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watchmegetobsessed · 7 months ago

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EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar.

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise.

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip.

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you.

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast.

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again.

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know.

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you.

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar.

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong.

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring.

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze.

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around.

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him.

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building.

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you.

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while.

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far?

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth.

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up.

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had.

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through.

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet?

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him.

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up.

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here.

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands.

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it.

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin.

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head.

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked.

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water.

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you.

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently.

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off.

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode.

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side.

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says.

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing.

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead.

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking.

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way.

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you.

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat.

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly.

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh.

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth.

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance.

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms.

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone.

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back.

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back.

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it.

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden.

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him.

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last.

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch.

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you.

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out.

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest.

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you.

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle.

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike.

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago.

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night.

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside.

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since.

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes…

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with.

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self.

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side.

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest.

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look.

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it.

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you.

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table.

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen.

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is.

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie.

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them.

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note.

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye.

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath.

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike.

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense.

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move.

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment.

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him.

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze.

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level.

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore.

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly.

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in.

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence.

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more.

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything.

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly.

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets.

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road.

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it.

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver.

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss.

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body.

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club.

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you.

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up.

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater.

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress.

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle.

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips.

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now.

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence.

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense.

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you.

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head.

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again.

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already.

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base.

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you.

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed.

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes.

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours.

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed.

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest.

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly.

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss.

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well.

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic.

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him.

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says.

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination.

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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wstviewvidal · 17 days ago

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boulevardier- w. maximoff

pairing: rich!wanda x r

summary: sparks fly at a chance encounter

a/n: first part of dirty cash!! i finished this early december but i was so nervous to post it but i don’t want to keep yall waiting any longer. i hope yall like it!

dirty cash masterlist

minors do not interact

looking over at your friend, you give her a glare as you watch her mingle with some potential business partners. being dragged to a fundraising banquet as your friend’s plus one was a way you did not want to spend your saturday evening. especially a night that is full of rich privileged people— a place that you surely don’t feel you belong.

“but you owe me from when you needed me to bail you out of that date a few weeks ago, remember?” was what she told you— and it was true.

the said date went downhill in record time, not even lasting a full thirty minutes before you had your friend call with a fake emergency. your date continuously went on and on about the state of the economy and how people should be investing in stocks to grow wealth rather than focusing on a day job.

needless to say, your friend pulled through and gave an overly convincing act to get you out of there quickly.

your friend is now immersed in a discussion with a man in a suit, probably trying to win him over in hopes to find an investor for her small business. you slip away quietly and let her work her charm.

walking around the banquet hall, you admire the decorations and the ambiance, something you’re not used to being around. you watch as women walk around in either suits or beautiful dresses, you can’t help but admire and feel a little out of place. you’re not used to the flashy life that the people here live— you’ve never had the ample opportunities that the people in this room have had. feeling a sense of jealousy and insecurity run through your veins, you try to snap out of it. it’s not healthy and you know it, but you can’t help but wish you’d be in their shoes.

sighing softly to yourself, you you find a vacant seat at the open bar and order a drink while you people watch. you can hear the live music playing, the chatter of everyone’s conversations, clinking of champagne glasses, the expensive laughter.

imagining your life in their shoes while you nurse your cocktail is how you spend the next few minutes occupying your time.

“is it any good?” you hear a smooth, confident voice ask beside you.

glancing over, you’re met with a dark haired woman with captivating green eyes smiling at you— the kind that disarms you before you even realize it. you smile back and shrug a bit, “it’s a drink. i needed one.”

you joke, now looking over at her well tailored suit and dark makeup. she’s beautiful.

chuckling subtly, “i’d ask you how your night is going, but based off of that sentence— i think i know how it’s going so far. i’m wanda, it’s nice to meet you.” she puts her hand out for a handshake, the glint in her eyes showing her amusement in the introduction.

her hand is warm when you shake it and you can smell a hint of expensive perfume as she gets closer to you to sit in the seat next to you. she speaks with confidence and an alluring charm.

you introduce yourself and laugh, “i didn’t mean any bad by it, it’s just not my.. environment,” you gesture to the crowd around you, “the rich pretentious crowd, it all seems fake to me. dressing up in your finest jewels just to fake altruistic behavior.. it’s not real to me.”

perhaps the drink was already getting to you. maybe that’s the reason you’re letting out a word spill to the beautiful woman who just wanted to know if your paloma was good.

or maybe it’s the way she giggled along with a small nod of her head as you spoke your mind. either way, she wasn’t put off by your tangent. in fact, she continued to sit with you and entertained your preferred topic of discussion for the next few minutes.

wanda watches you with an amused smile on her face. her eyes linger a bit longer on your lips longer than they should.

“fake altruism, huh? what would make it real?” she asks, with a small tilt of her head. her eyes squint the tiniest bit, her grin showing genuine interest. her voice is inquisitive, almost like she’s trying to probe you for something.

had you gone too far? you hesitate to respond, realizing you’ve possibly offended her— wondering if you’ve crossed a line. instead, wanda’s smiling and leaning into you as she wants to hear more.

noticing your slight hesitation, “you know, not a lot of people have the guts to say that. i really like it,” she chuckles softly. wanda looks over your features with a small smile as you move on to talk animatedly about your line of work. she’s enamored by how you’re wearing your emotions on your sleeve— something she struggles with.

you catch yourself, “i’m so sorry, wanda. i’ve been talking at you this whole time.” you inwardly cringe at how you’ve been holding her up with your rambling.

she shakes her head and puts her whiskey down on the bar gently, “no, please, i’m enjoying you. this is quite possibly the most entertainment i’ve had all night so far.” she puts a comforting hand on your forearm that’s resting on the bar in a comforting approach, she’s giving you a genuine smile. her gesture lasts a second too long, her gaze feeling a bit more personal than it needs to be.

“what are you here for?” you shake your head and change the subject to her, wanting to know more about her and why she’s still here wanting to be with you.

her eyes flicker towards the crowd and she hesitates for a moment, almost debating whether or not to be honest with you, “i’m just here for work, requirement by the job.” she shrugs and avoids eye contact, switching the subject back to you. she plays with the rim of her cup, not quite giving you her undivided attention like she just was.

weird.

you don’t spend too much time on it, not wanting to push her away. “i’m here for my friend. she recently started a new business and is hoping to find an investor here, make a good connection.”

you tell her as you gesture to your friend who’s now moved onto her next target of the night. she’s speaking with a woman this time, half interested in what she’s talking about.

wanda nods and follows to where your gesturing, “hm, i’ll have to check her out later.”

you two laugh and talk about different topics over the next ten minutes— ambitions you two have, where you two went to school, where you want to travel. the conversation is lighthearted but the both of you are enjoying the other’s presence.

shaking her head with a laugh, “paris is overrated. you’ll spend more time in traffic than seeing the eiffel tower.”

she watches your expression with a teasing smirk as she says this. she can tell paris is the one place you have always wanted to go to, but she wants to rile you up a bit. pure enjoyment is written on her face as she watched your face contort in mock and offense.

scoffing and looking at her with an incredulous glance, “so tell me where you’d recommend since you’re so well travelled.”

you place your chin in your hand as you await her response. your eyes are slightly glazed over and wanda can’t help but melt at the way the lights are reflecting in your eyes.

wanda grins at your tease, “vienna. no contest. it’s beautiful, and the pastries there will ruin everywhere else for you. you need to go if you ever find the opportunity.” she’s gazing at you intently as you take in her words, the way you’re nodding along to what’s she’s saying with genuine intrigue.

you are just about to respond right as a man taps her on the shoulder and says something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. he leans in with a hint of impatience and you can see how wanda’s posture goes rigid and her jaw tightens.

wanda grimaces and lets out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sorry. they’re calling me for work. i’ll try to find you after, okay? please don’t leave until i see you again. i’d hate to lose my best conversation of the night.”

she gets up from her chair and gives your shoulder a squeeze, lingering a bit longer than needed, her thumb brushes against your skin. she smiles at you warmly just before she takes off in the direction of the man.

you watch as she leaves, noticing how people look in her direction with a hint of awe as she walks past. it makes sense since she had you wrapped around her finger in such a short amount of time.

you leave the bar to find your friend, glancing in the direction wanda left with a love struck smile on your face.

you find her and ask how the networking went. she lets out a sigh of content, “i can’t believe i got to talk to so many people! i gave them all my buriness card and i hope they’ll get in contact with me sometime this week.”

you nod along as she speaks, but subtly looking around the room for any glimpse of the well dressed brunette who had you captivated as soon as she spoke to you.

“did you meet anyone? you’ve been cooped up at the bar all night,” your friend asks as she nudges your shoulder playful with a grin.

rolling your eyes, “actually, yeah. i was talking to a woman, she seems sweet.”

your friends eyes lighten up and she grabs your arm with a small squeal. you laugh at her excitement about your (potentially) blossoming love life. she has continuously tried to set you up on dates in the past, but it never works out.

you groan and cringe, “i know, i know, but remember that i just met her and we don’t even know if-“

your friend shushes you with a stern look, “stop, look! that’s the ceo, the one i told you about earlier i hope i can get in with. she sponsors and invests in a lot of companies and schools. if i can get in with her, it’s like winning the lottery.”

you furrow your eyebrows and turn around to face the stage she’s pointing you to. it takes you a second to find a gap to look in between the bodies in front of you.

and there she is— wanda. your wanda. only now, there she is smiling in all her glory, waving at the crowd that is now forming in front of the stage. the faintest smile on her lips as she gently waves to the crowd.

“oh my god,” your blood runs cold and you freeze in place. you look over at your friend with a terrified look, eyebrows pulling together and eyes wide.

heat rushes to your face and you begin to replay every word you’d said to her at the bar. did she think you were mocking her? your hands begins to clench in nervousness and you want the ground to swallow you whole.

you messed up.

your friend looks at you with a confused look, then pieces it together slowly as she gauges your facial expressions. “oh my god,” she grabs your arm, “oh my god!”

people around look at you two, some shushing you with judgemental looks on their faces. she giggles and mouths, ‘no way.’

she’s filled with excitement at the potential in, you’re filled with dread and embarrassment as you mule over the fact that you complained about this event to wanda. wanda maximoff, the ceo of maximoff industries— founder and organizer of the charity event you’re attending.

your face heats up in embarrassment and you try to hide behind your friend as wanda speaks.

“good evening, everyone,” she stands tall and poised, her voice steady and confident, “thank you all for being here tonight. together, we all share a common goal: to invest in the future by supporting the education of our children.”

you muffle out wanda’s words as you try your best to stand still and not make any sudden movement. maybe if you’ll suddenly become invisible if you stand still enough.

unbeknownst to you, wanda was trying her hardest to spot you in the crowd. unfortunately, the stage lights kept her from being able to clearly see beyond the podium.

you feel queasy and lightheaded as you quickly walk to the restroom. you lean against the sink and try to steady your breathing as much as you can. of course you would somehow offend a ceo at their own event.

you groan as you force yourself to suck up your ego and walk back out into the now booming crowd.

you try to keep a low profile as you walk parallel to the wall— the last thing you want is to offend someone else here.

“there you are,” wanda walks up to you with a two glasses of champagne in her hand. she hands one to you with a smile, “i thought you left me.”

you take the glass with a polite smile, then cringing inwardly as you remember your word vomit at the bar. “listen, wanda, i’m so sorry about what i said. the event is beautiful and i love what you’re doing for the community. it’s amazing, really.”

the words come out rushed and wanda can see a flush on your cheeks. she chuckles softly and shakes her head, “hey, you’re okay. it’s okay. i didn’t take any offense, in fact, i really admire your honesty. it’s rare that i get that nowadays. you really.. stood out tonight.”

you groan and avert your eyes from her. she looks you over and admires you silently. she wants to laugh at your now embarrassed demeanor, a stark contrast to your extroverted energy at the bar.

she realizes she’s been looking at you for too long , clearing her throat and bringing the champagne up to her lips. she looks over the rim at you, trying to be as subtle as possible. your side profile is illuminated by the string lights on the ceiling, your eyes twinkling a bit more than before. perhaps the alcohol now settling in your blood stream? or maybe the fact that wanda actively sought you out after her speech.

you turn to wanda with a small sigh, “are you sure you’re not offended?” you play with the bracelet on your left wrist to try and ground yourself. you feel horrible and uncomfortable in her presence now.

wanda placed a warm hand on your forearm with a gentle look, “i promise. i mean, maybe don’t write off an event before you know what it’s about. people can surprise you, you know?”

wanda’s voice is teasing but soft and comforting. her eyes show no sign of telling a lie and you let out a small laugh at the situation. wanda nudges you with her shoulder softly as she goes to stand next to you.

for a split second, you want to throw caution to the wind and get to know her. you want to ask personal questions— hope there’s something more there.

but you don’t get the chance to. the same man who pulled her away earlier is now speaking into her ear and you can see how irritated she quickly gets with what he’s saying. nodding at what he says, she turns to you with an apologetic look on her face.

“it was refreshing talking to you,” she wants to say more, wants to offer to get you another drink— but she can’t, “take care of yourself, okay?”

and just like that, she’s gone into the crowd. maybe this wasn’t meant to continue on past tonight. maybe meeting wanda was just meant to be a chance encounter.

your friend walks up to you with a furrowed brow, “you’re seriously going to just let her leave?”

you can see the subtle hint of frustration on her face, the wild gesturing in wanda’s direction making it evident she wasn’t happy that you let her leave.

shrugging softly, “i’m sure she’s got better things to do.”

your voice is soft as you stare at wanda speaking with a group of people. she’s got an effortless grace and charm to her, something you don’t have.

following your friend to the exit, you try to push back the thought of wanda and the ‘what if.’

but the memories of her lingering touches, the laughs at your jokes, her soft smiles are now engraved into your mind. you don’t expect to see her again, but a part of you so desperately wishes you could.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x r #wanda maximoff x reader #noe writes #dirty cash #wanda maximoff fanfiction #rich wanda maximoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wstviewvidal

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muntitled · 6 months ago

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Clockwork | Park Sunghoon

Vampire!Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

Summary: “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck."

Warnings: Language, Implied Violence, Dark Fic, Morally Ambiguous!Reader, Blackmail, Reader has a crush, Librarian!Reader, Implied age gap, Confrontation, Smut (+18) mdni, Blood Kink, Biting, Sadism, Masochism, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!Reader, public sex, dub/Con, fingering, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Ownership kink, Pain Kink, Marking, Dumbification, Dacryphilia

Idek yall…

They are such stuff as monsters are made of.

That is the very last thing you are taught about Sunghoon.

That he is something to fear.

Predatory.

Killer.

But all you saw and all you’ll ever see is the boy casted in the shadows of library bookshelves. This is the setting that births your obsession- no- your love for him.

Every Thursday afternoon.

When the library has cleared out.

The only time he’s not with his family. The only time he’s alone.

Like clockwork.

“What do we have here?” A phrase you were obligated to say. Not many townsfolk valued literature and those that did, as per your boss, “needed to find every reason to come back.” Even if that meant mustering a robotic sunshine smile. As if you were a cashier at Starbucks and not a small town librarian.

How you managed to speak so coherently with Sunghoon looming on the other side of the desk remains a complete and utter mystery. If you were driven, otherwise, by the bundle of love knots in your stomach you might have stuttered foolishly and squeaked your way through scanning his books.

“Books.” He answers curtly, brusquely, leaving absolutely no room for further conversation- or interrogation, as it would apparently appear.

Sunghoon is not looking at you. His eyes - those endless golden voids-, are looking down at the mahogany desk you are standing on the opposite side of. You wish for more than anything to feel that otherworldly feeling of having those golden eyes focused completely on you.

What must that feel like?

To have Sunghoon’s sole, undivided attention.

You would soon have the unfortunate pleasure of finding out.

“W-Well I know they’re books,” You continue, stating this with an airy, light chuckle. A chuckle that indicated this conversation should have been over a long time ago and that you’re blatantly aware of that. Why aren’t you keeping your mouth shut?

“I mean- Well I just mean, you know it’s not everyday a 20 year old takes out,” You glance down at the book in your hands before sending it through the system, “Wuthering Heights?” Your brows furrow as you send a second one of his books through the scanner, “Turn of The Screw?” And the final, “Frankenstein-Mary Shelley?"

You quirk a questioning eyebrow up at him- one silently inquiring ‘what the fuck’s up with the archaic books, grandpa?’ But he, of course, is not sparing you a single glance.

Or wait- he does. But for the briefest moment.

"I enjoy literature.” It almost makes you keel over in inexplicable discomfort, the way the words were chewed on before they were forcibly spat out. You can see he is done entertaining your mindless spiel but for some weird, fucking stupid reason, you’re not done with him.

“Well yeah, sure. But I mean, the dust on these books are ageless, you must be the first man to borrow these in like, 40 million years-”

“21.” It is all he says. One little word that cuts your rant short like a heated knife. You glance up at him, hoping those dazzling eyes look down at you.

And they do.

Bloody, fucking, Christ. They do.

“You said 20. I’m 21.” Before you were about to ask how that could be the case- how Sunghoon could be older than you when you distinctly remember finishing high school the same year?

He decides to shock you.

“I got… held back a year. I was already supposed to have graduated.” You are not sure whether it’s the sprinkle of rain that has begun falling. Whether it was the weight of the impenetrable fact that Sunghoon fucking Park has just spoken to you more words than he’s ever said your entire high school career. Or whether-and this may exactly be it-you were affected by those blazing eyes that glided backup to look at you.

Not golden.

Blazing.

For the golden hues have simmered into something darker. They’ve literally bled into a darker shade of the gold-almost yellow hues in his eyes. The breath completely escapes your throat. This time he does not look away.

“R-Right. Of course. Sorry.” You had nothing to be sorry for. How could you ever have known any of Sunghoon’s and his weird friends’ ages when the only people they directly interacted with were the teachers and themselves? You could never have known Sunghoon was 21 and therefore did not need to apologise but… those eyes… they made you sorry.

“It’s just-” why the fuck, after everything, after all of that, is your mouth still moving? It’s like this was your only opportunity of bravery. Your only window letting through a sliver of courage before you would retreat in on yourself for the rest of your waning time in this town. Moving amongst the books like a spectre before you ran off to college.

This was your only opportunity.

“Well they’re all Victorian.” You finally let those words tumble out of your mouth.

You hear the sharp intake of breath.

