I swear on my honour as an Orc that I will protect you and keep you safe. You're under my protection now, and no one will lay a hand on you without going through me first."

You reach for him, your hands snaking around his neck. Yunho let you guide him into a tender kiss. He was caught off guard for only a moment but quickly recovered as he wrapped his arms around your small figure, pulling you flush against his chest.

He kisses you back fiercely, his tongue dominating your mouth as he claims you as his own. You drop a hand to the knotted leather against his shoulder, untying the straps of his armour. He helps to get the chest plate and any other metal off his deep green body. Pulling away for a moment, you could finally see all the scars and blemishes on him, knowing each wound held a story. Without a second thought, your hands found the cloth around his waist, letting the fabric fall off his pelvis, freeing his angrily hard cock. He looks down at you with a mixture of desire and amusement grabbing his cock to squeeze it firmly, "Eager, are we, Darling? You can't wait to see what I'm packing, huh?"

You stutter, bring your hands to your sides as your wings shiver in anticipation. "Y-yes..." You admit.

"You're so cute when you blush, Darling. And those wings of yours are trembling with excitement. You're practically begging for it, aren't you? My precious little Fae."

You gulp, but instead of verbally responding, you decide to untangle the bow that laid on your shoulder, letting the rags fall off your figure before throwing the cloth somewhere in the room. Yunho watched with a bitten lip as his gaze darkened with lust, getting a full view of your pretty plump breasts and your dripping cunt.

"Fuck, princess. You look so beautiful like this. Spread out for me, completely bare and ready for me to take. You're certainly a sight to behold." He moves closer to you, positioning himself between your legs, his thick thighs only barely fitting. Your eyes had fogged over with a new form of adrenaline, shaking in anticipation over the idea of having him deep inside you. He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your tight hole. You both took a large breath as he slowly began to ease inside you, watching as every inch of his cock sunk deeper and deeper. The burn sent your mind into a tailspin as you dropped your head back onto the soft fur below you. Most fae men were tiny and did not pack enough length or girth, but orcs, they were huge in every possible way.

"Oh, love, you're so tight. I can feel your pretty little pussy clenching so much." He chuckles at your gasp, watching your face contort in a painful pleasure. He enjoyed the feeling of your tightness around his cock. He slowly starts to push into you more and more, taking his time to make sure you can handle his size. Your screams grew louder as you basked in the feeling of him. Yunho couldn't help but groan in response to your lushish noises, feeling them fuel his own desire to keep going. "That's it, darling. Let me hear you scream. You feel so good around me. You're taking me so well, like a good girl."

He continues to push into you, his cock stretching you wider and wider until he finally bottoms out inside you, his cock buried to the hilt. He lets out a low growl of satisfaction, "You're taking all of me, baby. You're so full of me, aren't you? You're stretched around my cock like a perfect little cock sleeve."

You nod panting through your bitten lip as you stare up at him with watery eyes, "s-so full."

He smirks at your response enjoying the way you're reacting to his size, "You like being full, baby? You like feeling me stretching you out. Fill you up? You're such a good girl, taking my cock like this. I bet you'll be even more perfect when I start to move, huh?"

"Yes, Please. More. I need more." You confess, your voice raised over several octaves as your nails scrape along the pelts.

He grins at your pleading, "Oh, my love, you're so eager. You want me to start moving, huh? You want me to pound into you and make you scream my name?"

You whimper, bucking your hips against him while your hands move up to grab your thighs, holding them up so you are spread further for him to take you deeper. He growled, beginning to move, slowly at first, but then gradually picking up speed. He starts to thrust into you with a steady rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. Your screams of his name are like a broken record, and you feel like you're already coming apart.

Yunho grumbles in response. His pace picks up as he senses that you're approaching the edge. "That's it, Darling. Scream my name. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good. I can feel you getting close. Are you going to come for me again, baby?"

Tears stained your puffy red cheeks as he picked you up, holding you tight around your waist. With his brute strength, he fucked up into you at a deeper angle causing you to let out a yelp, "Yes! I'm gonna come. I want to come around your huge cock!!"

"Good girl. You can come, baby. Come for me, let go and give in to the pleasure. I want to feel you clenching around me as you come undone." He barked as he watched with narrow eyes as your wings fluttered and flapped like crazy. He placed his large palm on your back, holding you close, letting you fall into the crook of his neck, nuzzling against him. You scream his name for a final time before coming, squirting all over his cock and the floor below. He groans as you come, feeling your walls clench around him chokingly. But he continues his harsh thrusts, riding out your orgasm to prolong your pleasure.

He let you back down onto the pelts below, taking in every detail of your shaking figure. From your fluttering wings to the way your pussy kept sucking him in. "You're so beautiful when you come, you know. I can feel you squirting all over me, soaking the fur. You're a mess, but you're my mess now, darling."

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. My mess. You couldn't help but giggle lightly at the thought. You had always been a mess, a disappointment, and unwanted. But in this moment, you were more than happy to be defined as 'a mess' as long as it was solely his.

"Your mess..." You spoke with a battered breath.

Yunho smiles back at you, his expression, possessive and proud, "That's right. You're mine. You belong to me now, and I'm never letting you go. You're my mess to play with and claim whenever I want." He leaned down to kiss your cheek delicately.

"Then claim me, Yunho...C-cum inside me." You hiccup as he shifts, making you feel every bump and vein of his cock inside your overstimulated pussy.

"So eager to please me, to be mine. It's adorable. But I think you've had enough for now. I don't want to break you just yet." He chuckled, slowly pulling out of you. But without another thought, you follow his movements. Using your wings, you push yourself into his arms, making him fall onto his back, letting you straddle him.

You can feel his cock resting against your ass, grinding gently on his pelvis, you whimper, "I want you to come to Yunho. I want to feel you come inside me."

Yunho was caught off by your confession. His parted lips quickly turned into a sly smirk as he clearly enjoyed the way you were begging for him. As if you couldn't get any more perfect, you one up yourself. "You want my cum, my love? You want me to fill you up and claim you from the inside out?"

You nod, making him groan as his cock twitched against you. His hands find your hips as he picks you up effortlessly. He rotates you until you are on all fours on the pelts, and your head is facing the fire pit. "I want to make you come one more time, and then I'll give you what you want. Got it?"

You feel like your body is already growing weaker by the second but you sigh at an 'okay' while you wiggle your hips, letting him sink back inside your abused pussy from behind. He thrusts pick back up, harshly snapping his hips into you. Yunho reaches down and starts to rub your clit with his thumb, adding extra stimulation to bring you closer to the edge. "You're doing so well, baby. Just a little bit more, and you'll come again for me. I can feel you getting close again. Just let go and let yourself feel the pleasure."

Your climax came quicker than the previous, your screams were stripped from a sore throat as you tipped over the edge clamping around his large cock while you drug your nails into the soft pelts. Yunho could feel his own orgasm approaching, but he held back, wanting to savour the feeling of you coming undone around him once more. He knew he would never get over the feeling of you clenching around him, and it was going to quickly become one of his favourite things in the world. "Your body is so responsive, so eager to please me. I'm going to fill you up now, my love. I'm going to claim you and make you mine forever."

The mixture of the flame from the fire and the heat shivering down your body made you hot to the touch, and with a few more hard snaps of Yunho's hips, he finally reached his own climax. He lets out a low growl that is almost animalistic as he comes, his sticky load spilling deep inside your cunt. He keeps his cock buried inside you as he rides out his orgasm, making sure to fill you up entirely while he gazes at you. Laid out flat on the floor with a heaving chest. You were completely fucked out of my mind, sweaty and content. A smile plastered on your face, you whispered. "Thank you."

You had no real reason as to why you said those words, but in your heart made you feel like they needed to be said. Thank you for saving me. You thought. Thank you for being the hero the world needs. Thank you for keeping hope alive. Your mind wandered for the right words, but thank you was all that had come out in the end.

Yunho pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt you, but before he could say anything, he noticed you had fallen straight asleep. Your little snores make his heart swell. So he got to work, grabbing the sheets from the nearby bed before lying down next to you, wrapping his arms around your figure tightly so he could pull you close. His nose nuzzled in your messy and tangled hair as he whispered to you, "You belong to me now and I, you. Once we are home, we will be married. And you will finally have the freedom to do whatever your heart wishes."

He felt a twinge in his heart at the possibility of your parents trying to take you back, but he would gladly kill them before they would ever land another finger on you. He knows he's claimed you now, and he'll make sure everyone knows it, too, especially your filthy parents. You're his, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. Protected and loved.

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

Note

headcanon request: how would the jjk guys react if someone's trying to flirt with them but they're already in a relationship with their s/o?

YES i love some light jealousy teehee ___

GOJO SATORU

has no chill if someone's flirting with him. or worse, he thinks someone's flirting with him, but they're just taking his order, or letting him know his shoe is untied.

he's literally "I'M MARRIED"

(for the untied shoe one, he definitely trips when he runs off)

he's so annoying abt it fr. always throwing "i have a wife" (even long before you're married) around even when unnecessary

and ppl do flirt with him, he's gojo, but sometimes... he's just a lot.

even if someone looks at him too long, he's wrapping his arm around you and loudly announcing "in front of my wife? you're lucky i'm holding her back!"

and you're just standing there bewildered with the box of cereal you were about to toss into the cart and wondering who the hell he's talking to- and when the hell did he propose??

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

for the most part he doesn't really notice when someone's flirting with him. i think it would take some very obvious hints.

so say someone is really trying to get him to catch on, pulling all the stops- fluttering eyelashes, unnecessary touching, one too many comments about his eyes, and finally, slipping a piece of paper into his hand with their phone number.

megumi can accidentally be a little cold.

he scowls at the phone number before crumpling the paper and dropping it.

"i don't want that," he's completely expressionless when he speaks, and honestly, the flirt-er is lucky he said anything at all rather than straight up walking away. "i have a girlfriend"

and then he walks away.

and when he meets up with you again he's a little more affectionate than usual, holding you a little longer, pulling you closer when you settle on the couch or bed or wherever, kissing you a few extra times for good measure.

don't get him wrong, it's not out of guilt or anything. he just wants you to know that he thinks of you when you're apart, and that he appreciates and loves you to death. nothing could ever change that.

ITADORI YUUJI

i don't often add him to my brainrot posts but i SHOULD and i had the most brilliant thought for him specifically

if he's getting hit on, he'll shut it down casually enough, and just blatantly tell them they're not his type.

and then he'll just start listing everything about you. and lover boy is BABBLING ok, no one could shut him up

he's describing your hair your eyes your nose your hands your style- and once he gets thru the physical stuff, it gets random

he's talking about your hobbies, your weird interests or collections, how sometimes you're a bad driver but you try your best lmfao he gets on such a tangent i don't think he'd even realize his tactic for defusing the flirting is just confusing the other person to the point of no longer wanting to give him their number

and once he's done with his dreamy little speech, he just goes "like my partner!!" all excited and bubbly

he's always rushing off to meet up with you then, having got himself so eager to be around you some more

OKKOTSU YUUTA

he's polite, but firm. he can also be a little quick to say he's taken, but it's only because he wants to let people down easy!

he's very kind when urning down phone numbers or flirty advances, always giving a gentle smile and saying no thank you, or actually i have a girlfriend. and he never apologizes when he says the second one, but that doesn't mean he's cruel! he's just thoughtful and respectful of you!

yuuta's a total gentleman.

but. god forbid. if he gets one of those nasty ppl that pull the "your girlfriend doesn't have to know" bullshit. oh boy. he does not handle that well.

toxic!yuuta jumps out a little!!

for as polite as he can be, he can get nasty when provoked just right, and someone disrespecting you? his beloved?

first it's a lecture- how dare you suggest such a thing? do you often try to break up people's perfect love lives?

then it's standing up for your honor- do you know how wonderful and lovely my partner is? you couldn't even understand the lengths that their radiance extends to. this part usually gets a little messy. he can get carried away when talking about you.

and lastly, he gets personal. deeply. personal. if they're having a not-so-great hair day, or if their attempts at slipping him their number were particularly weak, he's pouncing on that. he sniffs out weakness like a goddamn Chivalrous Boyfriend Bloodhound and sinking his claws in. i think yuuta could be really mean if he wanted to.

but that's kinda hot tho

INUMAKI TOGE

definitely the funniest of all of them. bcuz if he's getting hit on, he kinda just... stands there.

._.

CAUSE HE LITERALLY CANT SAY ANYTHING ???

sure, he could play it off like he doesn't understand what they're saying, or even type a little note in his phone saying he has a partner... but...

toge definitely prefers to stand there, completely blank faced, and stretch out the discomfort as long as possible.

sometimes people just scowl and walk away, finding it rude

one time tho someone actually started tearing up and completely ran away

(you came back just as it happened, an ice cream cone in each hand and a confused look on your face. but there's no way your sweet, mute boyfriend made a person cry, right?)

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ofstarsandvibranium · 7 months ago

Text

Precious Truths: Part I

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.

Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.

After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.

She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.

Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.

"Maybe some day," you'd always say.

What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.

You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.

But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.

_______________________

The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "

You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.

"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."

People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.

You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"

"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.

You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."

Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."

You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."

You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."

"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."

You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."

"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.

"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.

"Very much so, I'm afraid."

Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.

The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."

"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.