“Bronte, James, Shelley.” You slide the books to him. “All Victorian… is this pattern the product of some trend I’m missing out on?” You chuckle lightly at the end of that, hoping to wrench one out of him too but you knew that was an impossible feat. Still, the chuckle drains down your throat when you hand him his books. Your fingers, still encircled around the hardbacks, brush over him accidentally.

“Jesus, are you cold?”

He pulls away quickly, evading eye contact like you’d turn him to stone. Evading your touch like your skin scorched his. “It’s raining. I-I could give you a ride-”

Sunghoon gulps visibly. In the span of a single conversation, those dark-golden eyes have stayed firmly on you but now they are prying you apart.

“That won’t be necessary.” He says, swallowing thickly once more.

“Of course.” You wave him off, immediately overcome by the embarrassment of your own presumptuous nature. Sunghoon's gaze drifts down to the books once more.

No. You can’t afford the dismissal. You can’t bear the non-verbal rejection any longer.

The faucet that is your mouth, just continues spewing.

“Vampires aren’t usually the ones being offered a ride, are they?” You turn your head, focusing on the raindrops shooting pellets at the tall library window. Your gaze appears far away but that’s what you want him to think. In your periphery, you see his eyes snap up from the mahogany desk with his head following; enough to make those dark strands bounce in surprise. You know you finally have him.

“I’m the victim,” You continue basking in the attention. Retaining more satisfying heat from his gaze alone than the husky fluorescent buzzing above you both. You are suddenly all too aware that the library is deserted.

“I’m supposed to be coaxed into your car. That’s how it works right? Like Bundy."

You lazily swing your gaze back from the window until you meet his eyes that have bled into an even darker shade of gold. So dark the gold has vanished completely, actually, leaving two soulless depths. His eyes scream, ‘how do you know?’

His jaw is tightened like screws and his fist is clenched so tight it should spout blood.

But there is no blood, is there? Dead things lose all of that.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about-” You lift a hand up. Right there, right in front of his stone face, silencing him immediately.

“That dance gets a little bit tedious, doesn’t it?” You laugh loudly into the hollow air filled with nothing but raindrops and thunder. “A little bit boring?” You give him a smirk. “I know one thing your little family specialises in isn't boredom.”

You make the unforeseen move of stepping back from your computer, slowly making a show of sauntering around the desk. Sunghoon's dark irises track you like a sniper and you revel in it.

You must stop your hands from fisting at your own sides.

You must maintain the little control you have, or it might just cost you your life.

“You're wrong,” he says, “The books. They’re not all Victorian.”

He’s stalling. Deflecting. Trying to distract himself from your nearing frame.

“Frankenstein,” he continues, “Shelley published it in 1818, that’s just short of the start of Victoria’s reign.”

You give him a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Hm. You would know though, wouldn’t you?”

He is pulled into silence.

“But back to your little lie.” Your path is set and your mind is made. “Vampire's daylighting as average university students? That’s a good fucking story.” You nod slowly, “A good fucking story.” You take small, tentative strides closer to him. Not wanting to engage too quickly. Sunghoon was big, tall and looming. Having that kind of frame tense- more tense than he already is, would only result in a blood bath. Your blood bath.

“Everyone at school, everyone in this town thinks you’re all so goddamn close but you wanna know what I think?” You saunter closer and he inhales sharply.

“No.”

You tsk and click your tongue, not stopping your calm gait whatsoever until his scent completely enveloped you. So empty and… dead.

A smell that can’t be masked by the most expensive cologne and yet you enjoyed it. It made your blood race and if what you knew was true, then he could hear the erratics of your heart as well. You wanted him to.

“See, Hoonie-”

“Sunghoon.”

“Hoonie. Why else would you be entertaining this nonsense?” You continue moving closer until his back is pressed against the wooden desk, looking down at you with a near pitch black abyss. You look up at him, feigning innocent doe eyes as you pressed your voluminous chest against him. You dare even let your hand drift over his black, cotton sweater.

“I could-” Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed before he snaps them open again. “I could hurt you. But you know that, don’t you?” A finger slips itself under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

Or so you thought.

He continues to lift your chin until you were looking up at the fluorescent light. Then, and only then, did you understand that he was baring your neck to him.

“Aw, Sunghoon.” You chastise lightly, still letting him do with you as you please. Unbeknownst to him, you were leaning in closer, letting your hand slip onto the desk behind him until you found just what you were looking for.

Letter opener.

“I’m counting on you to hurt me, Silly.”

You finally pull back, before he can lower himself further in-before he could go in for the kill.

You aim the sharp two-edged blade of the letter opener into your left palm and, with all the reserve in the world, you cut a long, shallow gash all the way in.

The very second your palm stains crimson, Sunghoon's entire build begins to shake. His chest begins to heave uncontrollably. His face is perfectly the same but somehow you still hear the hungry tufts of air leaving his nostrils, even over the raging rain outside and you smile.

“Trust me.” You say,

“I’m counting on you hurting me,”

“You’re really goddamn stupid, you know that?“ He says cockily, feigning his control when his pitch black eyes are a dead giveaway. The pupils are trained on the beoken skin along your palm and that alone. The blood has begun dripping aimlessly down your palm and you hold it up to him, showing him his prize. Showing him everything he’s been missing.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I’m crazy and stupid.” You discard the letter opener on the carpet beside you. It clunks to the ground and you let out a little sigh.

“You can go ahead and bite me Sung-” You might not explicitly be on a nickname basis, but you figured now was as good a time as any to familiarise yourself with each other, since-

“You’re gonna turn me."

Sunghoon finally rips his onyx eyes away from the dripping crimson faucet and he stares down at you questioningly.

"Why would I do that?” Some hair has fallen in front of his left eye but he makes no move to brush it away, so naturally, you do it for him… using your bleeding left hand.

“Well… because you’re you. And self restraint isn’t very you, Sunghoon.” You tuck the dark strand, now stained lightly with your blood, behind his ear and you begin to trail your hand slowly down the side of his face. Sunghoon's eyes flutter closed and he leans, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, right into your bleeding grip. He turns his head sideways and inhales sharply.

“I knew it.” You marvel at the boy before you. “Sure it was just a theory but- it all fell serendipitously into place: The absent days when it’s sunny out. The deathly paleness. The untouched lunch trays. The old ass books that probably give away your real age.” His eyes are still closed and he is still moving his cheek against your bleeding hand. He hums unintelligibly.

“The ice cold skin was my final check.”

“How clever.”

He produces the first smile you’ve ever seen and the beauty of it releases a wave of endorphins and butterflies in your gut. “You want a cookie for that?” He has a dangerously gorgeous lopsided grin that, coupled with the gleaming, pointed canines that have emerged, leaves your pulse quickening in more places than your heart.

“What’s to stop me from ripping you open right now? There’s no one here. No one will be here in time to stop me from killing you.” He turns to look at you and you almost gasp at how severely sexy your smeared blood on his cheek looks.

“Give me reasons.” He urges with his voice bouncing off the walls.

“I need reasons or-” his eyes flutter closed “-or I just might do it. I will kill you.”

You needed to maintain control. But in that moment you knew and feared that you and him were beginning to realise that your dominant reserve was slipping right through your fingers. It was your turn in the hot seat. Okay.

You got what you wanted. Find out what you needed to find out. But all that came at a price.

You try to keep your voice steady as you answer him.

“As much as it annoys you and me, Sunghoon, it is a fact that you wanna fit in with everyone else.” Sunghoon's eyes never leave yours as you continue talking. “You probably never really had a home and this town allows you to blend in with the rest of us.” He breathes deeply through his nose. “Killing the bookkeeper would put this little fantasy life you've built for yourself in jeopardy,” Your breathing is irregular and harsh and you look at his lips and oh god you need to taste him.

“But you’re still you, Sunghoon. This town can’t and never will change that fact. You’re not like the rest of us,” You finally say, “You’re not-”

In a blur and manipulation of time, space and all the little things in between, you’ve been transported with a swift dash across the room until you were being held by the throat against a bookshelf. Pain stems from the sudden and rapid movement but the firm and unwavering squeeze on your throat, elicits a wave of lust.

“I’m done playing your little mind games.” He’s seething and he’s angry and he’s right where you want him.

“Oh? But we were having so much fun, Sung-” He squeezes your windpipe, so incredibly close to crushing it.

“What do you want?”

You let the first ever genuine smile slip onto your face.

“For you to turn me, Hoonie."

He pauses. Quite literally.

Sunghoon's rapid breathing goes to a complete stand still and his form goes as still as a statue. You deduce that this is him thinking. He’s mapping out all the possible shit storms this would conjure up for him and his precious family and you hold the will to roll your eyes. After a few stunted seconds, Sunghoon eases back again.

"Once I start-”

“You won’t stop? Sunghoon, we’ve been eye fucking this entire time. I'm not sure what it is about Blackmail that gets you off but it's not difficult to see how bad you need it.” He squeezes your throat again in warning, already telling you all you need to know.

He's not sure why he's attracted to you. He shouldn't be. Whether its the fact that you should already be dead for even knowing his secret- for thinking you can offee him an ultimatimatum- its your sheer fucking guts that has him warming with attraction.

Your words slowly bring him up for air. “If there’s one thing stronger than your need to feast,” You lift that hand up once again, “-its your need to fuck. Vampires are immortal so they draw pleasure from the little things. The pleasurable things. That bulge in your pants can’t go unnoticed, Sunghoon, no matter how long you want it t-”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes before he murmurs: “Just shut up,”

He crashes his lips right onto yours. The kiss is not only electric but it’s magnetic. As if you would not be able to pull away even if you wanted to. And his firm grip on your throat keeps you there. It’s strong and he squeezes as he licks on your bottom lip, coaxing the opening out of you. So naturally, you moan, and the bastard uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You needn’t open your eyes to see he was half-smiling into your kiss. That little nugget of information made you need him even more. During your kiss, you squeeze your legs together. Sunghoon hums disapprovingly in your mouth, sending his other hand down your thigh, urging them apart.

“You can’t do that.” He breaks the kiss and says the words at a perfectly even breathe, meanwhile you were a heaving mess.

“What?” You inquire dumbly, all too focused on his hand on your jeans to rather give a fuck about anything else.

“Pathokinesis.” Is all he says before he ducks down into the crook of your neck, ripping the gasp out of your lungs by force. His large hand around your throat moves up to your cheek, rubbing the skin with his thumb softly.

“Don’t do that.” He says into your neck before venturing to flick his tongue out, licking the skin and driving you all too insane. You almost don’t register his words but the weight of his revelation has you tumbling to your senses momentarily.

“What? So you can like-”

“Sense and manipulate your emotions?” He says, coming up from your neck. “Yeah.” He nods once before he takes your mouth in his once more.

“What you feel,” he mumbles in between the kiss, “I feel too."

Yet another gasp strains your throat when you feel two sharp teeth graze against the skin of your plump bottom lips as Sunghoon pulls away.

Have you really thought any of your movements through?

What if sex with a vampire was fatal?

You’re about to spiral into oblivion before Sunghoon speaks up.

"No.” He says curtly, and you’re all too aware of the hand trying to push past your denim jeans. “You’re not pulling back on me now. Not after everything.” You’re in awe of his words.

“Jesus, so you really can feel everything.”

That life threatening smile again.

“Pretty much.”

He begins to undo the buttons of your pants tentatively, almost meticulously, as if you were fortunate to have all the time in the world. You’re about to urge him to hurry the fuck up but one of the shelves behind your head collapses. Books fall to a sad heap on the floor and the wood is snapped in tiny pieces. Sunghoon's hand was leaning against that particular shelf.

Maybe he’s not as calm as he’d like to convey.

“There is one thing,” the buttons are undone but he’s stopped moving his fingers. They are in fact paused on the lining of your underwear. The material is calmly in between his index and thumb, creating the sickest, most twisted need you’ve ever felt. You almost abandon modesty and grind into him right then and there.

His next words however, have you almost wanting to keel over in grief.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says with a sick smile.

“Why?” It's all you can manage and suddenly, you think the universe must be smiling at the irony of this situation. The encounter had begun with You as the master of this blackmail, yet here you were, grovelling for him.

“I think you’re really good at getting what you want,” he says, leaning forward and slowly, oh so slowly, letting his hand slip into the fabric. The graze of his fingers on you cunt alone making you almost sob out in need.

“And I’m not gonna allow that.” He concludes before pushing his hand all the way in. Sunghoon does nothing but snicker when he feels the pool of wetness.

“This is how this is gonna work,” he uses his free hand to pick up your limp left one. The wound is of considerable size however, the blood is not flowing as much but it’s still there.

“You’re gonna give me this.” He lifts your limp hand up and you comply like a puppet on a string. “And I’m gonna give you this.” His fingers-the index and the middle,- flick over your clit, causing you to let out an aching whimper.

“Got it?” He’s already placing your bloody palm against his plump lips and you’re too enamoured. Too enamoured at the sight of his tongue sticking out and lapping at the blood as if it were a healing potent. You’re too enamoured to respond and he does not like this one bit.

Sunghoon flicks another finger against your clit.

“JESUS!” You scream into the empty library. Sunghoon, who’s eyes were closed, shoots open and he hums disapprovingly.

“No,” he says irritably, “Sunghoon. Say Sunghoon.”

You’re a drunken, sex filled mess. “Fuck-Sunghoon.” He smiles, satisfied, before returning to your palm. You begin to grind into his fingers and his chuckles.

“Sung… Sunghoon please.” There are tears staining your eyes and you’re so completely torn apart. The thrill of it being in a public setting. The rain. The licking on your palm. It’s too much.

Way too fucking much.

“Please? Please let you finish?” Sunghoon asks mockingly and a sob releases from your throat as your hips begin to buck into his hands. “You’d like me to let you cum all over my hand?”

“Please, Hoonie. Please.”

“That’s a shame…” He replies, “I thought we were having so much fun.” You do not even have the strength to act stunned at having your words being flung back at you, you’re too focused on the fingers that have slipped inside of you and the hissing noise escaping Sunghoon's throat.

It’s all so unbelievable. Sunghoon pulls back and hisses loudly. Your heart stops at the sight of his canines elongating even further but that all falls away when he sinks them further into your palm. Biting down.

Hard.

“Hoon..” You're completely out of it. The fingers slide in and out and in and out, searching rapidly for your g-spot, but in the very same breath, there’s a sharp, bright and blinding pain in your left palm, letting the tears fall as they may.

“Fuck, Sunghoon! Oh god! It hurts! It hurts so fucking bad!” You’re sobbing but his fingers inside you are relentless and his sucking, even more so. You feel like nothing but an object of his pleasure as your hand begins to grow numb. Sure he was bringing you to orgasm, the very same time you felt even that was for his own pleasure.

Never had you experienced a pain quite like this. This pain felt otherworldly. Diabolical. As if someone were ripping the nails right out of your fingers. As if you slammed the car door in on your hand repeatedly.

And the pain. God, the pain is white and bright, you fear passing out may be inevitable.

Sunghoon brings his head up, releasing his fangs from your palm but continuing his assault by licking and sucking on the two indents. “I know, my beautiful, beautiful girl,” he says, “I know."

The sobs stop, perhaps because you want to hear his voice. Perhaps because you feed on his praises. "You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mutters unsoundly in between his licks, “So pretty, so perfect.” You realise he’s as delirious as you, his eyes are wide, gazing down at the madwoman before him with his own madness swirling in his irises. His lips are stained red and somehow that sets you over the edge.

“Hoonie?”

His eyes are red. Blood red. You gasp. “I’m-” You don’t finish the sentence, already feeling your orgasm crest as you carelessly fling yourself over the edge. It hits you and you forget all about the pain. All about the blood.

“That’s it, my pretty, pretty girl.” He encourages and your body is shaking violently against the book rack. Your eyes are screwed shut and you’re rocking uncontrollably into his hand.

In that moment, Sunghoon may have thought that he gained everything, but you gained far more. And when you come out of that high, once the fog cleared and the rain simmered down to a tiny, light pitter patter.

You begin to feel…

New.

“Welcome to immortality, Beautiful.” He whispers in your ear with that recognizable lopsided smirk.

You feel… empty. Drained. You feel nothing at all.

“Population… You”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #enhypen x black reader #enhypen headcanons #sunghoon x black!reader #park sunghoon x black!reader

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all444miles · 1 year ago

Text

— JERSEY LUV PT.2

— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: suggestive but fluff — summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!

part 1 part 3 !

MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.

MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.

"Nah amor, you gon stay right here." "Miles, I-" Nuh uh."

MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.

speaking of making out..

MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.

MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.

MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.

"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me." "baby, you know ion work out." "ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn." "you just want me to watch you, huh?" "..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."

MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.

MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.

MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.

"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."

MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.

MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.

"awwee, my man breaking the law for me." "you like it?" "love it."

tags: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayeluvsu @iwannagohomesaystamaki @onginlove @sheluvv-jen @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @m4rihrts @whitejxsmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

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milliumizoomi · 7 months ago

Note

do you think armando is the type to wanna pay for everything? like the man will literally not let you pay for anything while you’re with him even if you protest against it

𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄: 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒

☆彡SUMMARY.; His money definitely talks but he doesn’t let yours do so much as whisper.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO x READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANON || DRABBLE

☆彡GENRE.; TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

☆彡WARNINGS.; Google translated Spanish, Mature language, Armando being you’re resident sugar daddy

☆彡NOTES.; this was too funny and I loved writing thisssss,, tysm for the request and I hope yall enjoy!!😋💕

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🤍.

★ public service announcement

★ HE DON’T LET YOU PAY FOR SHIT

★ when you’re with him the only you gon need in that purse is ID and your phone

★ that’s it

★ if he catches you paying for anything, he’s taking the money from you and paying for it himself

★ don’t matter how much you wanna argue I promise you he not listening

★ the card in your purse? Confiscated.

★ the cash you have saved? It better stay saved.

★ I promise you this man is not playing with you at all when it comes to this

ミ★

It’s looking like the credit card you have ain’t good for nothing really.

You don’t have enough fingers and toes to count how many times you’ve been in this type of situation with your hardheaded ass boyfriend.

The both of you have been out all day. He wanted to spend the day with you since he barely gets to, with managing the mafia and all, so he decided to take you out. The only problem is…

You can’t look at anything for too long or he’s buying it.

AND, don’t ever say you’re buying anything cause he ain’t even entertaining that.