You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.

_____________________

"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.

"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."

"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.

"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."

Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"

Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."

Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."

Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."

Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."

Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."

_________________________

"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.

You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."

"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."

You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"

"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."

You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."

Kate shrugs, "As you wish."

Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.

"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."

He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton imagine #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months ago

Text

cupboard door w/ choi san

words - when do i ever know the word count…

genre - smut/fluff

warnings - dom!san, making out, fingering, big cock san, cockwarming (kind of at the end), unprotected sex, i think that’s it 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

——————————————————————————

your eyesight goes blurry, just for a second or two. it makes your head spin and you can’t help but take a few stumbling steps backwards, away from the open cupboard door. the pain of the whole ordeal is pretty slow to kick in, and for just a moment you’re not even sure if it will. but just as quickly as that thought comes to mind, it’s there, splitting and harsh as it shoots through your skull. you groan as your hands fly up to cup at your forehead, catching the attention of the other resident of the flat.

“shit,” you hear movement from the living room; the sound of a game pausing on the playstation followed by someone scrambling to their feet. the thud of his feet hitting the floorboards is loud as he rushes towards you, moving quicker than you think you’ve ever heard the gentle giant move before. “what happened?” he sounds concerned, “what did you do?”

warm hands grab your face and tilt it up until all you can see is him; san. he’s pretty, even when his expression is scrunched up into one of concern. it’s strange, you note, for someone so carefree, it’s hardly taken anything for him to fall into a panic. you’ve seen him calmer than this in much more stressful situations, so why now is he holding you in his hands like some fractured vase that could shatter at any moment? you’re sure it’s nothing; at least that’s what you tell yourself to stop your heart from jumping to any conclusions.

“you left the cupboard door open,” a habit of his that you’ve been trying to work him out of since the first day the two of you moved in with one another, “and i wasn’t paying attention and walked into it,” just like your clumsiness is something that he’s been trying to cure you of. not too long ago you asked him why he cared so much about your susceptibility to bruises; he answered with ‘i worry about you,’ which you could only assume was a joke.

san hums, letting your face slip from his gentle hands. they fall back to his sides and it’s only now that you realise just how close he’s standing. a sigh tumbles from his lips and you feel it on your face, his chest rises as he pulls in a deep breath and it brushes every so slightly against your own. if things were different, you could quite easily lean forward and press your lips to his own. it’s just a silly fantasy, but you can’t help but let the idea echo around your mind like a voice in a cavern.

if things were different, you could kiss him.

you could kiss him.

kiss hi—

“you’re such an idiot,” he purrs with something akin to affection in his voice. it doesn’t help calm your overactive thoughts at all, spurring them on until they’re frenzied and begging you to close the gap between your lips and his. it’s no surprise when you feel your face heat up and a shiver of electricity trail it’s way slowly up your spine. “i’m going to have to wrap you in bubble wrap one day, just to stop me from worrying every time i let you out of my sight.”

there it is again, that cruel joke that has every part of you tingling with glee. you want him to mean it; reminding yourself that he doesn’t hurts your heart far too much. it’s so much effort to recover from your mini-heartbreak quick enough for him to not notice anything wrong, and even more effort to think up some equally flirtatious joke that means so much more to you than it ever will to him. it’s tiring, unrequited love.

“i guess you’ll just have to keep me by your side forever, then,” a fake giggle leaves your lips, just realistic enough to keep him from thinking something is wrong. you want him to laugh too, to bask in this joke with you before going back to whatever he was doing and leaving you to wallow in the heartache of being so painfully close to the man you’ve been in love with since the very day you met him. you want him to rejoice in the thin veil of humour you’ve plastered over the top of your pain. you want him to not care enough to look into your eyes and see exactly what you’re so desperate to hide from him.

but he doesn’t laugh, and the smile that was already there slips from his expression like it wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place. have you said something wrong?

your own giggles come to a halt, the two of you being thrust into an abrupt silence. you watch his expression nervously, scanning for some sort of sign that everything is actually okay, but the way san holds his face is almost statuesque. if it weren’t for his slow blinks and hard gaze flitting around your face, you’d maybe think he was one.

“san?” you can’t raise your voice above a whisper, scared it might break. the sound still makes him flinch out of whatever trance he’d found himself in, and you’re grateful to see just the tiniest bit of life flicker across his expression once more. “san, have i said something wrong? i’m sorry if i offended you, i didn’t m—”

the words are cut off when a pair of lips come crashing down on your own. the speed of it all pulls a squeak from your throat, your shoulders tensing as san’s large hand snakes around the back of your skull to hold you in place. its not that you don’t want it, it’s just that it’s the very last thing you were expecting to come from hitting your head against an open cupboard door. fate works in mysterious ways, you suppose.

it only takes a moment before san is pulling away again, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he lazily blinks at you. there’s a fog covering his pupils, making him look as though he’s lost in a haze. you feel the very same way; dizzy and full of some sort of fuzzy warmth that now you’ve tasted it, you’re not sure you’ll be able to live without.

“sorry,” he whispers as he slips his hand away from the back of your head. he doesn’t look it, nor is his tone remorseful in any way, shape or form, but you don’t really care. you don’t need an apology, anyway; why would you when he’s just given you everything you never knew you needed? you’re on top of the world, right now, thoughts buzzing through your mind too fast to grab hold of one and focus on it. “i wasn’t thinking,” he adds, just as insincere as his apology.

you don’t really care about the insincerity of it all; you just want more.

“i don’t care,” you murmur as you lean in closer, just enough so that he can see your intentions. a wandering hand finds its way to his bicep, squeezing the oversized muscle once before inching its way up to his shoulder, and then his neck. your fingers tug at the short hairs at the nape of his neck as you stare into his eyes with need. if this doesn’t tell him that you want him to kiss you again then you don’t know what will. “i liked it,” you say for good measure.

a few seconds of silence pass you by, san’s vacant gaze flickering around your face as if to search for signs that you’re lying. that for some reason you’re being untruthful about the fact that you liked it. while yes, ‘liked it’ may be a bit of an understatement, it certainly wasn’t a lie. you’ll be replaying that barely-there kiss in your brain for years to come. it was short and weak, and yet it’s left your lips tingling with a desire for more. you need san’s lips on you more than you need air right now; you need him to kiss you again.

and while it takes a little longer than you would’ve liked, he seems to get the message, lips parting in a small smile before he leans down to close the gap. his lips barely brush against yours when they meet; you can’t help but chase them. the chuckle san lets out goes straight to your core, tightening a knot in your stomach that you didn’t even know had been tied. you need him. mind, body and soul, you need him. it’s not hard to tell him as such with a pleading whine against his lips, to which he responds by conceding—he presses his lips to yours once more.