“Babe look at thissss!!” You pointed at beautiful white diamond anklet. You wanted it so badly because you knew it’d look gorgeous on you. So, you decided to get it. As Armando walked up to you, you were already talking to one of the sellers so they can retrieve the item for you.

“¿Qué le das a mamá?” He asked as he finally got near you.

“Esta tobillera aquí mismo... ¡es tan bonita!”

You practically skipped away to the cash register and started fishing for your card to pay.

Then your purse disappeared.

Just completely vanished.

You stood there for a moment, very confused, then you look over to see your boyfriend pushing your purse into his pocket and taking out his money to pay.

In cash.

The woman at the register was as wide eyed as you were watching this man casually count hundreds like they were ones.

“How much was it?” He asked.

“O-oh..! It’s $350 sir!” He handed her the money and all you could do was stand there and stare as he took the piece of jewelry.

“Come mama.”

He guided you, by resting his hand on your lower back, and took you to a nearby seat and told you to sit. When you did, he opened up the box with the anklet inside and took it off and began putting it on you.

All you could do is look at him.

When he was done, he stretched out your leg.

“Looks good mama..”

You smiled and agreed, thanking him.

“You don’t have to pay for me all the time you know.” Getting up, he pulls you up too and says, “yeah I do.. and don’t ever let me see you trying to pay for shit again? You hear me?” You couldn’t help the shiver that ran down you’re spine at his words, but you crack a small smile and nodded. “I’m gonna keep trying anyways but fineeeee..” He rolls his eyes at you and kisses you on the forehead and you both begin to walk out the store.

“Baby?” You call to him.

“Hm?”

“Can I have my purse back?”

“No.”

[GLOSSARY]

“¿Qué le das a mamá?” —“What you want mama?”

“Esta tobillera aquí mismo... ¡es tan bonita!” — “This anklet right here... it’s so pretty!”

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @armandosbabymama @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf @radioloom @butterflyybabe @dyttomori || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕.

ミ★

#🪸 :: 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 #armando aretas #armando armas #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #armando aretas x reader #armando armas x reader #jacob scipio #armando x reader

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officialunar · 2 months ago

Text

A deity and A man

This fanfic will be on deity!reader and just Lnd man’s because..I have yet to see anyone do this as often and maybe I can give it a try🙂‍↕️…

(I’m sorry yall i suck at aesthetics😭😭)

Warning:All fluff!

Sylus x Reader , Zayne x Reader ,Rafayel x Reader,Xavier x Reader! (All seperated)

Fanfic under cut!

The first time you encountered Sylus was unforgettable, mostly because he strolled into your quiet sanctuary like he owned the place. You were sitting on your favorite cliff, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when he appeared, his presence as bold as his white hair and piercing red eyes.

"So, you’re the deity I’ve heard so much about," he said, that cocky smirk plastered on his face. "I expected someone more... awe-inspiring."You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And I expected a little more humility from someone who clearly just crashed the party.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But really, what’s a powerful deity like you doing out here all alone? Don’t you have realms to rule or something?”

“Watching over mortals is a bit boring,” you replied, crossing your arms. “But it seems like you need to work on your entrance.”With a playful glint in his eyes, he leaned closer. “I think my entrance was just fine. You’re the one who needs to lighten up.”

---

Now, weeks later, he’s become a regular visitor, showing up as if it’s his right. Tonight, as you sit under a sky full of stars, he slides down beside you, settling in with that same familiar grin.“Another night of solitude, huh?” he teases, nudging you lightly. “I hope you’ve saved some entertainment for me.”“Only if you can keep up,” you shoot back, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a smirk.He laughs, leaning closer, the playful challenge hanging between you. “Oh, I like a good challenge. What do you have in mind?”

You ponder for a moment, then say, “How about a little wager? If you can make me laugh before midnight, I’ll grant you one wish.”His eyes widen with intrigue. “And if I can’t?”“Then you have to leave me alone for a week,” you counter, enjoying the game.“Deal,” he says, and the tension shifts, both of you aware of the stakes.

As the night unfolds, Sylus starts pulling out his worst jokes, ranging from terrible puns to absurdly exaggerated stories about his ‘adventures’ in the N109 Zone. You try your best to hold it together, but each ridiculous tale has you laughing harder than the last.“Alright, you win,” you finally admit, breathless with laughter as midnight approaches. “You’re better at this than I thought.”

He grins, triumphant. “Now, what’s my wish, oh great deity?”You lean in, a mischievous glint in your eye. “How about you start by never calling me ‘great’ again? It’s just cringe.”He laughs, a deep, genuine sound that fills the night air. “I think I can live with that... for now.”

I’m sorry guys this is the only gif I found🥲🥲

Your first encounter with Xavier is when you floated through the abandoned warehouse, doing a routine check on the realm of humans when you stumbled across a familiar sight: A weird man , sprawled out on the floor, snoring softly. His greyish-white hair glowed faintly in the dim light, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is this really how Deepspace Hunters do their jobs?” you said, voice smooth and teasing. He cracked one eye open, blinked at you, and promptly went back to sleep. (Sleeping beauty core??)

“Hey! Wake up! There’s a Wanderer nearby!” “Mmm, five more minutes…” he mumbled, rolling over. You sighed, shaking your head. “If you don’t wake up, you’re going to become its breakfast.” He jolted awake at that, leaping to his feet. “Why didn’t you say so?” He grabbed his sword and looked around, still half-asleep.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he took down the Wanderer with a flurry of sleepy strikes, yawning between swings. It was a chaotic dance of light and snoring, and somehow it all worked out.

- - -

Fast forward to now, you find yourself lounging in his apartment, a divine being sharing space with a hunter who’s currently napping on the couch. You watch as he shifts in his sleep, mumbling about “no more Wanderers” and “just five more minutes.” You lean over, poking him. “Xavier! Time to wake up!” He opens one eye lazily. “Is it a divine emergency?”

“Only if you consider missing breakfast a crisis.” He grins, stretching like a cat. “Good enough reason to wake up. What’s on the menu today?” “Pancakes, if you can manage to stay awake long enough to eat them.”

“Challenge accepted,” he smiles, and with that, he sits up, looking more awake but still a bit groggy. You can’t help but smile at his half-asleep charm. “Just promise me you won’t nap through the cooking.” “Only if you promise to keep the pancakes divine,” he replies, and you both laugh, the playful banter filling the room as you start breakfast together.

(Ah..next one,my favourite..I swear I’m not bias🥹👍)

The reason you visit Dr. Zayne Li—or rather, insist on popping into his life at the most inconvenient times—is a bit… unconventional. As a deity, you’re technically there to “watch over” him. After all, every mystical Foreseer needs a divine overseer, right? Or at least, that’s what you tell him when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at your appearances. You’re meant to ensure he doesn’t stray from his destined path or, perhaps more accurately, doesn’t “forget” to relay prophecies or handle those icy, mystical duties Astra assigned him in the Tower of Thorns.

But, in truth, it's not just about cosmic obligations. There’s something about Zayne’s rigid, always-in-control demeanor that just begs for a little mischief. Maybe you’re a bit of a troublemaker (for his own good, of course), or maybe you simply find it amusing to see a doctor—always so precise and serious—dealing with the unexpected interruptions of a deity who shows up to “check on him.”

Sometimes, you claim it’s to make sure he’s managing that balance between mortal work and mystical duty properly. Other times, you vaguely mutter something about “divine energy alignment” while he just stares at you, unamused. The truth is, you’re always a little curious about this stubborn, hardworking doctor who treats his patients with such dedication but himself with nothing short of reckless neglect.

Though you’ll never admit it, seeing Zayne unphased by both heart surgery and celestial visits from an actual deity gives you an odd sense of calm—even if that calm comes with a side of his barely-suppressed eye-rolls. So, you keep dropping by, claiming to ensure he’s fulfilling his duties. And maybe, just maybe, you’re checking on him for reasons you’d never confess to his face.

The first time you met Rafayel, you were just a deity wandering around as usual, doing whatever it is deities do between one world and another. And honestly? You were a little bored, as any immortal would be after centuries of staring at endless ocean waves and making sure they didn’t get rowdy.

But that day, you saw something unusual: a young Lemurian, barely more than a kid, washed up on the shore like some bedraggled fish. He was tangled in seaweed, sputtering and swearing in a way that—if you were being honest—was more adorable than intimidating. You crouched over him, tapping his cheek with a finger, and asked, “You look like a drowned fish, kid. Need a hand, or should I start looking for some lemon slices to go with you?”

In response, he cracked open one eye, scowling like a wet cat, and muttered, “Who’re you calling a fish?”

Fast forward, and you had him propped up against a rock, offering him your limited (but highly entertaining) medical expertise. “Pretty lucky I was in the area,” you said, taking full credit for an accident of fate. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Rafayel,” he said, with as much dignity as a sea-sodden kid could muster.

“Cute name. Sorta like ‘fish fillet’,” you mused. He made a sound like he was trying not to laugh—or choke.

And just like that, Rafayel became your first-ever Lemurian “friend.” Over the next few years, whenever you were in the mood for company, you’d find him, or he’d find you. He’d grown out of his fishy awkwardness and into a young god of mischief himself. The Lemurian civilization saw you both as mythical, larger-than-life beings—until, of course, humans got involved, greedy as usual, wanting the blood of Lemurians for eternal life and all that jazz. You saw Rafayel change, his trust in humanity hardening into something darker, his artistry taking on a sharper edge.

But somehow, he never lost his humor or his bratty attitude with you.

- - -

The next time you run into him, it’s pure luck—or destiny, if you want to give it a fancy label. You’re strolling through Linkon City, admiring the odd human inventions they’ve come up with since you last paid attention. And just like that, you find yourself at Whitesand Bay, standing outside a sleek, modern art studio with a pretentious name you suspect he came up with in the middle of the night. Mo Art Studio,the sign reads. Classic Rafayel. You shove the door open and walk in without a second thought.

He’s perched on a ladder, painting the highest reaches of a canvas, looking like he just stepped out of an angsty artist’s dream. His purple hair’s mussed, and he has paint smeared across one cheek, which, you note with satisfaction, he hasn’t even noticed. You clear your throat, and he almost loses his balance, swearing under his breath as he catches himself.

“Well, if it isn’t the original fish out of water,” you say, crossing your arms with a grin.

He slowly turns, narrowing his eyes. “You.I thought you’d finally gone off to meddle with someone else’s civilization.” He smirks, hopping off the ladder, wiping his paint-streaked hands on his dark pants. “I see some things never change.”

“Neither do you,” you retort, making a show of studying him. “Still look like a kid I’d throw a fish at just for fun.”

“And you still look like you don’t belong on dry land,” he shoots back, with that tsundere spark in his eye. “You realize you’re disrupting a masterpiece in progress, don’t you?”

“Oh, is that what this is?” You pretend to admire the half-finished painting behind him. “Looks more like a disaster in progress, to me.”

His grin twitches. “What would a storm deity know about art? Stick to making trouble for fishermen or whatever you’re doing these days.”

You step closer, tapping a finger against the crimson coral in the corner of the canvas, looking at him knowingly. “This coral… it’s still soaked in blood, isn’t it?”

He raises an eyebrow, unbothered. “You catch on quick.” Then he leans forward, lowering his voice. “Let’s just say it’s a way of reminding certain… patrons of their crimes.”

“Not a grudge,” he says lightly, flashing that roguish grin. “Just selective justice.” Then he pauses, tilting his head at you. “I’m curious—what brings you here? Did the ocean get boring without me?”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes. “I just wanted to see how you’re holding up. Maybe witness the mess you’ve made of ‘modern’ civilization.” You give the painting another once-over. “I gotta say, Rafayel, revenge art? Bold choice.”

You grin. “Still holding grudges, I see.”

He shrugs, crossing his arms. “Art’s about making people feel something. And if it happens to make a few insufferable humans lose their minds, well… maybe that’s just a bonus.”You laugh, reaching over to ruffle his hair—just to annoy him. “Still such a brat, aren’t you?”

He swats your hand away, cheeks flushing just a bit. “And you’re still an annoying deity who doesn’t understand personal space.” He clears his throat. “But since you’re here, maybe you’d like to see what real art looks like up close.” He gives you a sly look. “Provided you can keep your opinions to yourself for once.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a free critique.” You wink, settling on his studio couch with exaggerated nonchalance. “Just don’t cry if I’m too harsh.”

(I’m sorry yall I had a bit too much fun)

#fanfic #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus qin #xavier love and deepspace #lads xavier #xavier x mc #xavier x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #doctor zayne #l&ds zayne #lnds zayne #zayne x reader #Rafayel #love and deepspace

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reallychaoticwoo · 4 months ago

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⛓️Here it is!! Part 2 to Ateez meeting y/n, a single mom⛓️

🎬Overview: Ateez members meeting you and your 4 year old daughter for the first time and what became of it.

‼️This is ended up being a two parter because me and my sister got carried away 😅😅

❤️Pairing: individual ot8 x reader

⚠️Warnings: Probably some cussing, some angst, anxiety, mentions of physical assult, mentions of abandonment from father. Please let me know if I missed anything!

✨️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way

🖤As always, I hope you enjoy!

Part one

San:

San was sitting at a table in a local bakery when he saw you and your small daughter walk in. Your daughter, immediately running up to the counter with awestruck eyes, was beyond ready to get her treat for behaving well today. Walking closely behind, you made it to the counter, placing your order and quickly finding a spot to sit. As you were unwrapping your daughters cupcake (which was light purple with heart-shaped sprinkles), you noticed your ex, her father, walk through the door. You immediately stiffen up, trying your best to remain calm so you don't startle your daughter. San, who was sitting on the other side of the bakery, notices your change in demeanor, and the man that just entered, mentally noting it for later. Your ex turns spotting you and your daughter. Walking your way, he stops on the other side of the table, glaring daggers at you. "Oh, so you are alive? Is there any reason you keep ignoring my calls, then y/n?" He asks harshly. You gulped, fear already washing over you as you pulled your daughter tightly into your side. "You know exactly why I'm not answering. I will not be having this talk with you in front of her." You said through gritted teeth, trying to keep a steady voice. Walking around the table to your side, he grabbed your wrist hard enough to leave bruising, trying to pull you out of your seat. "Fine, then let's go talk outside, and you can explain to me why you're keeping my daughter away from me you selfish bitch." Your daughter saw him pulling you. He looked evil in her eyes, and she knew she needed to find help and fast. Scanning the bakery, she spotted a large man drinking his coffee, and she ran to him. "Can you please help?" She begged, pulling at his shirt frantically, "my mommy needs help, my dad.. he's hurting her! Please help her!" San wasted no time following the little girl out of the bakery where he found you. Your ex had you pinned against the wall, shaking you by your shoulders, words of venom spewing at you. Just as he raised his hand, San stopped it mid swing, pulling the man back and locking his arm behind him firmly. "I don't think you want to be doing that. You should no better than to hit a woman, and in front of a child?? Fucking pathetic." San was seething at the man. San shoved your ex against the wall, his grip firm against the collar of the man's shirt, his eyes dark with anger. "Touch her again, and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do. Actually, while we're here, give me your phone." San said, taking the man's phone directly from his pocket. He threw the phone on the ground, shattering it. "Don't let me catch you so much as trying to contact either of them, or I will end you. Do you understand?" San asked, pushing the man further into the wall. Your ex just nodded, fear filling his eyes. San threw him to the side, and he ran off, leaving his shattered phone behind. You looked at San, shock and awe plastered across your face. "Mommy, that man saved us! He's a superhero!" Your daughter said, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Yes, I suppose he is." You smiled down at your daughter. "Thank you for that." You directed at San. "Is there any way I can repay you? Please, let me at least take you out to dinner." You offered him. "How about I take you to dinner instead? Make sure yall are at least safe for the night." He replied, smiling warmly at you and your daughter.

Mingi:

Walking out of an anime shop, Mingi feels something violently tugging at the bottom of his shirt. Looking down, he sees a little girl sobbing up at him. "I lost my mommy. Can you please help me find her?" She asks him between sobs. Panic sets in immediately. He's not prepared for this kind of situation, and he's never had to help a child find their lost parent. "Uh, yeah. Where's the last place you saw your mommy?" He said, looking down at the girl wearily. "I - I don't member. I was on the exlavater, and she wasn't there." The small child said sobbing harder, looking up to the tall man. She wiped her tears on her arm before reaching both hands up and asking to be picked up. Mingi picked the child up, holding her about 6 inches away from his chest. He did not know what he was doing, and it showed. The girl slowly reached her hands out, pulling herself closer so she could be held comfortably. Mingi scanned the mall, trying to find someone who looked like they may be missing their child. Not finding anyone, he sighed to himself. "Okay, okay, um, why don't we go to the toy store? Maybe your mommy could be looking for you there." He said, extremely uncertain of his own idea. "Shit, okay, um, I'm sorry, kiddo, I'm not really sure how to help you.." He said, looking around the toy store, fighting back tears of his own. Mingi was absolutely in over his head. He wasn't around kids often, and he didn't know how to stop them from crying. "Ooo, you said a bad word. You gotta put 5 dollars in in the swear jar!" The little girl giggled at him, her tears starting to still. "Oh fuck I'm so sorry!" He said quickly. "Shit I did it again. Crap I'm just gonna stop talking!" He said, smacking himself in the face. The little girl was giggling loudly now, "That's three 5 dollars now, Mr!!." Her giggles calmed his nerves some, his shoulders relaxing a little. "It's Mingi to you, little missy. And okay, fine, instead of the swear jar, why don't we find you a toy while we wait for your mom to find you." He offered. "Otays Minki!!" She replied, sounding a lot happier than when she originally found him. As they were leaving the store, your daughter in his arms, and about 5 stuffies in hers, you spotted them. "Baby!! There you are!! Fuck, Mommy was so worried!!" You said, a huge sigh of relief escaping your lips. "Ooooo, mommy, that's 5 dollars!" Your daughter said, giggling, looking at Mingi knowingly. "You heard the little lady, 5 dollars mom." Mingi said, joining in on the laughter. "Thank you for keeping her safe and for all the toys?" You shot him a questioning look. "Uh yeah, that may have been my swear jar money, sorry about that." He said, feeling only a little guilty. You laughed slightly, "Okay, well, we need to finish shopping, honey. Let's go." You said to your daughter. Her grip on Mingi tightening. "Nooo I wanna stay with MinKi!!" She protested. Mingi looked at you, shrugging his shoulders big grin on his face. "Well I've got time. Where to?" He asked. Your daughter shot you a cheeky smile.