just like that you’re in heaven, floating on a cloud as san gives you the kiss you crave so badly. it’s slow and meaningful, as if he’s been waiting to do this for almost as long as you’ve been waiting to receive it. if that is the case, you regret not showing him how much you need him sooner. it would’ve been so easy to drop a few hints here and there, to tempt him and tease him until eventually, he’d snap. you guess you got there in the long run, and you suppose the wait has made this kiss even sweeter; it doesn’t help quell the what-if’s that float around your brain like fallen cherry-blossoms atop a lake.

you dive in deeper, hoping that it will silence the questions you can’t help but ask yourself. as your lips move against his, breathless moans falling from them each time you part to suck in a much needed gasp of air, your thoughts shift to silence. a fog settles over your mind, blocking out anything that isn’t the complete and utter desire for san to do more. you want his hands all over you, touching and squeezing at every inch of skin you own. you want his arm around your waist, his tongue down your throat, his fingers in your pussy. your thighs squeeze together of their own accord; a desperate attempt to apply pressure to a clit aching with need.

“san,” you whisper as you pull away briefly. he follows your lips, barely letting his name slip out of them before they’re caught in a desperate whirlwind if want once more. it only last a few seconds before you pull away again, but it’s enough to send you into a dizzy stupor. “san,” you repeat his name, “touch me, please.”

another kiss, just as hot and heavy as the others, and equally as short as the last. before you know it he’s pulling away again so he can slip a hand between you to meet with the waistband of your sweats. your breath hitches in your throat as his warm fingers slip beneath the elasticated fabric, brushing against your stomach so softly that you barely feel it. it sends shivers through your body and you find yourself unable to stop your hips bucking forwards in a search for more. he chuckles again, but the humiliation that you should feel is nowhere to be found.

“you’re needy,” he purrs as he slips his hand south, bypassing the waistband of your panties and heading straight to your leaking core. no time is wasted before he’s tapping a finger against your clit, a high pitched keen echoing through the kitchen as he applies pressure to the bud. “i should’ve known, huh baby? you’ve always been this way,” he gives your clit one last kiss with his fingertip before pulling his hand completely free from your sweats.

“san,” you whine, to which he rolls his eyes in jest.

“give me a second, baby,” he grins as he wraps his hands around your waist and hoists you onto the counter behind you. it seems like it takes almost no effort at all for him; a thought that sends your already clouded mind into a frenzy. it makes you feel so small, so insignificant, like a human at the side of a god. if that’s the case then you’re more than prepared to be the head of his temple. you’ll worship him every day, if he lets you. you’ll give him your everything as an offering if he wants.

“san, please,” you pray. he listens with mercy, parting your legs and stepping between them until his pelvis slots against your own. he’s hard, you note as his cock rubs up against your clothed core—big too, it seems. you wonder how it’ll feel stuffed inside of you, dragging deliciously in and out of your dripping hole. it’s all you can think about as you connect your lips with his once more.

only this time you don’t pull away to say anything, or to take a breather. why would you when san already seems to understand exactly what you want? his hands are on you in seconds, tugging at the waistband of your sweats, lifting you up slightly to drag them under the curve of your ass, groping at your newly exposed flesh with hands heavy enough to bruise. the counter is cold against your skin but you can barely feel it amongst the trails of fire his fingertips leave against your skin. they burn you, etching invisible scars against you. you might not be able to see them, but you’ll know they’re there. you’ll feel san’s touch until the end of time.

“want me to touch you?” he growls against your lips, “want my fingers? i’m gonna need to stretch you out for my cock, sweet thing.”

you don’t answer straight away, simply delving in for another kiss. he’s more than happy to comply, devouring any answers that rest upon your tongue. when you pull away seconds later, he’s already panting like a dog.

“i want your cock,” you sigh, “need it inside of me, sannie.”

he chuckles as he trails his lips against your jawline.

“fingers first,” they shift to your core once more, one of them experimentally delving into your weeping core, “don’t want to hurt you.” he pushes it in to its hilt, bending it slightly in a way that rips every shred of lucidity from your mind for just a few seconds. every thought is just him; choi san, choi san, choi san. it’s louder than the moan you let out, your thoughts blocking it from your ears with ease. it’s only when san whispers, “that feel good?” into your ear that you sink back down to earth, nodding fervently in response. he smiles against your ear, teeth softly nipping at your earlobe before pulling back.

he tests the waters with a second finger, barely dipping the tip in before his eyes meet yours for confirmation. “please, sannie,” you whine, bucking your hips a little, “i want you inside of me.” it’s all it takes for him to finish pushing his fingers in, the stretch making your body melt. you’d never taken notice of how thick his fingers are until now, but as they drag against your walls it’s all you can focus on.

he works diligently, pumping them in and out at a fast pace to get you used to the stretch. every so often he pauses, scissoring them open and pushing them against your gummy walls. your whines become less coherent as he works, but he shushes each of them with a kiss, stealing your pretty sounds for himself.

“so noisy,” he breaks away with a grin as his fingers continue to open you up, “if the neighbours put in a noise complaint, i hope you know i’m not taking the fall for you.” if you weren’t drunk on lust, perhaps you would’ve given a snarky response, but as his fingers hammer away at your most sensitive spot, all you can do is take it.

“shut up,” you mewl as he moves in for another kiss, a mocking giggle on his lips.

“you first, baby.”

he draws his fingers from your pussy, wiping them on his shorts before moving to take hold of his waistband. you hold your breath as he pushes them down, his cock springing free and standing to attention. it looks bigger than it felt, and you almost feel nervous as you watch him give it a few pumps with his fist. the way his fingers only just connect around the circumference is daunting, and you can almost feel the ache of it inside of you already.

“can i?” he purrs as he taps the head gently against your folds. precum smears against them, mixing in with your own slick that drips from you like a faucet. you nod, silently begging for him to hurry up and fill the hole his fingers left within you. he hums disapprovingly, “your words, baby; give me your consent.”

words are hard when you’re so needy. “please, sannie,” comes out as a desperate whimper, and your cry of “i want you inside of me,” sounds utterly pathetic even to your own ears. it doesn’t really matter as long as you get what you want from him, and as he lines himself up with your waiting hole, you relax in the knowledge that are. you tip your head back against the recently closed cabinet door and stare him down with half lidded eyes, watching how his face shifts to pleasure as he slips just the tip in.

even that is thick enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, already feeling fuller than you did with his fingers despite having next to nothing inside of you. a hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting the skin as he slowly pushed forward. it burns a little as his cock bullies it’s way inside of you, stretching you open uncomfortably. it isn’t all pain, a wall of pleasure hiding behind the thin veil of pain; you can’t help but moan a little as his cock drags deliciously along your sensitive walls.