Wooyoung:

It wasn't very often that the fair was in town, and your daughter just HAD to go this year. She had been begging you to take her ever since you drove past it one day on the way home. Today was the day you caved. Walking hand and hand into the fair grounds, her eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. After taking her on some of the more kid friendly rides, you were walking past the game booths on the way to go grab her a snack. She stopped you, tugging on your hand, "Momma! Momma! I want that stuffie! It's HUUGGEEE! Momma, pleaseeee." She was begging, her lip pouting, and her eyes full of hope. "Baby girl, mommy would have to spend the rest of her money to be able to win that for you, and we still need to go get a snack." You said, walking away from the game holding her hand. She looked back at the stuffie longingly as she followed you to a nearby concession stand. Wooyoung had overheard the whole exchange as he was at the booth already, and he decided he was going to win the stuffie for the precious little girl, and maybe even a matching one for her pretty mom. As you and your daughter sat down at a small table beginning to eat, Wooyoung approached you, stuffies in hand. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear this cutie wanted a stuffie." He said with a big smile and kind eyes. "My brother is only a little older than you, and I always get him a stuffie when he comes with me. He wasn't able to come today, so I thought, since you wanted the big one so badly, that I'd get it for you." He handed your daughter the gigantic stuffie. "ITS SO FLUFFFYYYYYYYY!!" She screamed, hugging onto the large unicorn like her little life depended on it. "I also got one for your pretty mommy." He said before handing you a large stuffed black cat you had been eyeballing earlier. You blushed at the compliment and thanked him. "Would you like to sit with us for a bit? I'm sure this little one would just love to hear all about how you won the biggest stuffed toy at that booth." You said with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sure she would." He replied with a smirk of his own, sitting down across from you.

Jongho:

You tried your best to be prepared as possible. Packing snacks, activities, and even books in your carry-on. But a couple hours into your flight back home, your daughter was absolutely not having it. You were stressed, to say the least. Tired as you hadn't slept the night before making sure everything was packed and ready after your daughter finally went to sleep. She'd been having a hard time sleeping lately, and you knew it was because her dad decided to just up and leave 6 months ago. Noticing your struggles, a man in the row behind you tapped your shoulder. "I hope I'm not bothering you, but I can tell you're exhausted, and I was wondering if I could be of any help? I'd be glad to hold her for a little while so you can get some rest." He offered, his smile was gentle and sincere. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. We'll be okay. Thank you.. uh, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You replied, waiting for him to answer. "Jongho," He said with a smile. "And it's really no problem at all. I'm pretty good with kids. They think I'm a teddy bear." He added with a small chuckle. "Well, if you're sure you don't mind. I'd really appreciate it." You said with a smile and a sigh, handing him your daughter who happily went to him. Not even 15 minutes later, your eyes were closed, and your breathing evened out, sleep had fully embraced you. Jongho sat with your daughter, keeping her entertained until she started rubbing her eyes. "Are you tired?" He asked her. "Yes.. but I don't like sleeping, " she replied with a sad look on her face. "Why don't you like sleeping?" He asked, looking at her questioningly. "Cause.. sometimes when I sleep I dream that daddy is leaving again.. he used to sing me to sleep but he doesn't anymore." She told him. The look on her face almost brought tears to his eyes. "Would you like me to sing you to sleep? It's important to sleep when your body is tired." He looked at her while she considered his offer. A second later, she was climbing into his lap and snuggling into his chest. He sang softly to her, rubbing the top of her back lightly. She was out in a matter of minutes, snoring into his chest, drool pooling on his shirt. He just smiled to himself, glad he could help you both get some rest. About 30 minutes away from landing, you woke up turning around to check on your daughter. Jongho put a finger to his mouth, smiling at you, silently telling you not to wake her. You mouthed a thank you, and he nodded. Once you had landed and your daughter was awake, he handed her back to you. "Thank you again. You don't know how grateful I am. I'm amazed you got her to sleep she's had a lot of late nights recently." You said while reaching for your carry-on. He helped you get it down, saying, "It was really no problem. She told me her dad used to sing her to sleep, and it's been a bit hard for her." You frowned, looking down at her then back to him. "Yeah, I figured that was what's been bothering her, but she wouldn't tell me anything besides having bad dreams. I thought it was just the nightmare phase. I should've known. Well, anyways, thank you again." Turning to walk off the plane, he tapped your shoulder once again, "If it would be okay with you, I can give you my number. That way, if she has trouble sleeping again, I can sing her to sleep like I did today. She deserves a good night's rest." He smiled down at the girl. She beamed at his offer, "Please, mommy! He has a pretty voice, and I didn't have any nightmares when I fell asleep this time!" You giggled at her enthusiasm. "That'd be wonderful, thank you so much, you are too kind." You said, handing him your phone with a grateful smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🖤 A - tiny tag list (see what I did there 😉)

@evis-gossip @yeosangcutie0615

#ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fluff #choi san #san fluff #mingi x reader #san x reader #mingi #mingi fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung #jongho fluff #jongho x reader #jongho #ateez drabbles

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 years ago

Text

Bad Dreams

Re4R!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Reader

Summary: Leon has really bad nightmares after Spain, so you try to comfort him. This is just pwp

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), p in v, brief fingering, riding, praise kink, slight somnophilia (she was already awake but hella sleepy), creampie, soft!dom leon, Leon has a mouth on him, the s in leon s kennedy stands for slut, leon has unresolved PTSD, language, established relationship, no use of y/n

WC: 2.3k

A/n: yall mfs are probably like but lia can u pls stop with the Leon shit. And my answer is no. I'm gonna write about that man until I get burn out of him. And since DI is coming out in July yall better get used to him. So yeah in the meantime while I finish my actual plot smut leon fics, here's this pwp to keep yall entertained, enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy Masterlist

Ao3 link (but like pls still rb and shit on here thank u)

Gif cred to this tumblr

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

Cold, a cold, gut wrenching chill ran through his entire body. He could feel it. He could feel himself start to lose control of his mind, of his body. He was frozen, stuck in his place. Only her screams drowned the voices. Her screams, they were deafening. Heart-wrenching. He needed to save her. He had to. But he couldn't. He couldn't save her. He couldn't fucking save anyone. Don't fight it. Just give in. Let it take over. Stop fighting. There's nothing to fight for. The screams. The fucking screams..

Leon—!

Leon's eyes shot open, and he sat up just as fast. Panting, chest glistening with sweat and his hair drenched. He blinked a couple of times as if he was trying to figure out if he was still dreaming. It wasn't dark or gloomy, his bedroom wasn't cold. He realized he was in fact in his bedroom, in his apartment, and he was still alive. He took a couple of long but shaky deep breaths as he ran a hand through his hair, moving in out of his face. He looked to his right side— shit.

"Leon..?" You were still half asleep, eyes squinted as you reached out to gently grab his arm, now sitting up as well.

"Sorry. Go back to sleep babe."

"Hey," You said, now a bit more alert as you rubbed your face with one hand, "was it another nightmare?"

A month. It had been a month since he came back from Spain. And almost every fucking night he was waking himself up halfway through the night, and by extension you. He felt bad. But you didn't blame him for it, he couldn't help it. Not that you could actually convince him of it though.

"Yeah." He shook his head dismissively, eyes not meeting yours. "I'm fine."

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?" You asked softly, seeing on the clock next to his side that it was only 3:00 AM.

"Don't think so." He muttered, still not looking at you. His hands were shaking a bit, and his breathing was still uneven, like he was counting his breaths in his head at an unsteady pace. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Leon…"

"I'm fine." He emphasized, a bit more harshly, hoping you could turn the other way and go back to sleep, to leave him to deal with his own issues. But he could never convince you of that either.

You frowned softly and without saying a single word you scooted closer to him until your chest was pressed to his arm. You left a kiss on his shoulder, and with your hand you turned his face in your direction.

"Baby, it's okay." You soothed softly, bringing your lips to his jaw. As you left kisses up his freshly shaved jaw you could feel the lock in his muscles loosen. "I'm right here. You're safe with me. You're okay."

He breathed unevenly through his nose, eyes shuttering as he turned his head fully, lips crashing against yours. Your soft gasp quickly turned into a satisfied hum. You parted your lips for him as his mouth captured yours, a large hand coming to rest at the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. You were still far too sleepy to match his intensity, but you allowed him to do as he desired. A soft grunt fell from his lips as he squeezed the back of your neck, tongue slipping into your mouth as his other hand irked up your exposed thigh— his old academy t-shirt doing very little to cover your lower half from his prying hand. But you didn't stop him, if anything you parted your thighs with ease. He groaned at this and without hesitation, he threw you over his lap, pulling you to sit on top of him.

"Mmm, you wanna ride me baby?" His tone was low, still slightly raspy from sleep, but he was anything but, he was wide awake, blue eyes big and full of need, desperate, desperate for your comfort and love. You were nodding in an instant. "Yeah? You think you can do that pretty girl?"

"Uh huh." You mumbled as you looked at him through half lidded eyes, not being able to help rubbing yourself against his clothed cock.

He exhaled unevenly through his nose, fingers squeezing your bare thighs as he lifted your hips enough to pull down your panties. He was settling you back on his crotch in an instant and you whined as soon as your clit brushed against the soft material of his boxer briefs. Leon hissed softly, bringing two fingers up to your lips. He raised his eyebrows at you, eyes commanding you without having to say the words. You happily parted your lips and he pushed the two fingers into your mouth. He hummed, watching you intently, lip pulled under his teeth as you coated his fingers with your saliva.

"Mmm yes, good." He hummed as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and instantly pressed his soaked fingers against your clit. He watched with pride as your lips fell open as he spread the wetness over the sensitive bud before he circled them around your entrance. "Fuck, did I tell you how much I missed this pussy? Wanna fuck this pussy so bad baby."

"Oh Leon— yes— please… Mhmm—!" His fingers slipped into your wet core with ease. The way he could so easily manipulate your body into submission, into needing him, it was beyond comprehension. But you didn't need to understand it. You just wanted him to use you for comfort, you wanted to make him forget. "Please Leon. Please let me ride you now."

His response was closer to a guttural groan than to any words, but he happily complied. His fingers left you as he attempted to tug down his boxer briefs, you lazily lifted your hips enough for him to pull out his cock. A heavy sigh left his lips as his cock slapped against his stomach. He reached to grab a hold of your hips, but you placed your hands on his chest and gently made him lie on his back. He looked at you with big eyes, a bit surprised by your eagerness, but fuck he'd be damned if he complained. A soft smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you clumsily and a bit messily position yourself above him, coating his cock in your slick.

"Ah— Shit, c'mon baby. C'mon." He spoke through exhales, trying his best not to force you down on his cock himself. But you were sleepy, so tired but still wanting to please him, you could take your time. And you did a minute or so later, he watched with parted lips as you slowly sank down on his cock until only a little bit was left, but he knew you couldn't fit all of him. "Ohhh yes. Yes good girl. Fuck."

"Oh— mhmm! Fuck Leon." You whimpered, nails digging into his chest as you rocked your hips, eyes already closed as you adjusted to the feeling of him before you were lifting yourself up enough to slam down on his cock, again, and again.

"Oh my sweet girl, you're doing so well," the praise came through a breathy moan, his eyes only half lidded as he watched you bounce on his cock, one hand gripping your hip and his other arm was behind his head. "Mhmm yeah, fuck yourself on my cock baby— ah— yeah, just like that."

You were trying, god you were fucking trying. Fucking yourself on Leon like your life depended on it, your moans almost as pathetic as your attempts at keeping up with the pace you both wanted and needed. Poor thing, you were holding for dear life, body over Leon's, clutching the arm under his head as your hips moved. And Leon? He didn't even look like he was breaking a sweat.

"Ugh— mhm fuck… Leon.." You were whining desperately into Leon's neck, every muscle in your body aching with heat. He could hear the shift in your voice, you weren't just whining, no, you were asking him. "Leon."

"What do you need, baby?" He moved your face from his neck, eyebrows furrowed with concern as he could feel your pace start to slow. "Why'd you stop?"

"'M sorry.. I wanna.." Oh, he got it. You wanted him to do it. A small smirk pulled at his lips. "Can you…"

"Oh pretty girl. Are you tired? I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry I woke you. But don't worry, I'm still gonna fuck you to sleep." He wrapped an arm around your torso, holding you firmly as he sat up. He moved to sit on his knees, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He snapped his hips, your body bouncing in his grip. Your face fell into his neck again, crying out when his cock brushed against that sensitive spot inside your walls. "Yeah, right there?"

Again, again, and again. He held you around his hips, making sure you felt each rock of his hips, and every time his cock hit your most sensitive spot.

"Yes! Fuck Leon— oh God— yes, don't stop please!"

You didn't even have to tell him. He'd be damned if he stopped before he could feel the squeeze of your tight walls, before he could hear the lewd sound of his cock slapping against your wet cunt. Never. He'd die first. He held you tight, one arm still firm over your back, pressing your chest against his, while the other hand was deep in your hair, pulling just as hard as you were pulling his.

"Mhmm I wouldn't dream of it, baby. Not gonna stop until you're screaming my name, shaking when you come— ah— can already feel it." He moaned every word, his own need for release slipping. Only you could make him lose control like this, only you could be both his instability and his comfort. It made you want to give in, all of yourself, to him. "Look at you, holding me so tight, taking me so fucking well. God. You're so goddamn perfect— agh—"

"Mmmm please… please Leon, I wanna come." You were whining the words into his neck, nails digging into his back as you held on for dear life, his punishing thrusts not once letting up, only getting you closer to falling apart.

"I'm gonna make you come, don't worry." He breathed out a laugh, lips pressed to your hair as he sneaked a hand between your bodies, slick fingers pressing down on your swollen clit. It didn't take much more for you to fall into a shuddering fit of sobs, nails digging into his shoulder blades and toes curling as your wetness seeped around his cock. "Mhmm yes, fuck yes. Good girl."

He used his other arm to pull your body up as it slouched against his chest. He only chuckled breathlessly as your body gave out on top of him as soon as you orgasm washed over you. He held you firmly as he drilled into you, now chasing his own release. His eyes were screwed shut, blonde hair sticking to his forehead as he pressed his face into your chest, rasped whimpers falling from his lips.

"Ahh— Fuck, your pussy— God— can't get enough of it. I don't ever want to leave this room. You're the only good thing in this fucked up world. The prettiest— mhm fuck." He knew he all he was saying is nonsense, and he knew you weren't fully listening, still half asleep and utterly fucked out, but you were still conscious enough to whimper his name. Like weak praises, weak and pathetic, but fuck, it was the prettiest sound he'll ever hear. "Shit. Fuck. Gonna come baby— ah yes— say my name just like that. Mhmm fuuuck."

Leon held you down on his cock, hips slightly twitching in aftershock as he spilled himself inside you with a guttural moan of your name that almost made you want to come again right then and there. It was silent for a long while as you simply held each other. His face on your chest and yours on top of his mess of bed/sex hair, and he was hugging close, damn near bear hugging you. You didn't want to move him. You knew if there was something he needed in this world was to feel safe. And you would burn the whole world just to give him that.

"Thank you." You finally heard his voice, it was mumble, almost muffled by your (his) t-shirt. You irked up an eyebrow, eyes hooded as you opened them to look at him.

"For what?" You mumbled quietly, sleep and tiredness slowly taking over you again. He lifted his head, there was this tiny smile on his face. He moved you both around until he was laying on his back again and you were laying on his chest, only then he answered.

"For making me feel… safe." He paused for a few seconds before saying the word, and you could hear the lightheartedness in his voice. Like he no longer felt that tug on his chest, or that pull in his head. For now at least. "I'm never going to forget the things that I've seen and done, I might have nightmares for the rest of my fucking life, but… when I'm with you I feel like.. Like I can breathe so.. Thank you."

You rested your hands on his chest as you leaned up enough to press a kiss to his lips. It was slow, gentle and loving. He had only started to learn about those things when he met you.

"I love you Leon." You sighed happily, nuzzling your face into his neck. He hummed softly, inhaling the scent of your hair, the fresh lavender and vanilla comforting him in the best way possible. He pressed a kiss to your hair and closed his eyes.

"I love you. And I don't think you'll ever understand just how much you mean to me."

He had nightmares every night, every night since Raccoon City. But on some nights with you, he would sleep through the night happily.

#leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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wafywaify · 16 days ago

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continuing the shen yuan street singer au because it's been eating my brain ever since I posted the first part. part 1 incase u missed it!

Okay, this could've gone a whole lot worse!! But he has some leeway here!! Look.. as long as he just keeps singing.. he cant come up to him..? Its rude to ruin a performance, everyone knows that! Surely if he just.. goes on for a few more songs the protagonist will get bored and leave!! Nobody cares that much. ..right?

Finishing off his fifth song, Written in your heart, by of course, barbie princess and the pauper, he huffs a few breaths before opening his eyes. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. He looks up to see.. Binghe.. still staring at him. Unmoving. At this point, hes unable to stop the small scowl from forming on his face. And its clear Binghe catches it, with the way he perks up an eyebrow. Why is he even still here!? He can't be that upset, can he?

A shiver runs down his spine at the imagining of.. whatever binghe wants with him. Probably some type of scathing revenge for blowing him off so easily. He looks around the crowd, just now noticing almost more than half had already left! There were really only a few stragglers and.. him. The tip jar he set on a stool was almost full.

Apparently, he'd paused for a bit too long.. the rest of his crowd were leaving!! Wait, no!! Don't leave me here with the emporer!! Oh gods, he's totally dead. Goodbye cruel world! It was fun while it lasted..

With an admittedly rushed pace, he begins packing up his things and dumping his jar of coins into his satchel before throwing it over his shoulder. With a swish, he turns back around, ready to all but sprint to the exit if he has to, before hes fully stopped with a hand to his shoulder. A very strong, very big.. very.. very handy hand. A hand that most definitely will... tear off limbs. He can feel his entire body stiffen and he winces, bracing himself before looking up.

"Yes, my lord...?"

Thank the gods his voice didn't falter! If it had he might as well have buried himself before binghe had the chance to.

It seems like time had stopped then. Binghes eyes roamed over his face for a few before smiling. A chill runs down his spine.

"You have an interesting voice."

...what?

"Ah- uh.. thank you, my lord.." He mutters out before he can stop himself. This wasn't at all what he had thought would happen. Perhaps he's just trying to get a good read on him? To see if he's even worth his time????

Binghe just hums before.. turning around and leaving? Just like that? So.. was he really not here for him, then? Did he really just want entertainment..? At a bar..? He stays still in place, watching the taller man walk towards the exit. He stops, placing a hand on the door before looking back.

"Next time, don't ignore this lord." He huffs out, voice somehow teasing yet still.. threatening. A clear undertone there. "I won't be as lenient."

Ah, there it is. He is totally fucked.

oki thats all for now!!! I rlly hope yall like this au as much as I do loll. I'm definitely going to continue this and post little snippets about it here and there!! If/when I start actually writing it as a fanfic, should I post chapters as I go or just wait till its fully finished to post??

#svsss #shen yuan #luo bingge #luo binghe #ao3 #shen qingqiu #the scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #singer shen yuan au

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crackedpumpkin · 1 year ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟏 |

a/n: about fucking time lol im so exhausted. hope yall enjoy <3

Warnings: Contains cursing

AU Inspo: Soulmates can hear each other listening to music. The further the distance, the softer the music. The closer, the louder until they find each other.

| [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ] |

— — — — — — — — — —

“Soulmates are essential to survive. There is nothing like the sensation of meeting each other for the first time, and subsequently knowing that you’re fated to be with each other forever. Through thick and thin, they'll always have your back.”

You snort. Miss Grenadine lifts her brow into a delicate arch, her unamused expression remaining the same as you cover your mouth, trying to fake a cough. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class on your last day?”

People around you start to snigger, and you can feel the glances poking your skin like tiny mosquitoes buzzing all over. “Not really.”

“No, no. Please, enlighten me as to what exactly you find so amusing about soulmates.”

“Maybe it’s because she hasn’t found hers yet?” Another classmate suggests. You turn around to see Henry smirking, high-fiving the rest of his friends who’re evidently entertained by his jab.

You roll your eyes, letting a huff slip past your lips. “And you keep arguing with yours, no wonder I’m not jealous that I don’t have one yet.” His friends suck in a sharp breath between their teeth in a hiss, glancing warily between you both.

“Thank you for your input, Henry. But I asked your classmate, not you.” He’s silenced from uttering another word under Ms Grenaline’s sharp gaze, wilting into his seat with a muttered retort under his breath.

You turn your attention back to your teacher who’s waiting patiently, hands folded over her stomach in a motherly manner. But you know better. This is fake sympathy, flaky pity in her eyes as she thinks to herself how unlucky you are for not having yet met your soulmate.

You get it. You’re an anomaly. It’s ‘not normal’ for people to not yet meet their soulmates by the time they’re 18. One way or another, the universe always finds a way to pull two people together by the age of 16. Yet, you’re the exception.

“I just think the whole music thing is annoying. I mean, do you all not get annoyed? What if you hate metal, but they love it? Even then, it’s just insane how much our lives border on needing someone. Why not just travel alone? Enjoy life?” You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms defiantly as Ms Grenaline’s eyes widen with every word.

You watch her take a moment to compose herself, plastering a smile on her face as she comes up with the right words to say. Honestly, you couldn’t care less what she wanted to say to you; it’s your last day here anyway.

“Well,” She pauses, clearly struggling on how to phrase her words in a way that wouldn’t get you to retort once again, “It’s…a very difficult process to describe in words. I understand where you’re coming from with the music aspect, but over time just like how one day you can wake up and decide that you like the colour purple, you’ll experience something similar.”

“You’re right.” You nod. She’s momentarily taken aback by your agreeable response, only to frown when you continue speaking. “It is a difficult process to put in words. And you know what? Maybe not everyone needs a soulmate.” You flash her a toothy smile just as the bell rings, grabbing your bag and starting for the door. “Been good, Ms G.”

You don’t turn to see her reaction, focused on getting to the diner on Sixth Street where you’d promised to meet up for one last meal with your friends before you moved to Ninjago City. Putting the earbuds into your ears makes you wince, shaking your head slightly as the familiar yet nauseating sound of jazz plays faintly in the back of your mind.

Stupid jazz, stupid music, stupid soulmate.

Right. Your soulmate. You still haven’t told anyone this, but a few months ago, you began to hear the faint sounds of smooth jazz play now and then in your head. You thought you were just going crazy at first, but upon further observation, you concluded that there could only be one cause: Your soulmate was nearby.

But for some annoying reason, your soulmate loves jazz with a passion. it was always either that or soft rock. Plus, they’re always annoyingly far enough to not have it impounded into your head, but still close enough to have it constantly on repeat in your head.

The day it first started, you had just finished watching a horror movie and were about to go to bed. However, your soulmate had decided that 5 AM was the perfect time to start listening to soft rock. The sharp twangs of an electric guitar and the steady beats of the drums were enough to keep you up instead of getting your beauty sleep.

lil binder [ 02:00 PM ]: u otw yet?

You grin at the message on your screen, typing out a reply to your friend, Melody, as pop music blasts away through your earbuds and effectively drowning out the beginnings of a saxophone.

smartie pebble [ 02:00 PM ]: yea be there in 7

Melody was just one of many of your friends. She had found her soulmate at the tender age of 15, accidentally spilling ice cream on him because she had been too distracted talking to you. Having bore witness to the entire ‘love-at-first-sight’ moment between them, you scooched away as she proceeded to forget about your entire existence in the next hour.

However, now Luke and her were inseparable, and wherever she was, he was bound to be there too. Luckily though, you had bonded with him over your mutual love of cooking, with Melody constantly being on the receiving end of many of your competitive inventions.

“Yo, it’s the one and only rockstar of our generation!” Luke crows as you enter the diner, and you instinctively stick up your middle finger at him. He grins, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you set down your bag in the booth seats.

“About time you got here.” Brendan greets, subtly nudging Nico who glances up from his game for a moment to say a quick ‘hi’. The former is in his uniform as usual, while Nico decided to change out of his, relaxed vest and tapered pants his go-to outfit.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Nico arches an eyebrow, though his gaze is focused solely on the rhythm game on his screen.

“Let me guess, you got into another argument about soulmates again.” You look up to see Melody arrive at the table with a large tray of food, tucking away the strings of the apron around her waist. “When will you learn that it’s inevitable?” She sighs, pinching the skin between her eyes and shaking her head in disapproval.

“Maybe it’s because she’s around us too much,” Luke pouts, snaking his arm around her waist. She grins, ruffling the top of his head.

“Please, for the love of the First Spinjitzu Master, make it stop,” You groan, pretending to gag and narrowly dodging the packet of chilli she throws in your direction. Picking it up, you tear it open and squeeze out the sauce, dipping the fries into it and eating them with relish.

“So, what’d Ms Grenaline say this time?” Luke focuses his attention on you, letting go of Melody who slides into the seat next to him. Nico steals a fry, munching away even though his meal is right in front of him. He even put away his phone, eagerly waiting to hear what new fight you’d gotten into today.

“She just said some shit about soulmates being essential to survive. Y’know, the usual mumbo jumbo.” You shrug, unwrapping the double cheeseburger and taking a bite.

“Sounds about right to me.” Melody raises her hands in surrender once you glare at her. “But hey, who am I to judge? Definitely not because I have a soulmate, and definitely not because he’s right next to me.”

“You’re so right.” She rolls her eyes at your automatic reply, barely audible through the massive chunk of pickle in your mouth.

“I know your family’s kinda complicated, but it doesn’t have to affect your outlook on soulmates forever. Besides, aren’t you moving to the city for your stepmom? That’s kinda progress.” Brenden volunteers his opinion, sipping away at his diet coke. “Don’t you glare at me young lady, you know perfectly well why you’re going. You like her.”

“As if,” you scoff, forcing down the last bite of lettuce and crumpling the empty wrapper. Melody doesn’t blink an eye at how fast you’ve consumed the burger, already having seen it for at least 6 years.

“She got you the signed copy of Black Beauty, remember?” Nico says quietly, tilting his head. “And besides, you haven’t fought with her in a long while.”

You bite back a retort, hating how right he is. It’s been at least three months since you’d gotten in a fight with your stepmother - the longest duration so far. “Look, she can try to bribe me all she wants, but I’m going to quickly get through school and move out so I can travel away from her.”

“Mmhm. You’d have a good chance, considering that you got into Business Relations at Ninjago University, so…” Your friends go quiet at the mention, as if just realising that you’re leaving tomorrow morning.

“I’ll be back for summer vacation anyway,” you casually state, finishing off the fries with a satisfied grin. “With autographs from those ninjas you’re always raving about.”

“You promise? I’ll cut off your pinkie finger if it doesn’t come true. You know a pinky promise is legally binding.” Melody warns.

“I don’t know how you put up with her.” Luke shrugs as you turn to him, amusement in his eyes as he glances at Melody who’s still glaring at you.

“River time?” Brenden suggests, trying to lighten the mood. Melody nods, turning to face the kitchen staff behind the counter a short distance away.

“Hilda, I’m heading out!” She calls out, untying the apron and draping it on the seat as everyone leaves the booth.

“Fuck off!”

“Will do!” Melody grins slyly, gesturing to the exit. “Let’s bounce before she realises I didn’t clear the tables.”

“Love you too Hilda!” You shout back to the grumpy old lady with a fond smile, waving goodbye as you leave.

“River time! River time! River time!” You join in on their chanting, laughing without a care in the world - and ignoring the faint sounds of guitars and saxophones playing in the back of your mind.

— — — — —

The truth of the matter is, picnics by the river are among the top few activities you’d willingly leave the house for. After having a few drinks and getting up to a couple of shenanigans, your friends dropped you off at your place with tearful goodbyes.

Nico had refused to let go of your arm, citing ‘who would I hug when you’re gone?’ as the reason why. He had let go after you promised to hug him all he wanted when you came back. It was also then that you vowed to never let him drink again.

After showering and emerging from the steam with a clearer (and significantly less tipsy) mind, you make your way to the comfort of your futon, avoiding stubbing your toe on the luggage near the door. The moving company had already taken most of your stuff, and all that you have to your name now is a singular suitcase, a sling bag, and your futon.

You wriggle under the blanket, staring up at the ceiling and feeling the tiredness finally hit you with full force as your eyelids slowly close. The warmth draws you to sleep, dreams calling your name and reckoning for you to come into their embrace.

Unfortunately, your soulmate doesn’t like to sleep at 1 AM. Soft rock starts playing, and you press your face against the pillow to muffle your annoyed groan. You press the pillow on top of your face, wishing desperately for the music to stop, though you know it’d do nothing to help. Forcing your eyes shut and thinking of anything else to drown out the noise is the go-to method for you, and hopefully, it’ll work this time as well.

Stupid jazz, stupid music.

Stupid soulmate.

— — — — —

A quick Google search in the morning while you brush your teeth reveals a plethora of cafes in Ninjago City, all ready for you to explore. Accidentally clicking on a notification, however, brings you to a separate page where the headline of a news article practically screams at you.

‘Famous Author to make an appearance at Ninjago Museum Fundraiser! All proceeds from the auction are to be donated to preserve local history.

The bestselling author who goes by her pen name of Hanla will be making an appearance at the Ninjago Museum’s Fundraiser occurring next week. Locally curated pieces of artwork and a book of poems written by Hamla herself will be auctioned off. Hamla has also stated that 100% of all proceeds made in her name will be going toward the local conservation of Ninjago’s history. For all fans of her works - You, Me, and the Beat, Beauty and her Phone, and critically acclaimed bestseller Honey, Where Are My Pants?, be sure to stop by for an autographing session that Hamla will be attending! Our local heroes - the Ninja, will also be attending the session, so make sure to get your photos taken with them!’

“Are you ready yet? We gotta leave in an hour, Munchkin.” Your father calls out from downstairs. You pause to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth, gargling the residue and letting the menthol sting your lips after rinsing.

“Yeah, just gotta shower and I’m good to go.” You reply loudly, turning your attention back to the mirror. A round, puffy face stares back at you, eyebags apparent after only managing to fall asleep at two in the morning.

You really should stop drinking so late at night. Luckily, a shower helps to reduce the puffiness in your face, and you step out of your room looking somewhat presentable in a lavender hoodie and shorts.

The gentle sunlight shining through the bare windows breathed life into the room and the curtains that once decorated the small window seat. Where your bed once sat was empty with the polished mahogany wood underneath.

Endless nights of laying in your plush bed with your bedside lamp's dim yet warm glow seemed so distant in your memories. Your hand lingers on the doorknob, mumbling a soft goodbye before shutting the door and heading downstairs to where your father is waiting.

“Shall we?” He grins, placing the last of your luggage in the car boot. He closes it, offering a hand to you. You take it, allowing him to guide you to the front seat where the radio is already playing your favourite pop songs.

As he starts to drive, you’re momentarily distracted with taking the perfect picture for your Instagram story, singing along with your tone-deaf father who’s belting out ABBA as he drives past the massive signboard signalling goodbye. You watch it pass, fields and clouds dotting the sky moving by steadily.

It’d be a lie to say you wouldn’t miss home. But this is a chance at a new beginning - maybe one that could change your life for the better. As faint jazz starts up in the back of your mind, you smile softly. Not even that could dampen your mood.

— — — — —

You stir, eyes fluttering open at the annoying sound of drilling and construction. You blink a few times, sitting up from where you had slumped against the window while you slept. Your vision clears, and you move your hands away to see bright lights and skyscrapers galore around you.

You're here.

Ninjago City is filled to the brim with people and endless traffic. Your dad scowls at the long line of cars in front of him, glaring at the red light that seems to take forever to turn green. You fiddle with the games on your phone, focusing intently on beating the next level of Candy Crush.

You mumble a cuss when 'Game Over' appears on the colourful screen, and he immediately turns with a suspicious gaze. You smile nervously, trying to play it off as though you hadn't said anything.

Luckily, he turns back around, choosing to let it pass.

You stare out the window, watching the shops pass by in a blur until you spot one that catches your eye. “Dad, could you drop me off here?” He doesn't question your sudden request, making a turn and parking next to the sidewalk.

You open the car door and exit, looking up at the sign on the storefront.

'Ninjago Doomsday Comix'

“Emily’s already making dinner, so just meet us back at the new apartment.” He texts you the new address quickly, eyeing you suspiciously. “Be nice.” He warns, satisfied with the small nod you give in reply.

“Yeah, just gonna take a look around the place, y'know, before I get lost tomorrow.” You joke. You adjust the straps of your small bag before settling it in a comfortable position on your back.

“See you later then, munchkin. Call us if anything happens. Should be safe since those ninjas are around.”

Before you can question what he means, he drives off with all the rest of your luggage. You were lucky that your dad had visited the city multiple times on business trips and that he was primarily a hands-off parent.

“Right. Ninjas.” You mumble with a shake of your head, striding off toward the comic book store. The door swings open easily, a jingle catching you off guard. A man at the cashier counter greets you with a friendly grin that eases your nerves, and you walk up to him.

“Hi, do you know where to find Starfarer comics?”

“Well, right here, of course!” You cringe at his response, realising how poorly worded your question was. It elicits a chuckle from the man in front of you.

“Just kidding. I'm Rufus, Rufus McAllister, or you can call me Mother Doomsday. You're a new face around these parts. What's your name?”

“I just moved here, so maybe that's why." You reply, clutching the straps of your bag with a small smile at the friendly man and throwing in your name as well as an afterthought.

“Well, welcome to Ninjago City! I hope the city treats you well. We got the ninja protecting us, so that's added security too.”

“Right,” You smile emotionlessly at him. Is everyone here such big fans of the Ninja? Sure, Melody’s a fan, but not as much as bringing them up every chance she got. “Good to know.”

Rufus pauses with his lips parted, seemingly processing your words. A relaxed grin slowly forms on his lips. He glances towards a specific aisle, seemingly contemplating.

“It should be fine then….” He mumbles. You're just lost in where this conversation had ended up.

“Aisle Eight is where we keep the best-stocked Starfarer comics.” He gestures to the area he had been staring at earlier. You thank him with a brief nod, walking over.

The aisle is relatively empty, save for two other people. A blonde guy in a green hoodie is flipping through the latest issue of Starfarer with keen interest, engrossed in the colourful pages.

Next to him is another boy with slightly wavy and choppy black hair, the smooth and silky strands making you both envious and curious about his hair care routine. In contrast to his friend(you assumed), he regards you with a suspicious gaze.

Oh no. He’s hot.

You find it odd, feeling mildly unsettled by the intense stare he gives you. It wasn't a good one; more on the wary side than interested. You brush it off, ignoring the pair and scouring the shelves for issue number three.

You finally find the comic you're looking for, but it's directly opposite the pair.

After all, what would you be if not cursed with horrid coincidence?

You practically tiptoe over, clearing your throat slightly as you grab the comic book and start reading. Green Hoodie(Greenie, you decide to nickname) looks up in surprise, only now noticing your presence. Mr. Grumpy Pants(The nickname suits him perfectly), on the other hand, doesn't bother hiding the grimace on his lips at your presence, looking away.

You stiffen, eyes shifting into a glare.

Rude.

Greenie hits his friend's shoulder in a light punch, looking at you with an expression of apology. “She should be fine. Rufus wouldn't send anyone over here without vetting them first.” Greenie whispers to Mr. Grumpy Pants, referring to his earlier behaviour.

“Yeah, but what if they're…you know? I don't want another repeat of what happened with Jay.”

Oh. Oh. I see now.

You almost drop the comic book in your hands, caught off guard by how attractive Mr Grumpy Pants' voice is. You tense, now more aware of their presence. Even though you don't want to eavesdrop, you can't help how your ears practically perk up, hoping to hear more of the deep voice from earlier.

Plus, they weren't doing a very good job of keeping their conversation a secret.

“I trust Rufus. He's a good friend.”

“...Maybe.”

“Is that…? OMG! It's them!!”

You're interrupted from blankly staring at the same page for the past ten minutes, having focused on the conversation behind you, though the pair had stopped talking a while ago. You look up at the store's glass windows, startled by the sudden sight of a group of girls pressed against the glass, staring intently at the two boys behind you.

“Fuck.” You watch all the colour drain from Greenie's face while Mr Grumpy Pants smacks his palm against his face, sliding it down and sighing heavily with an utterly defeated expression.

"Not again…" You hear him mutter. “And watch your language,” He adds, elbowing Greenie who just sticks out his tongue. The girls grab their phones, snapping photos of them. You realise that you're probably in them, too, considering the lack of distance between you both.

"Girls, there's the door!!" The tallest and most commandeering of the group holds open the entrance to the comic book store, and they swarm towards it.