“sannie,” you whimper as his tip brushes up against your cervix and causes you to flinch. part of him is still unsheathed, but he halts before he can even try to fit it in. there’s a look of understanding in his eyes as he leans in to press his lips against your forehead and you know that you’re safe with him.

“is it okay?” he murmurs between pressing small kisses to your face, “does it hurt?” you find yourself whispering an affirmative. san pulls back just enough for him to study your face. “too much?” absolutely not, “i can pull out and make you cum a different way, if that’s what you want?”

“no,” you whine, saddened at just the thought of losing that feeling of fullness, “i just need to get used to it. you’re fucking huge, sannie.”

he giggles at that comment, a blush making its way up to his ears. you’ve seen a similar look on his face when the two of you have been drinking, though you suppose right now he’s equally as drunk, just on you as oppose to alcohol. it’s cute, and if it weren’t for the fact that you want to get fucked sometime soon, you’d be more than happy to just sit here and watch him.

“i’ve seen bigger,” he shrugs humbly as his face gets pinker; he looks so pretty with a dusting of salmon across his nose, “but if you need to get used to it then that’s okay. we have all the time in the world, sweetheart. there’s no rush.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez smut #san x reader #san smut

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tidesreach · 2 months ago

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it's odd to me how little some people seem to grasp christopher's anger. and maybe i guess it's because at fourteen i was in a similar situation. i mean, not the seeing a doppelganger of a dead parent similar but. traumatised, extremely angry and living with my grandparents for a time because i could not stand to be around my mother, who was a GOOD mother, but was dealing with her own shit too. and in retrospect, i regret how cruel i was to her because she tried so, so hard, and she loved me so, so much. i just couldn't see it. because, again. i was fourteen and extremely angry and very traumatised. and that sort of anger at that age can stick, it can take a long time to work through, especially when there's nowhere else (or no one else) to direct the blame towards for how you're feeling. like, it's not wildly inappropriate that chris would still be angry three months later, that he's still holding onto it with both hands. he's hurting in a number of ways and he's punishing the only person he can for it. what is wildly inappropriate is how the diaz parents have reacted to it in a way that fosters more anger rather than encourages reconciliation. it's not christopher's anger that's the problem, it's the fact that they're stoking the fire by allowing it to fester. like, it would be one thing if they were giving him a safe space to work through his anger, which is what my grandparents did for me. but that's not what they're doing at all. there is a fine line between validating someone's feelings and actively encouraging self-destructive behaviour, and the latter is what they're doing. because it serves them. like, the worst part about this is they claim they're doing this for christopher. but they so are so clearly doing it for them. if they were doing it for christopher, they would be creating an environment that allowed him that space but also worked towards repairing his relationship with his dad, who he loves and needs, and towards getting him home. but they're not doing that. they're not just harming eddie in doing this, they're harming christopher. in such a fucking big way. it's unforgivable actually.

#i hate helena diaz so much i cannot explain #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 #eddie diaz #christopher diaz

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hvlcy0n · 5 months ago

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being in a relationship with chika takiishi would be interesting, because in my brain, he doesn't see it as an equal-footing relationship but more as an opportunity to possess you. all that matters in his mind is that you're his. he never really considered being yours, but truthfully, he is, since you're one of the only two people in existence that intrigues him and he would give the time of day to. now, that's not to say he treats you horribly. in fact, he treats you better than anyone else--although, that's not particularly difficult to do, considering how he treats everyone else like a chewed wad of bubblegum stuck to the sole of his shoe.

you're the only person who can get away with touching him without being pummeled into the ground or receiving a cruel backhand to the cheek. he doesn't flinch when you reach to hold his hand or glide your fingers through his fiery ombre. endo almost pities you when he first sees you wrap your arms around chika's waist or throw your arms over his shoulders, fully expecting for you to be shoved to the ground or have your arm twisted behind your back until your shoulder pops out of its socket. but, he's rightfully stunned when chika remains still and lets you cuddle up to him, the only acknowledgement of your presence being a mere glance at you or a hand briefly placed on whatever part of your body he can reach first.

he knows how much chika loathes being restrained, so how you're not only still upright but now pressing your cheek against the wiry muscle of his shoulder, endo doesn't know. but i'll tell you one thing. baby, when chika says let go, you LET GO😭 he may not strike you, but if you don't listen the first time, he'll resort to physically prying you off him or shaking you off so that he can do whatever it is that he wanted to do.

to touch on the possession thing i first mentioned, he'll do whatever he pleases with you. it isn't often that the desire for sexual gratification or even just physical affection strikes, but whenever it does, he doesn't think twice about indulging. if he wants you cage you against a filthy alley wall and kiss you stupid, he will. if he wants you to sit in his lap instead of standing behind him or sitting next to him, he'll beckon you over with a jerk of his chin. if you're moving too slowly for his taste and he doesn't feel like listening to you whine when he abandons you, so he has the idea to yank you up and toss you over his shoulder, he will. he'll be silent unless you ask questions, and even then, he might stay quiet, depending on whether or not he feels they're worth answering. don't think of trying to get down, either.

if he wants to do or say something, he'll do it. because who's gonna stop him? who's gonna whoop his ass? who's gonna be bold enough to see chika with his hand on you and think that trying to approach or kidnap you would bode well for them? exactly.

he's still not super talkative, but you're more likely to get a response or be approached of his own volition than the wide majority of people, so that counts for something, i suppose. he just kind of exists in your vicinity--or rather, you in his. if you were to tell endo that a day would arrive where someone is genuinely comfortable and unguarded when in chika's presence, he would've thought you were full of shit. but, here you are.

he doesn't get jealous, per se, but he does get possessive. you are his, and the wide majority of people are aware. however, that doesn't mean that you don't have the occasional guy who've either never heard of chika or don't know that you two are together.

chika has never been one to meddle in other people's affairs, often passing by conflicts or shady behavior without even batting an eye. and at first, when he hears the usual spiel of some guy trying to chat up some girl around the corner, he ignores it, uncaring. but, just as he's about to tune out the background noise, the man says something that piques his interest.

"that's a pretty necklace ya got there. what's it say? chika? lemme see."

"don't fucking touch me! that's my boyfriend's name!"

chika's footsteps pause, his attention drifting in the direction of the sound. it's you. that's all he needs to know before he's rerouting himself and making his way toward the source. his blank expression doesn't waver even as he rounds the corner and comes face to face with a broad, muscular back clad in a faux leather jacket. whatever guy is speaking to you hasn't noticed him, preoccupied with towering over you and trying to weasel his way into pawing at the sparkling pendant resting on your chest. you're shuffling backward, forehead creased apprehensively and hands drawn up to your chest protectively.