"Cole, run!!!" Greenie yells, taking off to the back door that Rufus quickly ushers them both through. You grab the issue of Starfarer that Greenie dropped on the floor in his hasty exit, watching the fabric of Cole's shirt almost get stuck in the doorway.

At least now you know his name.

You place both the comics back on the shelf, leaving with a quick wave to Rufus, who nods goodbye. You pull out your phone, look up directions to the apartment and slowly make your way there. You grab your earbuds, put them both in your ears and start your playlist from the beginning.

You're next to an alleyway, just steps away from a ramen store, when your arm is grabbed and pulled into an alleyway next to you. A yelp rips free from your chest, losing your balance and almost falling.

A strong and warm arm holds yours firmly, pressing you against the cold brick wall. Your eyes automatically squeeze shut when your back hits the wall with a grunt, opening your eyes to see Mr. Grumpy Pants from earlier.

What the everloving fuck-

His hand is pressed firmly against your mouth, and your hands curl into fists, summoning all the strength in your body to land a solid punch on his chest. He yelps, pressing his lips tightly together to silence himself. He glares at you, and you return it just as angrily. Your fingers close into fists, readying yourself for another punch, aiming for his jaw next.

He shushes you, and you only just notice his pinched brows and the shine of sweat on his forehead. He had tugged you behind a wall that separated into a small alcove, out of sight from the sidewalk you were on earlier.

"Turn that nauseating song off." Cole winces, muttering through clenched teeth. Your hands slow to a stop, confused by his words. He grabs your phone out of your hands, pressing pause on your beloved playlist before you can protest.

Your eyes widen in shock, staring up at his stupidly handsome face. His dark brown eyes are filled with the fear of being caught, and you catch yourself admiring the shaggy black hair that frames his face in the most annoyingly perfect manner.

Your mind races with incoherent thoughts, but one sticks out like a sore thumb.

Your soulmate's a celebrity?

For a celebrity, his music taste sucks ass.

"Am I getting kidnapped right now?" You voice out the most pressing concern on your mind, though it comes out muffled. He turns back to face you with an incredulous expression.

"You don't know who I am?" His voice is hushed, waiting for the horde of fangirls to run past your hiding spot. Your eyes narrow, pushing his hand off of where it's placed on your shoulders. You try to ignore the tingle his touch leaves behind that spreads to your hands and how his choppy bangs somehow manage to fall over his eyes in a somewhat attractive manner when he turns to face you.

"In the past twenty minutes, you've glared at me, been rude, and practically held me hostage," You snap at him, irritated by the lack of common human decency he seems to display. "And what do you mean nauseating? If anything, you're the one giving me headaches with that god-awful noise you call music that you play daily! I mean, who wakes up at 4 AM?? Only a psychopath, apparently."

You finish your mini rant, having reached the end of your already thinning patience with the boy in front of you. You pant slightly, trying your best to reign in your temper.

"Noise? Noise?? I could say the same for you! You're disturbing my sleep at night with those ear-splitting synths and breathy singing that sounds like they're on the verge of hyperventilation!" Cole retorts with thinly veiled disgust, taking a step back, dusting off his hands, and wiping them on his pants.

You eye the action, feeling insulted. Both of you stand in the alleyway, silently glaring at each other. Cole breaks the stare first, scanning the area behind him once he realises the fangirls are gone. You grin, elated at the quiet victory.

“You really gotta get more variety.” Your smile drops as soon as the words leave Cole's lips, and yours press into a thin line.

“Speak for yourself.” You can barely hold back another biting remark. If anyone were to see you now, they'd mistake you as enemies rather than the soulmates that you are.

He groans, rolling his eyes. You're tempted to ask what he does for a living but choose to stay silent. You shake your head, still in disbelief that you've found your soulmate. “Out of all people…” You mutter under your breath with a scowl.

“I could say the same. I don’t know how someone like you ended up as my soulmate.” He retorts, seemingly having overheard.

“I’m glad we share the same view then. At least that’s one thing we can agree on. Now, let’s make a deal. You go right, and I go left and we never run into each other again. Deal?” You propose, holding out your hand for a handshake. He eyes it for a solid moment, mulling over his decision. Instead of shaking your hand, however, he merely nods, crossing his hands over his chest. Your eyes narrow.

How insufferable.

“Looks like they’re gone.” He takes a moment to glance out of the alleyway, starting in the direction opposite and leaving you to your own devices. You continue to glare at his retreating figure, driving home your irritation by placing your earbuds back into your ears and hitting play.

Immediately, Cole's songs start playing in the back of your mind, much louder than before. You let out an irritated groan, turning to glare at his broad back. Curse his well-chiselled body and toned arms.

Stupid soulmate.

— — — — —

“So, how was your first day in town?” Your stepmother, Emily, sits down opposite you, taking out one of the hair clips she used to keep the bangs out of her face. Her hair is messy, tied into a ponytail and her skirt is stained with spaghetti sauce.

“Decent. Went to a comic book place.” You say through a mouthful. Your response is short, but it’s more than what used to be quiet dinners around a tension-filled dining table in the past.

“That’s good. Doomsday Comix, I assume?” She doesn’t flinch from your wide-eyed gaze, caught off guard by how eerily accurate her guess is. “I used to work there when I was younger. I hope you found the comics you were looking for. Starfarer, right?”

“Right,” You reply unsurely, spooning another bunch of pasta into your mouth. You forget that Emily had been born and raised in Ninjago, only having met your dad during one of her trips for ‘inspiration’. You and she had a rocky relationship, but one could say that you’re currently making progress - you think.

“Did you meet the ninja?” Your dad asks, taking some sliced-up steak on his plate and placing it on Emily’s. You eye the way she lights up at the action, a nauseating feeling beginning to stir in the bottom of your stomach. “I hope if you got in trouble, they got you out of it.”

“Oh yeah? What’re the ninja gonna do, spin me around till I get a headache?” You snort, chewing on an irritating broccoli stem that refuses to get chowed down on. “Mystify me to pieces? Bore me to death?”

The sarcastic jabs don’t phase your dad in the slightest. He shrugs, used to your disbelieving comments. “Just be careful out there still, okay? I know Ninjago City is safe but there are still pickpockets around and petty crimes.”

“Which is exactly why I called in a favour from an old friend.” Emily smiles softly at your father, but it fades slightly when she looks at you, uncertainty in her gaze. “He’s an instructor, and I’ve asked him to teach you self-defence so you can at least protect yourself.”

Your hand slows to a halt, the singular piece of spaghetti dangling off your fork as you blink owlishly at her. “I never asked for your help.” The words slip out before you can stop yourself, hurt flitting across Emily’s face before she composes herself, clearing her throat and picking up a piece of broccoli.

Aaand that’s a streak of 3 and a half months without being mean, gone.

“I just thought that maybe you should stay safe. Besides that,” You can sense the carefulness in her words, trying to choose the right ones to say. “I have an event coming up that I’d like you to attend. It’s a fundraiser, and I would like you to be there.” She pauses for a moment, looking from your father to you. “Both of you.”

“No thanks,” The clang of the metal fork against the porcelain plate makes her wince slightly at the harsh sound. You stand up with your half-empty plate, appetite vanishing just as quickly as a passing breeze. “I’m gonna head out. School stuff to catch up on and all.” You spot your father starting to stand up with a frown, only to stop when she places her hand on his arm and shakes her head sadly.

You ignore it.

Besides, you have a best friend to call.

— — — — —

“I think I met my soulmate today.” You instinctively pull the phone away from your ear just as she starts screaming.

“What? Where?? When?? How????? WHO???”

“Comic book store, today,” you reply, playing with a strand of your hair to distract yourself.

“Comic book store? Oh no, he’s a nerd.” The mock horror in her voice makes you suppress a defeated groan, picturing exactly how wide her smug grin is. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to inhale slowly. Damn. She remembers.

When you were younger, you had made a bet with Melody as to what kind of person your soulmate would be. Being the naive child you were, you had bet on him being a superstar.

Melody, on the other hand, had bet that you'd end up with someone the complete opposite of you. A secret nerd.

Even at the tender age of 15, she had already read countless romantic books filled with cliche tropes. Right now though, this knowledge is absolutely terrifying to you. You hear a sigh of satisfaction over the phone, lips curling into a frown. “I’m not going to do it.”

“You have to! We pinky promised. Plus, Todd’s back home and if you don’t want me to tell him about-”

“I’ll do it,” you groan, cutting her off from the effective threat. “The First Spinjitzu Master sent you down for just one reason and that was to make my life even worse.”

“Wait.” Melody says, “What happened to your whole spiel about ‘oh I hate soulmates and I never want to have one, bleh bleh bleh’ ?”

“First of all, that is not how I sound. Is that really how I sound to you??” You gasp. Maybe your whole stance against soulmates was getting a bit too much, even for Melody. “Besides, it’s nothing new. His stupid jazz started a couple of months back or something.” You grumble, deciding to collapse on your bed instead of pacing your room.

“And you didn’t tell me??” She says incredulously, her voice raised. You can hear a faint “What didn’t she tell you?” in the background, recognising the voice as her brother’s.

“Nothing!” She shouts back at him, “I expect details. Right fucking now.”

“It’s not much,” You sigh, looking up at your ceiling and letting your phone rest beside your head, her voice filling the quiet room through the speakerphone. “It came outta nowhere and honestly? If nothing happened, no way am I about to fly across the world just to see him. I have school. And homework.”

“You’ve never handed in a single piece of homework on time.” Her voice has a hint of accusation.

“What can I say? Moving gives you a whole new perspective on self-reflection.” You shrug nonchalantly, though you know she can’t see it.

“What’s his music taste?”

“Smooth jazz and soft rock.” You groan at her awws on the other end, “Yeah, let’s see if you still find that cute when you’re trying to sleep and he decides to blast music at 4 AM.”

“An early riser. Maybe he works out?” Melody’s wistful voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I sense dissatisfaction with your current soulmate.” Your snarky reply makes her chuckle.

“You wish. Luke’s gonna start going to the gym 'cause I said I liked his biceps last week.” She says with amusement, “Right, I have a date tomorrow. Should I wear the pink blouse or blue?”

“Blue.”

“Pink it is.”

“Why do you even bother asking me?” You say blankly, grinning when she barks out a laugh. “Have fun on your date.”

“Remember to get autographs!”

“I won’t if you don’t shut up and get to bed.” The call instantly concludes with a monotonous dial tone after you hang up, placing your phone on your table with a grin. You open your laptop with a new sense of purpose, searching for articles on the ninja. Your unfulfilled promise haunts you, knowing full well that although most of your friends thought it was a joke, Melody would be intent on at least fracturing your pinky finger if you didn’t get their autographs.

A sudden knock on the door startles you and your hands quickly close the laptop instinctively. The door slowly creaks open, and your dad steps inside. You turn away, pretending to busy yourself with tidying your desk with minimal clutter. “Is this about dinner?”

“Well,” you hear him hesitate. “Kind of. Look, it’d mean a lot to her if you went, y’know. Besides, the self-defence instructor we asked to teach you has already accepted.”

“Can’t you get a refund?” You finally turn to face him, lips parted to say more until you scan his face. Sunken cheeks and eyes filled with sadness stare back at you, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d be more open towards his wife. Towards her.

And just like that, your temper which had slowly begun to bubble up again at the mention of your stepmom dies down, left with nothing but wisps of resentment. You swallow down the lump in your throat, unable to meet his gaze.

“Fine. Tell Hamla that I’ll go to her charity fundraiser, whatever.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, while you focus on your fingers already picking away at the skin on your thumb. Tiny flecks of peeled skin land on the floor, invisible in the lack of light. The skin is red and raw underneath, but you can’t feel the pain, focusing instead on the repetitiveness of the action.

“Thank you, munchkin.”

The door closes without any further conversation, and the weight on your chest suddenly lifts. It’s still there, but significantly less than before. You close your eyes, hands curling into fists as you breathe out slowly but shakily. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

You open the laptop back up, allowing the bright screen to distract you from any further thoughts. The picture of the ninja fills your screen, one in a black gi catching your eyes. What was he again? The Earth Ninja?

Glancing at the closet, you mentally flit through your outfit options for the fundraiser. A thought nags away at your brain, as if on the edge of remembering one very important fact. You pull up the article from this morning, rereading it once more as it hits you, looking from the article to the picture a few times before your lips pull up in a slow smile.

Looks like you’d get their autographs sooner than you thought.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookestone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #ninjago x reader #cole ninjago #lego ninjago x reader

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tribalauthor · 11 months ago

Text

Needy Chief

(roman and y/n one-shot)

warnings: 18+, oral sex, unprotected sex, harsh sex, masturbation, edging, unconsciousness (kinda)

word count: 4k

Summary: Roman makes Y/N jealous and she decides to punish the Tribal Chief but does she succeed?

A/N: okay, this is my first one-shot and I hope yall like it :), error warning

gif by me

I am pacing around my room with the tip of my index finger in my mouth, biting it, barely being able to find a place and keep my sanity. Just a woman all prepared for her man- washed, shaved, moisturized and dressed up with his favorite red lacy lingerie since red is his favourite color and a short black kimono on the top because I feel cold from hatred.

But why am I pacing? Not because I'm nervous of my man who happens to be the face of whole sports entertainment, undisputed WWE champion for over 3 years and counting, people know him as the Tribal Chief, the Head of the Table, Roman Reigns. Nor the fact that the man in question is the most attractive man to walk on this planet, undisputed.

No. It's not that. I'm way over this. The problem is that he has an appearance on Smackdown tonight hence I made a plan to surprise him afterwards. I was getting all prepared and everything since I want to be perfect for him - to look good, to smell good, to taste good.

And what happens? I turn the show on the TV and there is him getting out of his black Jeep with his wise man. The WWE reporter, Kayla - that little woman with her perfect curls and pretty face anticipating with the mic in her hands. Then you have my man, Roman, getting out of the car after the wise man.

"What's going on tonight, Roman?" - Kayla asks. "Who will have the opportunity to face you next?"

And then he replied:

"You still seem not to get the things around here, babygirl. You don't "have" the opportunity to face me. You "win" this opportunity."

That's when I completely froze up.

He dared to call another woman "babygirl"? In front of me? In front of live television?

"He is so dead when he comes back" I thought and I'm still thinking it. I was thinking of making a great scandal but that's old, you feel me?

Men are not really affected when you scream at them and tell them how upest they made you. They can easily manipulate you and make you feel guilty about "overreacting" and yet again "being too emotional".

So I tossed this thought away and came up with a better plan.

I am gonna make Roman beg for me.

I brushed my hair and decided to put on a body oil on my skin with vanilla scent because Roman goes crazy when he smells vanilla. CRAZY.

I looked at my reflection on the wardrobe mirror which was next to the bed.

I'm gonna make him weak.

I heard the door downstairs unlocking and I quickly laid on the bed seductively, yet casually while changing the TV channel. I don't want him to see that I've been watching Smackdown.

I felt that he is entering in the bedroom but I pretended that I'm not seeing him and being too caught up with the random programme I put on.

"Hey, babe." he said softly with his deep, clear voice.

I turned to him and he had his long hair down. Oh, he knows I go weak over his natural, black, curly hair. He is wearing his usual black "Acknowledge me" tank top and black sweatpants. We'll see who will acknowledge who.

"Hey." I replied, unbothered.

He licked his lips while grinning. I think he is realizing that I'm all ready to be haunted by him but I'm gonna let him know who is the boss tonight or must I say the tribal chief.

"Why are you mad?" he laid next to me and started placing kisses on my cheeks coming down to my neck. His beard tickling my skin. "I tried not to be late. I see you got ready for me". The kisses started to become wet and his low voice got me almost ready.

I felt his big hands on my hips trying to take off my underwear but I stopped him.

"Not so fast" I simply said and he had a confused look on his face, going a bit far from me. "Tonight things will go a little different" I clarified.

"What do you mean different?". He furrowed his eyebrows.

I got up from the bed and slowly took off my kimono.

"Let's play a little game". I suggested and he rolled his eyes.

"Y/N, I am about to rip this pretty ass lingerie with my bare teeth and eat your pussy out like the last meal I'm gonna have in my life. Do you think I'm in the mood for games?" He suddenly got pissed. And I know why. Cause he wants everything to be his way, no questions asked.

"And why do you think you deserve this opportunity...chief?" I cocked my eyebrow. I just pulled a superman punch on him, mentally.

"What do you mean why? You are my girlfriend. The woman of my life...the love of my life." He replied and ran his fingers through his hair. "Babygirl..."

"Ah." I raised my finger. "Don't call me that. I thought Kayla was the babygirl."

Roman then got the look of realisation.

"Come on, Y/N...is this what you are mad about? Please." He reacted as if it's nothing. "I don't really mean it, you know?"

"Aha. And what if I call another man daddy?" I asked and crossed my arms which made my boobs pop out even more.

"I'm gonna beat the living shit out of him then show you who the real daddy is." Roman replied immediately with a not so slight growl in his voice.

"Well now..." I crawled on the bed to him and made him lean back. Then I put myself on his crotch. "I'm gonna show you who the real babygirl is".

I felt his hands on my ass but I removed them.

"No touching game"

"What do you mean no touching?" He slightly got up but I pushed him down again.

"Tribal chief can't take his punishment?" He looked me deep in the eyes and swallowed loudly. "I'm gonna stay up here and I'm gonna have fun with you but you are not allowed to touch me".

I got closer to his face.

"If you lay your hands on me, - I whisprered - I'm gonna go over there on the couch and I'm gonna touch myself, making you watch without being able to touch me and taste me, you understand?"

He gave me no answer, he just let out a growl, the exact beast low growl he does during mid match when he gets angry at his opponent.

I left a small peck on his lips just to tease him even more, then another one and on the third one he attacked my lips or more precisely, my tongue which made me separate from his face.

"Ay, you are so impatient, Roman." I scolded him and licked my lips.

"You make me this way". He said through his teeth and I giggled while taking his tank top off, exposing his beautiful upper body - the muscles and the magnificent tribal tattoo which made him even hotter.

I started leaving slow and wet kisses on his chest all down to his stomach. His breaths were getting heavier and heavier. I can feel how much he wants to touch me but he had his hands squeezing the sheets. I started licking his abs and took a look at his face. He had his lips pressed and eyes close shut.

I couldn't help but smirk and put my ass on his lap again, slowly started grinding.

"Don't". He hissed putting his hands on his head.

"Aw". I pouted and leaned to his face again.