"hey."

it's only one word, yet it shatters the atmosphere like a whip crack, splitting apart your harasser's control at the seams. chika can see the goosebumps that prickle over the back of his neck as he whirls around to face him.

"the fuck do you want?" the stranger, still attempting to save face and scrape together his dignity despite having been rattled by chika's aura, brazenly steps up to him. "can't you see we're talkin' here?"

but, chika isn't even looking at him, his attention focused just past his shoulder at where you're standing. at the sight of your boyfriend, your eyes gleam with relief, and your muscles visibly relax. "chika!" you beam.

"ah, so you're chika." your harasser muses. "stupid move, lettin' your bitch wander off on--"

chika breezes forward without bothering to let him finish. in the process, his shoulder collides with the man's, knocking him off balance and leaving him teetering haphazardly on one foot before he quickly steadies himself.

"hey!"

his objection falls on deaf ears as chika clutches your wrist and tugs you toward him, his grip so tight that it's nearly bruising. you stumble, narrowly avoiding bumping into him.

"i'm fine--" your reassurance is cut off when chika abruptly seizes your face, fingers dimpling the skin of your cheeks and consequently puckering your lips as he angles your face this way and that. his eyes roam your face, dark with that same unreadable shadow you've grown accustomed to seeing. you whine in protest, hands lifting to rest on his forearm, but you don't push him off.

the strange man reaches for chika, eyes alight with flame. "what the hell do you--"

you don't even have time to process chika's arm being ripped away from you before there's a sickening, dull crack and a spatter of blood sailing through the air. all you can do is stand there in shock while your harasser slumps to the concrete in a pitiful heap, eyes fluttering as his consciousness slips and scarlet pouring from his smashed nose. chika casually lowers his hand back to his side as if nothing were amiss. he spares his handiwork a single glance before calmly stepping over it and heading back in the direction he came.

"let's go."

you don't hesitate to follow.

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #chika takiishi #chika takiishi x reader #wind breaker #satoru nii

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cccharries · 25 days ago

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✻ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴs! ✻

- ✎ type : headcannons

- ✎ featuring : Gyomei, Sanemi, Uzui, Shinobu, Mitsuri, Muichiro, Rengoku, Giyuu, Obanai

- ✎ A/N : this is my first post eek! Extremely exciting to write lololol, if I did any mistakes, don't be afraid to correct me! 😀

✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂ ✂

✦ 𝙆𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙤 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙪

Being a hashira means you will constantly have duties to carry out, missions to complete and her being the insect hashira means she also have to take care of the butterfly mansion sometimes, causing her to not have enough time for you

But she will try to make time in her schedule to spend it with you!

And as she tries her hardest to put up a fake smile, when she feels like letting it all out, she would just talk and vent about it with you and you being by her side is what makes her feel better, you are able to listen to her rant about her stress, her messy schedule and she appreciates every single second of you listening to her

How will you guys spend time? Going on walks in the lively garden filled with colourful butterflies, having tea with her and late night talks on the roof

Yapper x listener coded<3

She is the type to tease sometimes but she will never dare to step over your boundaries as she holds high respect for you

Nicknames aren't really used from her, she would just call you by your name but in special occasions, it would be "angel" "darling" and "love" 💓

If someone caused trouble by making you upset, she would be visibly angry and try to solve the problem using the safest way, although she wishes to do something more cruel than that.. But she does not want to cause trouble

When she is afar from missions, she would write letters to you and gift you anything that reminded her about you<3

She would gift stuff like a small boquet of tulips, a violet necklace or a purple flower hairpin!

✦ 𝙐𝙯𝙪𝙞 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙣

Gosh he's the teasiest of them all (not sure if that's even a word but lmfao)

Since he also have three wives (Makio, Hina and Suma), he will love you all equally and give the fair attention, it's hard to show attention to four people at the same time but.. He would make it work

Is literally so romantic and stupidly funny at the same time

He would spoil you ROTTEN with a lot of luxury gifts like a expensive kimono made from the finest fabric, a pair of long earrings with rose quartz that's worth a lot of yen and so much more

After he retired from being a hashira, he was finally to spend all his time with you and the others

Dates are definitely going to romantic dinners, movie nights and playing board games with the other wives (very tempting lol)

His nicknames are so so weird and.. Honestly too much sometimes but the ones that are the most normal are "Honey", "Cutie" and "Sweetheart" omfg I am cringing so bad

I am not really sure if he's a grumpy person but your love trope is DEFINITELY grumpy x sunshine I can see it!

His heart softens and ACHES when he sees you and his wives getting along

It's kinda hard to sleep on the same bed as him since he's huge and the wives also need space to sleep with him so I hc that you guys would sleep on 2 beds paired together

✦ 𝙈𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙞 𝙆𝙖𝙣𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙞

Oh my godly lord she's the sweetest person you would ever pull I swear

Her touch are so feather-like and gentle, everytime she hugs you and wrap her arms around you, you would just melt deeply into her touch

I hc that she would do cute little hairstyles on your hair for fun!

In a relationship, she wants to have something that stands out, which is.. Matching! Matching bracelets, matching necklaces and mostly anything that she finds cute!

Her love language is DEFINITELY physical touch & quality time

Nicknames from her are so cute!! Sometimes you feel embarrassed of her calling you in nicknames on public but it's cute at the same time so you could never scold her about it!

Nicknames from her can be "baby" and "Blossom"

I also headcannon that sometimes she would wake you up in 6am just to do yoga and exercising with her (she thinks it's normal and she would apologize NON-STOP if she actually disturbed your sleep)

She would share her Sakura mochis with you! (She will save more for herself though but hey! You should feel lucky that she's even giving you some 🧍‍♀️)

Dates are definitely going out to restaurants and trying new foods, going to picnics near the garden and baking together! 💗

✦ 𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙤𝙠𝙪 𝙆𝙮𝙤𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙤

He's a LOUD and I mean, LOUDDD laughter so whenever you make jokes, he would laugh SO LOUD that you need to cover your ears (and after that incident you stopped making jokes in front of him)

Everytime he stops by in the train station he would buy a lot of bentos and share it with you once he came home from his missions!

Everytime you feel upset, he would go get your favourite food to cheer you up instantly and listen to you venting/ranting then giving you advices

he's a FINE gentlemen, he would open doors for you, he would pull the chair for you to sit and it just makes your heart flutter

His nicknames for you are so sweet you just flush your cheeks up whenever he calls you "my angel" or "baby"

Cooks for you, he has the cooking skill of a chef and everytime he's not busy and doesn't have to go out early for work, you would wake up finding him in the kitchen cooking something that would make your mouth drool to the floor

Not only does he cook, he also likes to write letters and give you a lot of gifts if you guys have been separated for a while (probably he has to handle some missions given by Ubuyashiki but wtv)

He's a big fan of PDA, he doesn't really mind it at all + loves holding your hand or hugging you in public and does not care if anyone is giving him a weird look because Rengoku is Rengoku 😋

Love language is definitely acts of service + words of affirmation

✦ 𝙂𝙞𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖

He's.. A quiet guy but he is also good at being romantic!