"Daddy can't take it?" I asked and then brushed my lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss but Roman swiftly turned it to a very aggressive one. It almost felt like he would swallow my whole mouth and tongue. That's what I call a kiss of desparation.

Not to mention that I felt a big bulge beneath me. Now I awoke the true beast. I started grinding even more but problem is I am getting wet, too.

"Those sweatpants ain't thick enough for me to not notice you are getting seriously wet." He said through the kisses.

"I think you should worry about your boner, baby, cause that shit must hurt." I whispered against his mouth with a big smirk on my face.

"Also, I can always do this". I ripped my tong off with a bare hand and I slid myself like a snowboard on his abs and left a wet trail.

The look on his face was just priceless. It was mixed with shock, joy and anger. I can't really explain it.

I got beside him, taking off his sweatpants which were about to rip off from his own dick and now he is only left with his red boxers which may also rip off in a while.

He couldn't help but grab me by my hips and put me on him.

"Ah. I think you just broke the rule, Roman. No touching." I tsked and shook my head. "You know what this means."

I got away from him and turned my bare ass around walking to the couch taking off my bra, slowly, leaving myself completely naked.

I sat down on the couch, spreading my legs, just right in front of his eyes.

I licked my fingers slowly and seductively and put them on my clit.

Roman's POV:

If she continues going around like this, I'm gonna fuck her until she literally becomes unconscious and I mean it.

This woman knows how to play with me and I mean it in every single way.

I can handle anything. I'm a big man. You can put me against 2, 3, 4, 5 men and can handle the beating, no problem but I can't handle Y/N and her beautiful naked body standing in front of me and I'm not allowed to do anything.

That's something I can't survive and I don't know until when I am gonna stand like this and not enter in her like a drill in wood.

Her standing over there, looking at me with her hungry yet innocent eyes, playing with her pussy which was obviously crying for me. Her little fingers getting in and out. Her sexy moans getting inside my head.

"I'm just not gonna watch." I laid back looking at the white ceiling.

She started moaning louder and heavier and I felt like I'm gonna explode down there. Her moans always make me go insane, ecstatic even.

"When is this game coming to an end, Y/N?" I yelled.

"Whenever I say, daddy." She said through her heavy breaths and after a while she reached her climax, screaming out my name in the most needy tone ever.

Lord, how much I want to jump from that bed and put my dick inside of her tight pussy.

"Y/N, I need you, please. This is not funny" I said through my heavy breaths and then she got up, coming to me.

"Did you just say please?" She grinned sweetly.

She knows. Y/N knows too well how to make a big and strong man like me weak.

She has this effect.

"Yes. Is this what I had to do?" I asked her as if I'm cracking a code.

"Almost." she replied and she licked her fingers not leaving anything for me.

What does she mean by almost?

She got over me yet again. Okay. I guess game is over then. Y/N started taking my boxers off. It's happening.

Y/N's POV:

"Daddy deserves a reward after all he said but we still have work to do." I said while taking his boxers off, and his big beast exposed in front of me, all ready to be inside my holes.

"No touching me." I repeated in the same strict tone.

- What?- he cried out and I immediately started sucking his dick like a kid who just got its favorite lolipop.

I was going on fastly and as deep as I could and judging by his heavy breaths and whimpers, I knew if I don't slow it down, he can cum just like this. I want to show him how easy he is and how little he needs from me to cum. So I slowed it down, got it out of my mouth and licked my lips.

"Please don't stop like this." He whined.

This view is priceless.

Priceless.

A big, tough man like him all desperate for me to continue.

"I'm never gonna leave my daddy unsatisfied but the moment you touch me, I stop and you deal with this yourself." I warned him.

"Tie me up, at this point." He yelled.

I shook my head.

"Let's really test your limits, Roman." I licked my lips and then went back to business, changing the tactic. I started licking...slowly.

- At this point.- he talked to his heavy breaths.- I'm not gonna talk...to any other woman. Nah. I ain't gonna look at another woman. If you are gonna punish me like this.- his usual deep voice was crying out of desparation. I almost can't even recognise him. He is so given up.

I couldn't help but grin and then take as much as I could in my mouth, although tears were forming in my eyes and I will choke after a while.

He hissed.

Then I started going at my pace at first, more swiftly. I took a look at his face.

He is so sweaty from the head to the upper body, his hair is all messy, such a look of desparation and neediness. I felt my pussy throbbing and soaking from this view alone.

"Please, Y/N.- he cried out.- How much more do you need me to beg you? I need you!" He sounded so helpless.

Okay. Mission is accomplished. I think he learned his lesson.

I did a few more ups and downs and there we go. His dick exploded in my mouth like those hard candies with a liquid filling. In this case, a very, very hard big ass candy with extra, extra filling.

This mixed with his grunts is a whole another experience.

And I swallowed it all like a champ. Like an athlete swallows his protein shake right after workout.

I got up in a sitting position. My hair was all messed up and I felt a lil bit of sperm around my mouth and I immediately licked it. My breathing was heavy as well cause god damn, my man's tool is not small. It takes a lot of work.

Problem is I need him inside of me. Now. I am also a needy bitch.

"I had no idea the chief is so needy." I finally spoke with a taunting tone.

Roman was still coming to his senses. I think he doesn't know where he is. Honestly, he looks beautiful. I got close to his face. I slightly fixed his messy hair which got even curlier and placed a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

His breathing calmed down and he opened his eyes. He doesn't look cute now. No. He looks scary even.

My expression suddenly changed and was about to get off him but he caught me and swiftly changed the positions, slamming me onto the bed and now I'm under him.

"Are you done, princess? Are you done playing with your daddy now?" He asked with a low tone yet scolding one. Also the look on his face was very hungry yet frightening. "You think you tired me? No." He shook his head and caught my cheeks with his one hand. "You think you can play with me like a toy and then leave the things like this?" he asked me and shook his head again.

"Spread your legs." He ordered to me but I sat still. I am still shocked by the sudden change in him.

Okay I thought I got him for a minute but I swear to God, that's a beast and I can't tame him for long.

I swallowed loudly.

"Spread your beautiful legs for me." He repeated but it was in a slightly softer tone. I did it this time and he stared down at my pussy.

Roman smirked and licked his lips as if he is ready to devour a delicious meal.

"Look at it. It's crying out for me" He chuckled. "So ready to be eaten up by me" He growled going down on me and then he licked it in a really slow motion then kissed it.

A desperate moan left my mouth.

He suddenly came close to my face.

"You know, I'm a generous tribal chief, Y/N. If I was a brat like you, I would also think of a silly little game but my will to devour every single part of your body is stronger, so I'm not responsible for what it's coming. You brought this upon yourself."

My heart started beating as if it's gonna jump out of my body and I felt new juices forming in my core.

"Don't give me this scared look now." Roman smiled running his thumb over my chin. "There is nothing to be scared of. Daddy just wants his princess to acknowledge him and to make her feel good. Do I want too much?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"N-no." I stuttered.

He started kissing me. We exchanged some passionate, tongue kisses then he went down on me again.

I was making fun of him earlier that I can make him cum fast but same thing goes for me, I fear. And he is going slow, still. Enjoying every bit of my womanhood.

"Please, faster". I said through my heavy breaths, feeling the sweat forming on my forehead.

Not only he didn't go faster, he stopped, looked at me with this devilish look he always does before he came up with something mischievous, which typically doesn't end well.

"Now when you order your favorite meal, do you eat it at one go or you take your time to enjoy it?" Is he eating me out or we are having a discourse lecture?

"I eat everything in a blink of an eye and you damn know it." I replied with annoyance.

"Well, I'm the opposite type, so please, after the hell you just put me through, I deserve to enjoy my meal...slowly." He said and went back to his doing.

A helpless moan escaped my lips.

Why is he like this?

The leisure motions of his tongue were driving my body nuts, just like a time bomb. However time bombs in movies usually have seconds left until they explode but not in my case. I will explode when the tribal chief says so, I fear.

He started placing kisses on it then even slightly sucking on my clit.

"Please." I cried out. Literal tears started forming in my eyes from the frustration and desperation, forming in my whole body. "Please, Roman, faster".

He stopped and looked at me again but he didn't move his face far from my womanhood.

"Funny how the tables have suddenly turned." He literally whispered against my pussy which brought shivers all over it and made me flinch even.

Then he started eating me out fastly, so sudden yet so deeply anticipated by me.

I became a moaning mess again, almost in sync with his motions. I was feeling sweat dripping on my forehead and the tension in my whole body was building up, craving to cum.

I don't need much. I really don't need much. Just a few seconds and I'm gonna-

And there it is. The bomb exploded. I fear that this man may go deaf from my vocal performance tonight.

He placed another few kisses on it and of course, licked me all dry. "There we go, baby." He chuckled and while I was coming back to my senses, until I realize, I got positioned on four legs with Roman behind me and in front of the mirror.

He got inside of me as a thief in a house. However, thiefs get inside in a quiet, cautious way. Roman's stroke wasn't any of that.

Although, I was wide and ready for his dick, I still felt a bit of pain mixed with pleasure and fulfillment because we were both waiting for that exact feeling of our bodies colliding.

Our bodies, so needy of one another, that exact drug-like feeling which you can never get enough of.

The room got filled with my moans and his grunts.

"I want you to take a good look at the mirror, princess, and see, how good daddy makes you feel. Take a look at this hot view". He said through his heavy breaths yet he still sounded so dominant.

The view is really out of this world. We look like a hot mess.

"Same goes for you, bae". I smirked and then whimpered from his strokes which were gradually becoming faster and faster. "I want you to see that no other woman will fit you as I do"

"When did I say this?" he asked through his teeth and the strokes became so deep that I almost felt his dick up in my stomach, which of course, led my breath to choke and tears form in my eyes. "Huh, tell me babygirl". Roman insisted while not slowing at all. His expression was so angry but I know he is having the time of his life.

"Never but-" I didn't even get to finish my sentence because my body reached yet another orgasm and I felt that warm feeling of his sperm filling my insides.

We both came in unison. Roman let out some moans of conquerness. He finally got what he wanted.

My moans were frail...shaky. I feel like I got no more voice to let out and will go mute if he continues to fuck me sensless.

He grabbed me and slammed my back on the bed while him being over me.

Eye to eye.

"Sorry, babygirl, so rude of me to interrupt you. What were you saying?" Roman smirked. That damn smirk which never fails to drive me crazy.

"I-" and I was interrupted again by his dick getting inside of me but this time it was in a slower motion.

"I deeply apologize once again" He emphasized on "deeply" as he went deeper. "You were saying"

"Huh?" I had no idea what he is talking at this point. Roman let out one of his deep chuckles. "I asked you when did I say that another woman can fit me"- he repeated his question.

"You did not say it with words but-" He started going faster but not too fast. However it was enough for me to cut my breaths.

"Use your words, Y/N" He is enjoying this way too much. "You were very talkative while you were explaining the rules of your game. What happened now, huh?" He was talking with this victorious tone...he knows he took the control once again.

"You said it with action" My voice was all raspy and I tried to sound clear but the situation wasn't allowing me at all, so I sounded more like a powerless human being.

"I see" he went fast once again. I digged my nails into his sweaty, half tatooed back. It will probably leave red marks but he just loves this shit.

Then he attacked my lips in a deep, passionate kiss but there was a nuance of anger. Our tongues were in a battle, exchanging moans and grunts.

I felt that I'm gonna pass out really, really soon due to the fact that I was seeing stars with my eyes closed.

"Look at me, Y/N" Roman stopped kissing me and I tried to open my eyes. That damn man still looks fresh as hell like he can go for few hours yet I probably look like I'm gonna leave this world sooner than you think. "You think I'd do that for another woman, huh?"

"No." I officially lost my voice because I barely said this.

The moment we reached our climax, I was letting out mute moans. Yes, MUTE MOANS. There was literally no voice and no power left in me. I feel all numb and powerless.

"Good". Roman spoke through his heavy breaths. After he fully nutted in me for the second time, he got out of me.

Then I felt him laying a kiss on my sweaty forehead.

"I love you and you only, Y/N. I said with words and actions"

#roman reigns #head of the table #wwe #the bloodline #tribal chief #roman reigns fanfiction

231 notes · View notes

notiddygothgf · 4 months ago

Text

4. Taste Like Nicotine

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Go back to Himeno. ❞ ❝ No. That's not what you want. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HELLO AGAIN MY POOKIE DOOKIES!! IM BACK AGAIN. bc i have nothing better to do atm and i wanted to give yall a lil sum sum before i moved away to uni. please excuse the pacing of this chapter -- this fanfic was supposed to be a oneshot and uh... now its 160 pages in google docs LMFAOOA.. things get spicy in this chapterrr! so yeah anyway, you know the drill, keep me entertained -- keep your funny little comments coming, I absolutely love reading them. You guys motivate me to keep going! Love yall

★ w.c.;4.1k

shameless ; chapter index

THE OFFICE WAS QUIET, the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds that broke the silence. You were alone, finishing up some last-minute paperwork after hours. The mission had gone surprisingly well—no casualties, a rare feat in your line of work. The team had even managed to kill a large Devil containing a piece of Gun Devil Flesh, a significant victory. Yet, instead of joining the others to celebrate, you had chosen to stay behind. Partly to avoid any awkward encounters with Himeno, but mostly because you felt restless, unable to shake off the events of the past few days.

As you finished up the last of your reports, you glanced at the new message on your phone.

HIMENO| you didn't come tonight.

Typing...

YOU

| I didn't think you'd wanna see me after the stunt I pulled.

HIMENO| I dont, but I wanted u to know that everyone is talking abt u

YOU

| ??

| wym

HIMENO

| your shadow didn't come tonight, either.

Typing...

YOU| look, himeno, ive actually been wanting to talk to you about that

| would you be able to meet up and talk it out?

HIMENO| id rather not honestly.

| ur a grown woman and i cant stop u from doing what u want

| but just know that people in pb. safety talk

| dont mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for aki

| u should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs

YOU| I understand that I've hurt you, Himeno, and I'm sorry

| I have no intentions of being with Aki.

HIMENO| good

| dont get him mixed up in ur fucked up marriage

| he doesnt deserve that.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. There were certain battles you simply couldn't win. This would undoubtedly be one of them.

It was late, and you knew you should head home. You gathered your things and made your way down the dimly lit hallways, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

As you passed the breakroom, you heard voices. One familiar voice, more specifically.

You slowed your pace, not wanting to intrude but curious enough to catch a snippet of the conversation. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see two figures inside.

"You look desperate, dude," the unknown person said, barely audible. "It's not attractive."

"I'm becoming ridiculous," Captain Hayakawa said, his voice low and strained. "I'm losing hope."

"Hope of what? Convincing a married woman to break her vows?" the other person retorted, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

Are they talking about me? You asked. You knew the answer. You simply did not want to confront it.

Hayakawa sighed. "I thought she would call me by now," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your stomach churn uncomfortably. "I just... there was something there."

There was a pause, then the other person sighed, his voice softening. "God, you are ridiculous." After a moment, he added, almost reluctantly, "Shit, sorry, man. I know you like her."

"No, you're right," He replied, a note of resignation following his words. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I'm driving myself crazy waiting for someone who's never gonna call."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, guilt and confusion swirling together. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn't just walk away without feeling a pang of something—regret, perhaps? The slip of paper with his number, still in your possession, weighed heavily in your mind. You had been avoiding the situation, avoiding him, and now it was clear how much it had affected him.

Aki's words echoed in your ears as you stood frozen in the hallway.

He was right; you hadn't called him. You hadn't even acknowledged the note, too caught up in your own turmoil and guilt to consider his feelings. Now, hearing him speak so openly, you felt a rush of emotions—sympathy, guilt, confusion. There had been a moment between you, an undeniable spark, but you had chosen to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist.

When would it all come crashing down – your efforts? This whole situation?

The conversation in the breakroom continued, but you couldn't listen any longer. You turned away, your heart pounding. As you made your way to the exit, you couldn't help but replay Aki's words in your mind.

He had been waiting for you, hoping you would reach out, and now he was losing hope. Fuck.

He had been waiting for me.

The idea thrilled you, for some strange reason. Maybe because you hadn't felt desired like this in years – it made your head spin. But another part of you was terrified—of what it might mean, of the complications it would bring, of the impact on your marriage.

You couldn't help yourself. You did what you always did. You ran away from him.

You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but for now, you needed time to think. .

7:45 PM

Typing...

Hey. |

Typing...

Hello, |

Typing...

How are you? |

Typing...

Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party. I think you should be there.

SENT.

YOU | Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party.

I think you should be there.

| At the Sip-n-savor in downtown Tokyo

Seen 8:00 PM .

The night went on without a flaw. The atmosphere was infectious, and you had been trying to let loose, drink in hand, as you chatted and danced with the others. But as the night wore on, a sense of unease settled in. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the memories of the overheard conversation in the breakroom, or maybe it was the subtle disappointment that someone hadn't shown up.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup. You sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. As you washed your hands, you found yourself thinking about Aki.

Despite everything, a depraved part of you had hoped to see him tonight. You had been both relieved and disappointed when he hadn't shown up—relieved because it meant avoiding an awkward conversation, disappointed because you had been... well, actually looking forward to seeing him.

As you touched up your makeup, you couldn't help but reflect on your own conflicted feelings. You were married, committed, and yet, Aki had stirred something in you that you simply couldn't stand to ignore. It was confusing, disorienting. You weren't sure what you felt more strongly: guilt for being drawn to him or frustration that you couldn't just let it go.

"Ugh," You groaned, pressing your forehead against the sink. "'M g'nna be sick."

Feeling a bit lightheaded from the drinks, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You left the bathroom and – completely drunk – maneuvered through the crowds to the nearest door.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your warm skin, and you leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths. The city lights twinkled below, and you watched them in a daze, trying to steady your thoughts.

That's when you saw him.

Aki was just entering the party, his sharp suit and dark hair making him stand out immediately. You felt your heart skip a beat. Then another. He was killing you.

He came, you thought, a strange mix of emotions flooding you. Relief, excitement, and that persistent undercurrent of guilt all tangled together.

He spotted you almost immediately and made his way over. As he approached, you couldn't help but think how painfully gorgeous he looked, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on his features. In that moment, he seemed almost like a knight in shining armor, a figure out of place in the lively, chaotic setting of the bar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, a balm to your nerves.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, a slight concern in his tone. "You're not cold?"

He always seemed to be worried about you and the weather. Still, the chill felt nice against your hot skin, oddly enough.