He's not the best at showing love using words of affirmation, so instead his love language can be quality time 👉👈

If you feel upset, he would make your favorite tea and you guys would talk about it while having tea and he would draw you a warm relaxing bath

I don't think.. He's the type to use nicknames, he would be pretty awkward with it so he would just call you by your name

Dates are probably just cuddling on the bed for the whole night or late night walks on the forest (although he's a bit paranoid that you could get attacked by a demon but still the atmosphere is calming!)

Since he's much of a introvert, hes not really the biggest fan of PDA but he doesn't mind holding hands

When he started dating you, he didn't really know how to be romantic to you so he just treated you like a very close friend and when Tanjiro gave him a dating advice, he finally understood 😭

When he is far from home due to missions, you would receive a letter and a small wrapped gift from him to show how much he thought about you even when he's completing a important mission 🙁💘

The gifts can probably be a heart-shaped pebble or a blue sky themed hairpin!

✦ 𝙈𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙤

He's an airhead sometimes and would forget things easily, but to express his fear of forgeting you, he would have a small notebook that has every information about you kept in his pocket

I can't really think what love language he would be sticking to but it will DEFINITELY be quality time & physical touch 💖

He loves feeling your touch and he loves giving head-pats

Oh and one thing is that he LOVES gifting you a lot and I mean, A LOT of handmade origami 📄

He gives you like 5 of them in a week (you have no space to keep all of origami in your house)

Dates can be making origami together and walking in the garden together

I don't think he would use nicknames either so probably just calling by your name is the safest option

He doesn't really understand PDA + not really a fan but doesn't mind holding hands

If your upset, poor baby he doesn't know what to do to make you feel better (probably origami?)

Tanjiro had to give Muichiro a couple of relationship advice just for him to understand 😞

✦ 𝙄𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙊𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙞

He's very sour with his behavior and doesn't really trust women, but somehow your the exception.

His snake loves you so much and enjoys spending time with you and Iguro because he understood how Iguro felt about you 😆

And again, he has a hard time expressing his feelings through words so maybe his love language will be acts of service

Not really a big fan of pda either but he wouldn't mind unless you do too much

Sometimes when he's free he will invite you for lunch!

During the start of the relationship, you mostly had to be the one to make the first move since he didn't really knew what to do

(Spoiler) he adores and admires you when you praise his mouth-scar even though he feels insecure that he isn't good enough for you (treat him right 😞)

When he's walking on a town for a mission, he might get you some gifts like small pastries and a letter to update you about his ongoing mission!

He's very cautious sometimes that when you accidentally trip and is about to fall, he would catch you in a instant because he had some sort of fear of losing you which he will never want to face..

Not a fan of nicknames either, just calling you by your name would be fine..

✦ 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙬𝙖

Okay don't argue with me about this, at the veryyy start of the relationship, he was really hesitant to trust you at first due to losing too many people he loved

It WOULD really take some time for him to trust you but your patience is what makes him love you even more ☹️💞

Sometimes when he comes home in a angry mood and accidentally yells at you, he would immediately apologize in a harsh way and probably sneak in some cuddles when your asleep in your shared bed as a apology

He will yell at you but hit you? No, never, this man has a fear of hurting you

When you praise his revealing scars, he would have a tint of peachy blush flushing up on his face and he would deny it with a tone of stuttery words

Not rlly a fan of PDA, feels uncomfortable with it at the start but as time goes on, he starts getting used to it

No nicknames too.. He thinks it's embarrassing, so calling you by your name is the best.. (Different in bed tho)

every time he comes home from a tiring mission that stressed him out so much just wants him to quickly take a bath and join you in the buddle and cuddle for the whole night, recharging his energy 💘

✦ 𝙂𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙞 𝙃𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙖

Omg he's the softest giant ever

His touch are the same as Mitsuri's, feather-like and gentle because he fears that he might accidentally hurt you without knowing

As he is blind, feeling others presence and your presence is different for him, everytime he feels your presence his face will soften and call you out 💓

When he's far away from missions, he will also write letters to you to update you about his mission progress

Doesn't mind PDA actually, he finds it cute

When he feels the comparison of his hand holding your hand, it just makes him blush and think about it the whole time, he thinks it's extremely cute

Rare one! He will actually use nicknames for you in special occasions just like Shinobu and those nicknames would be "dear" "love" or "angel" 👉👈

I headcannon that you guys will definitely have the same matching bead bracelet/necklace (it was your idea)

Date ideas are definitely going to cat cafes or date to a cat-themed cafe omg!

I also headcannon that you two will adopt and raise a cat together 😽

Reblogs are appreciated<3

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vivalarevolution · 5 months ago

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𝓤𝓷𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Jacaerys Velaryon x Orphan Reader

Request: ��Jacaerys , who grew up together with the Reader - whom Rhaenyra adopted and raised. Over time, their friendship changed, but since they never had the courage to admit their feelings, they gradually began to distance themselves from each other. When Jacaerys is promised to Baela, their relationship is no longer the same. They both blame each other for what happened and continue to minimize their interactions until their father promises her hand in marriage to someone else.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. A very interesting concept that I thoroughly enjoyed writing.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

Work contains smut, so minors do not interact.

-Since she found out , she has not spoken a word to me…she hates me - the young prince lamented to his mother , Princess Rhaenyra , who watched him carefully , furrowing her eyebrows in consternation.

-You yourself said that you have hatred for her , why now your indifference to her has changed so drastically? - his mother remarked, looking for every single emotion that bubbled up inside him, wanting to understand what was hidden in the mind of her eldest son.

-I never hated her - he denied , closing his eyes and sighing heavily , frustrated -She is the one who hates me. She barely talks to me , and when she does it's as if ice falls out of her mouth instead of words.

-And why that bothers you now, my sweet boy? - Rhaenyra said softly, coming up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder - What happened that now , so suddenly, you crave her attention and acceptance?

Jacaerys was silent for a while, looking into the distance through the chamber window. Eventually he turned to his mother, his eyes filled with helplessness and anger , which slowly took control over his body.

He wanted to scream , he wanted to break everything within his reach and turn it into dust. But he did nothing and without a word , he walked away.

His steps were rapid , almost violent and hard. He walked through the corridors of Dragonstone as if the beast possessed his flesh , leaving behind a raw anger and tension that made the air heavier. And before he could chase away the fog that clouded his mind , he found himself in the chamber of his sister - Y/n Velaryon.

His dark eyes wandered involuntarily through the empty chamber , while his hands touched things that belonged to her. Stuck in an ocean of memories , he paused at the wooden desk, his fingers gliding over the material adorning the covers of old books , some closed , some open on pages , which she had read many times ,along with him , when they were still full of innocence.

He let himself remember , until his gaze rested on a piece of paper hidden between the pages. And before he could think about the subsequent consequences and implications , his hand uncover a letter , a letter regarding her...and the betrothal with Samwell Blackwood's son.

-Why are you here? - suddenly a female voice called out , a voice belonging to his younger sister , who was standing in the threshold of the chambers , looking at him , frowning her eyebrows.

-You can't marry him - he said , looking at her like an enraged animal, ignoring her question - You can't - he repeated, his body yet again being controlled by anger.

Her eyes rested on the paper , that was held by the young man in a disturbingly strong grip.

-How dare you tell me what to do? - she asked him , her voice dangerously cold -How dare you?!

-I dare to tell you what to do because I am your brother -he growled , clenching his hand into a fist , in which there was a letter.

-Brother? - she made an ironic sound - Our mother may have taken me under her care and raised me as her own, but that does not mean that you are my brother, no brother should be indifferent, cruel and cold as you are - she stated, and every word she spoke sounded like a sea of daggers that were cutting his body.

Jacaerys moved towards her, trapping her between the heavy wooden door and her own body.

-You talk about coldness and indifference? You are a hypocrite - he muttered, furrowing his thick eyebrows in annoyance - You are the one who destroyed the bond we once had. From the moment Baela was promised to me, you decided to destroy everything that was between us.

-If this is what you think - she scoffed, her eyes and voice devoid of emotions - If I make you so unhappy, you should be glad that I'm leaving for the Riverlands. You won't have to listen to me anymore, you won't have to see me.

-Do you truly think that's far enough? Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? - he muttered , looking into her siren eyes that seemed to draw him in.

They were both breathing harshly , words hanging heavy between them.

-What do you want me to do? - she whispered, feeling the air between them getting hotter -What do you want me to do to end your torment? - she asked , looking at him with misty eyes.

-I want you…to be mine - he replied - From the moment you let me touch your soft skin, from the moment you let me hear your voice, from the moment you let me admire your beautiful face I wanted you to be mine. Please dear sister , please let me be mine. Don't leave me, just be mine and I will be yours.

In response, the woman embraced his jaw with her warm palm and, moving closer to him, she let her full lips brush his.

-Nyke emagon va moriot issare aōhon Jacaerys (I have always been yours Jacaerys) - she confessed quietly , closing her eyes as his lips began to press against hers , desperate to feel her even closer , even more intensely.

Wet kisses spread over her lips , cheeks and jawline , leaving a trail of saliva behind. Jacaerys kissed her everywhere he could , marking her face with his mouth.

They were both needy , oh so needy. Every touch , every caress ,every whimper , every moan was more desperate than the last.

-Jaes ao yknagon sīr sȳz (Gods you smell so good) - he muttered , moving his nose along her neck , taking in the scent of the oils she sprinkled on her body and the sweat that had managed to appear on her skin through the heat she was in -Ao sylutegon sȳz tolī issa dōna mandia, sīr sȳz (You taste good too my sweet sister , so good) - he whispered in the hollow of her neck , licking and biting her pulse , while his long fingers , lazily hooked into the black fabric of her dress , letting it fall from her shoulders , revealing her firm , ample breasts.

-Oh Jacaerys - she mewled , embracing his head, entwining her fingertips between his wavy hair, pulling at its ends, drawing him closer to her -Don't stop…please don't stop touching me.

-Dōrī (Never) - he breathed out into her mouth , before he attacked her naked breasts , his tongue swirling around the hardened nipples , sucking them and tasting them with his tongue like a man starved.

Y/n moaned quietly , closing her eyes and surrendering to the feeling of a man's mouth on her skin and hands that sensually glided over her thighs , pulling the dark material up , revealing the material of her delicate undergarments.

-Jacaerys - she whimpered , watching as he sank to his knees in front of her.

-Will you let me taste you? - he asked , with rough fingers gliding along her smooth legs , stopping at her rounded hips , revealing her wet , swollen womanhood.

-Yes , yes , yes - she whispered , closing her eyes and tilting her head.

He was gentle and painfully slow, kissing and sucking her firm skin, leaving marks on her flesh as he got closer and closer to where she needed him the most.

She quickly fell into numbness. The amount of attention she was receiving seemed to overwhelm her body, but even so, she didn't want the moment to ever end, not with Jacaerys tormenting her womanhood in such an addictive way. She could compare him to a hungry animal , by the fact with what fervor he devoured her femininity, sampling every piece, not wanting to miss absolutely anything. She let the knot in her lower abdomen burst, spreading through her body the delightful and burning pleasure that was constantly coursing through her veins through the tongue of a man who refused to leave her, feasting on her even longer.

-Please let me feel you closer. I need you closer , closer than you have ever been - he groaned , embracing her frame , securing it in his strong arms and moving them so that he rested on the bed behind them, placing Y/n on his strong legs, immediately proceeding to attack her neck with slow kisses, while his hands crept to her throbbing entrance, which was waiting for him, embracing him tightly as he inserted two fingers into her, sensually moving them.

-Whatever you want , I'll give you whatever you want. But I beg you , don't make me wait my dear brother…I beg you. I need you as you need me…closer than we everwere - she whispered into his mouth , leaning her head towards his.

She moaned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as Jacaerys removed his fingers from her tight canal , replacing them with his thick and veiny shaft that penetrated her gummy walls, making her hide her face in the hollow of his neck, moaning and panting as she felt her brother pushing inside her for the first time, kissing her cervix with his member, giving her incredible pleasure and pain that only increased her desire.

He tried to be gentle and slow, but the nails digging into his back, the melodious moans at his ear and the warmth of his sweet sister's body made him rough , almost violent , taking advantage of her trembling body , which seemed to melt into his.

-Ñuha jorrāelagon (My beloved) - Y/n whined , feeling the recently discovered pleasure grow in her lower abdomen, forming another knot ready to burst at any moment.

-Ivestragon nyke iksā ñuhon (Tell me you're mine) - the prince growled, thrusting into her harder, making her feel as if his manhood was deep in her belly.

-Iksan aōhon, iksan aōhon, mērī aōhon! (I'm yours, I'm yours, only yours!) - Y/n announced, grabbing his wavy curls, pulling them tight as an electrifying sensation went through her body, making her almost blind with pleasure.

-Arlī , ivestragon ziry arlī (Again , say it again) - he demanded, attacking her neck.

-Iksan aōhon (I am yours) - she repeated, bringing their foreheads together.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

After everything, she was finally his.

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