I missed you, you didn't say. You didn't even think about it. You knew that in a day you would be back on the train and all of this would just be a bad dream, anyway.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, I just needed some air. It's a bit stuffy in there."

Aki didn't respond immediately, and when you turned your head up to look at him, his expression was unreadable. The noise from inside the bar seemed distant, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in that moment. You felt a tug in your chest, a pull towards him that you couldn't explain, couldn't deny.

"Did you pregame the bar, or something?" You laughed quietly. It felt nice, being able to pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of you and just... enjoy each other's company. "You smell like beer."

"I was having a few drinks with my roommate before you texted me," He answered. Then, looking out onto the street, he added, "He told me I shouldn't come tonight. Said you're driving me crazy."

"So, why are you here, then?" You asked.

He looked at you. "I think you know why I'm here."

There was a brief silence, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on you, soft but searching. It was the same look he had given you in the seminar, the museum, everywhere else, and it stirred something deep inside you.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked you. His voice was as deep and rich as ever, and you had about half a mind to take him up on the offer.

You shivered. You knew it wasn't from the cold air. It was him – the smell of him, his cologne, the distinct scent of nicotine that let you know he had just finished smoking a cigarette. It was an aroma so unique to him that you had grown to like it.

You were looking at his lips before you knew it, giving way to a craving you couldn't explain, "I'll try a cigarette, if you have any."

He smiled softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping open a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He placed a cancer stick between your lips, and you felt a part of you die a little. He struck the wheel of the lighter, bringing the cigarette to life.

You coughed so hard that you nearly hacked up a lung. It had been years since your last cigarette.

Hayakawa stepped behind you, cupping a hand around your elbow, sliding it up your arm, your wrist, your fingers before he plucked the cigarette from your digits.

"First time?" He asked, warm voice hot against your neck.

"Wanted to give it a try," You shrugged. You didn't know what, exactly, had gotten into you. It seemed that with every sip of liquor you took lately, you crept closer and closer back to your old self. The sort of liquid courage that made people make very bad decisions. "Sorry. I'm a little," You waved your hands around yourself, trying to gesture 'drunk' without actually saying it.

"How brave of you," He murmured, pulling a hit from your cigarette and exhaling. He was the picture of sin – face flushed with alcohol, messy bangs, pink lips wrapped around a cancer stick. He was so pretty it hurt.

"I'll try it again when I'm sober," You offered.

"When?" He asked, breathing smoke out into the air. "Where?"

As persistent as always, you thought. Still, you didn't necessarily mind the attention anymore. You told yourself that it didn't matter – you would be out of here soon anyway, and everything would be far behind you before you knew it.

"Why is it that every time I'm inebriated... God tests me by throwing you in my way?" You laughed, Truly, you wished you had considered the implications of your words a little more before you had said them. "Just as I thought your manners had improved since the party. You behaved badly, then. You know that? Very badly," you hiccuped. "You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing– hic–throwing yourself at a married woman like that."

He didn't acknowledge your drunken ramblings, and he also didn't deny the fact that he had been doing exactly that – throwing himself at a married woman.

"Hardly my fault," He breathed out. "I just can't seem to resist you."

"Don't worry," You replied, eyeing him up dubiously as he pulled another hit from what was left of your cigarette. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Won't have to worry about resisting me after that."

"I know," He answered back. "Selfishly enough, I spent the last few hours wishing your train got delayed one more day, or something like that," He exhaled, then snuffed his cigarette out on the balcony, "Still, I'm glad I could see you before you went home."

"I wish I could say the same about you," You replied before you could stop the words from coming out.

He poked his tongue through the inside of his cheek, retorting, "You're gonna sit here and act like you didn't invite me? Like your eyes didn't light up like a child when you saw me pull up?" He turned around, commanding even more of your attention, standing at least a foot and a half taller than you. "You wanted me to come tonight."

It was true. That's the worst part. Everything he said was the truth.

"So that I could say goodbye," You said with remarkable finality, "I'm leaving after this."

You hadn't originally planned on leaving so soon, of course, but you wanted to get the hell out of here before you made another bad decision.

"Already?" He asked.

"You're the one who ran late," You replied. "This ends tonight. I'm going to say bye to everyone else, then I'll be gone."

With that being said, you made your way back to the door. You would go inside, bid everyone farewell, collect your belongings, and then–

He called your name before you could go back inside. You froze in place.

"Am I misreading the signals?" He asked.

You sighed, turning around one last time to clear the air, "This has to stop, Aki. You make me feel like... like I'm guilty of something."

He implored you, "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to Himeno," You answered, a biting undertone seeping through your words. You were undeniably bitter about the whole situation, and under any other circumstances, you would have tried to be a good sport, but...

Himeno's words were a heavy weight on your heart.

'Don't mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for Aki.'

'You should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs."

You could never be what Aki wanted. He wanted all of you – not just a week of you, clearly. You were married, and you couldn't let all of that go over a guy you'd been toeing the line with for what seemed like ages.

He was a young man. The fact of the matter was that you were a grown woman. A married one.

"She's a sweet, kind woman," You continued. You felt like you were going to be sick just being near him. Unknowingly, tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes. "Go back and beg her to forgive you. Go be with someone who wants to be with you. Who can be with you."

"No," He answered simply. There was an intensity in his eyes that frightened you, like he would die without you, as he continued, "That's not what you want. I think we both know that. I refused a mission in Hiroshima to stay here with you. I planned to let go of another one in Beijing," He swallowed, "I can change my mind, and you'll never see me again."

"If you have any consideration for me," Your voice was a shuddering whisper, like someone could walk out any minute and hear the two of you going back and forth. "Any semblance– a shrivel of compassion, you'll give me back my peace."

He shook his head, "I can't. You know I can't. You've consumed every inch of my peace, every inch of my mind. How can I give you your peace?"

Fair point.

You had nothing to say to him. So, silently, your vision blurred with tears, you glared at him. Glared and frowned like that would make you believe he was the sole contributor to this issue. Then, again, you turned on your heel and went for the door. You entered the bar quickly.

He followed not too long after you, "I'll go to Beijing, then."

"No." You said. Your teary-eyed fury caught the eyes of more than a few confused bar patrons. "I don't want you to go."

Everyone was looking at you. Seriously, everyone. Your old coworkers, the bartenders, everybody.

You swallowed down your pride, bowing down before them all. "Good night, everyone," You said. You plucked your purse and your jacket off of the barstool. "Thank you for everything. I'm leaving."

Ignoring the confused looks and hushed whispers from the patrons, you exited the bar, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle quickly turning into a steady downpour. You barely noticed, too wrapped up in the turmoil inside your head. The cold, wet sensation of the rain soaked through your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind.

But of course, Aki followed after you. You could hear him calling your name, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. You quickened your pace, almost running, your heels splashing through puddles as you made your way down the block. His footsteps pounded behind you, matching your speed. You couldn't escape him, couldn't outrun him.

Finally, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you. "Wait, can we please talk?" he pleaded, his voice breathless and desperate.

You turned to face him, rain pouring down around you both. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit jacket soaked through. The intensity in his eyes matched the storm, a fierce determination that made your heart ache. You met his gaze begrudgingly, not wanting to deal with this, not wanting to deal with him.

"Have I really been imagining all of this?" He asked. He sounded broken. "Is it really all in my head? Tell me if it's a lie. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you mean it—all of it," he paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Or tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. "I don't know how to feel, Aki," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm trying to be good, but you just keep fucking—popping up everywhere. And you say these pretty things to me, and," You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. "I can't help myself around you."

"Running from your problems won't make me go away," he said, stepping forward to put his hands gently on your waist.

There was a long pause as you stood there in the rain, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. The storm, the bar, everything else was just a blur. You were tired—tired of running, tired of the confusion, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

He added, "You can't run from your feelings."

This time, it was his eyes that dropped to your lips. His tongue darted out to dampen his own, and then his eyes flicked up to your face. When he spoke, his voice was huskier than before, as if it had been tainted by an emotion that hadn't been there before. Was it lust? Passion? Whatever it was, you wanted more of it.

Your eyes widened. Your mouth had run dry. You didn't know what to say. Even being like this right now -- as close as you were, -- was against your wedding vows. This was wrong, and you couldn't do that to your own husband.

Your own husband who loved you so dearly.

Your own husband who left you hanging so many nights on end.

Your own husband, who acted as if he couldn't care if you lived or died.

As if he had sensed your train of thought wandering, Aki placed two fingers beneath your chin, lifting your face up until he was the captor of all of your attention. Him and him alone. Not your husband, but him.

"I could treat you like a princess," His eyes wandered down to your lips again, but this time there was an unspoken hunger within them. "All you have to do is ask, and I'm yours. I already am."

And, God, what a fool you had been in uttering the words, "Don't toy with my emotions. You don't want me."

He paused, awaiting something, anything. His eyes pleaded with your own, luring you in with promises of pleasure and happiness. Gently, he grabbed your hand, placing it over his breast, right above his heart.

"I want you so badly it hurts," He breathed, "For a night, for a day, for a week..." Aki closed the gap between the two of you – brought your faces closer together. Closer, until you could feel the warmth of his calm breath fanning out against your cheek. Closer, until he uttered, "As long as you'll let me have you."

"Aki, I can't-...." You paused. Yet, still, you never moved. Your body betrayed your words, dilated pupils and trembling hands giving way to your internal dilemma. "This is wrong. You know I can't do this."

You were being a hypocrite. You knew you were. One spare glance down at the placement of your hands on his chest -- one over his breast and one looped around his tie -- and you knew he could tell you were only putting up a front.

"I know," he murmured softly, words practically dying beneath the volume of the rain, "But I can't stop thinking about you."

You folded. Your eyes dropped down to his lips one last time, and that's when you knew he had already won.

Fuck it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, feeling a surge of reckless abandon.

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his in a desperate, frenzied kiss. It was messy and wet, your tears mixing with the rain, your hands tangling in his hair as his arms finally wrapped around you.

The kiss was filled with all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the frustration, the desire. It was passion, it was anger – it was tongue and teeth and lips smearing your lipstick over the lower half of your face. It was two black holes finally colliding after circling around each other far too long.

"I can't make sense of it. I want... you," you sighed, pulling away, voice trembling, "I don't know what any of this means anymore. I don't know what to think."

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

You were tired of running from the inevitable.

a/n: dont hate me. LMFAOAOAOOAOA. i had to! i absolutely loved writing this chapter and i loved writing tipsy obsessed aki. i headcannon that he's a touchy needy bf and no one can tell me otherwise. i think you all know what happens next. im not sayin nothin tho. hehe. ANYWAYYYYY LMK WHAT YALL THOUGHTTTTT i look forward to hearing it!!! lmk what yall wanna see in the next few chapters/over the course of the story. and if youve already watched anna karenina (or read, in which case... how...) shhhhhh youve seen nothing. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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#god i love drunk aki #my life is yours #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki hayakawa #hayakawa aki #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #denji x reader #eventual smut

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rikisniffles · 6 months ago

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chapter nine [西村力] my first love was a boy ✧ NISHIMURA RIKI (NI-KI) X M!READER

SYNOPSIS — l/n y/n is a member of boynextdoor under hybe/koz. being an idol has always been y/n's dream, and ever since it became true he has been more than happy. despite being an idol, he doesn't know many other idols outside his group. when he runs into his seniors, a seemingly never-ending spiral of embarrassing moments occurs.

disclaimer !! : every idol in my stories is a character and does not always reflect the actual person (i do my best but for entertainment purposes, it may be off)

— fic masterlist / info

chapter nine - y/n fell first

warning: written part (after the first image)

“Ni-ki?” Sunoo grabs Ni-ki’s attention from across the table, “Eat some more.” He plates some food, handing it over to the other boy. Ni-ki takes it with a generous nod but keeps his eyes fixated on his phone.

“This generation’s youth and their phones…” Jake sighed, reaching his head to spy on what Ni-ki was doing. Ni-ki hides his screen away from Jake, only making his hyung wish to see it more.

“You’re the same generation as me.” Ni-ki corrects, still hiding his screen as Jake leans further.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing, Mind your business.” Ni-ki pushes Jake gently back into his seat, and Jake chuckles in return.

“He’s texting Y/n.” Jay notifies Jake, glancing at Ni-ki’s phone from the other side of him. He has a clear image of the screen. Sunoo seems to perk up, suddenly interested.

“Oh.” Jake seems disappointed, “Why are you hiding that?”

Ni-ki didn’t really know why, but something about it was embarrassing for him, “Just bothering you.” Ni-ki smiles sheepishly before returning to his phone.

Sunoo leans forward, taking a look at Ni-ki’s face as he chews on a piece of meat. Ni-ki takes notice of this, snapping his head up nervously.

“What?”

“Nothing, You look happy.” Sunoo smiles, taking another bite of food. “Are you feeling better?” Ni-ki nods at Sunoo’s question, and he smiles back.

“Y/n asked how I was feeling,” Ni-ki admits, picking up his chopsticks and setting down his phone, “He’s really kind.” Ni-ki has trouble getting the words out, yet he wants to say them so bad. He wants to say so much more.

“Yeahhhh,” Sunoo sings, “I can see you guys being really good friends.” He giggles.

“You’re laughing like an evil villain.” Sunghoon teases, Sunoo pushes his shoulder playfully as they both laugh together.

"I can feel cameras on us." Jay groans, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched as he eats. A white flash signals behind them. Someone had caught them, not that they were hiding anything but it was quite annoying to be bothered every time they did anything in public.

Ni-ki leans over, staring at the fan's phone camera dead on. The flash signals again as they take a picture of him. He wasn't too annoyed but he would've felt better if he looked more presentable. He hoped it wouldn't be spread around too much.

He couldn't help but think about how Y/n would react if he saw those photos.

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— koki's note ★ ; OKAYYY another update, happy 4th of july for my american readers 👍👍 hope yall have a great day !!

taglist (OPEN) : @conwunder @sol3chu @bubblztaro @winuvs @certainsweetssheep @bayshark @starchasing-cryptid @jaeyuunie @tubatu-lovie @icewons @teoluvsyou @forever-atiny @grumble-0

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 9 months ago

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''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI PART 5

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :6524

Warnings below the cut

WARNINGS: Abuse (Not aemond commiting it, Aemond is nice in the fic) brother of OC/Reader is a asshole, mention of pregnancy related deaths (oc's mother) and mentions of Oral sex (f recieving) fingering, and a looooot of angst.

Fight and die 5

Your husband stays by your side during the evening, when the sun begins to settle and when the moon and stars once again entertain and light up the night skies. The two of you nestle in the warm embrace of his bed, with sheets and blankets covering your still naked body, that Aemond caresses and kisses as if he is your devoted servant and you his Goddess. Kisses that tingle and make your belly ache, and kisses you want to last forever and forever more after that. “I've never seen such a beautiful creature.” Aemond breathes against the shell of your ear. ‘’Marrying you was the best choice I ever made.’’ He adds, burying his silver haired head between your legs. You are reminded of how this evening started, with him, wishing to taste you. You were a bit nervous, of course. But he took care of you. As he always has.

You brace yourself by allowing him to kiss the same parts of your body that he took. That he touched before and where he pushed himself inside of you.

The pain always frightened you. But aside from the very first time, your body took it well. Aemond told you early on in your marriage that he would not force you.

Sharing his bed, doing your duties as his wife is fun, enjoyable and a blessing. You feel him draw circles with his fingers on your legs, making eye contact all the while when softly wettening his fingers by sucking on them. You let out a soft pitched appreciative cry.

He smiles, bending a bit further and soon you feel his warm, soft tongue lick over your smooth and wet entrance. Aemond moans against your skin, taking a deeper lick, his tongue tasting and taking away all the wetness you have. You clench yourself, your needs increasing as Aemond keeps licking.

‘’Such a delicate, delicious delicacy you guard between your legs.’’ He mutters, between your soft gasps and moans. ‘’I can do this all day long.’’ He promises, darkly and levels his tongue back at your entrance, proving his words with a possessive soft lick.

‘’I’m not sure I can.’’ You breathe out, shakingly. Your pleasure is building fast and you can barely handle it. Whenever you are near, you become a bit shy and embarrassed, as you are not so sure yet how to properly do this.

When Aemond took you, you were a maiden. Pure and uneducated in the way of pleasures. Now you know a bit more, but you and Aemond take it slow.

Your fingers dig in the sheets of his bed as the licks become soft kisses and eventually he is sucking your needy skin as you twist on his bed, your emotions and desire running higher and higher.

‘’Hmm,’’ Aemond murmurs after watching your flustered face with a dark appreciative smirk. ‘’My wife and my lady is just so delicious. I can’t help it.’’ He says, as if he excuses himself.

You know he is teasing.

‘’You are …delicious too.’’ You say, wishing to compliment him back.

Your free hands find his arms, gently touching him. You kissed Aemond before but never bothered to actually take notice of what his lips taste like. ‘’Hmm, I’m not so sure.’’ Aemond says, honest. ‘’Men taste different than women.’’ You want to ask him more about that. You avoided the subject with your brother. Sex was not for pleasure. It was to make heirs and to gain territorial ground.

But with Aemond, your husband…you are curious. How does a man taste? How does a woman please him, properly? Do you do it well as you do, or does Aemond want more excitement and fun?

‘’How does a man taste?’’ You whisper softly. You get no response. You curse yourself. You likely were too soft and he didn't even hear your question. And you don't want to know how a man tastes. You want to know how he tastes.

You lift his chin gently, interrupting his sucking. ‘’How do you taste?’’ You ask him, without missing a beat. Aemond's lips glinster with your wetness and juice as he licks them clean, watching your face speechlessly at your question.

‘’You wish to know that?’’ He asks, his voice a few octaves lower than usual, anticipation and pure lust creeping in.

Despite that he saw you naked and touched you where no one ever did, and despite you calling him your husband, the act still makes you a bit shy. ‘’Perhaps.’’ You calmly reply.

Aemond rubs your legs.

‘’You think you are ready for such things?’’ He wonders out loud. You wonder the same thing. These things take time to learn, time and trust. You are taking things slow with your husband. You two regularly lay together but trust, it is another thing entirely.

You hope to slowly build it with Aemond, stone for stone and wall for Wall until a strong foundation lays at your feet. But your mind, however…

It is curious. Aemond fed it with delicious forbidden things. He teaches you that having sex is a pleasure, not a duty and a burden. He made you appreciate it in ways you never thought possible and that makes you curious for what awaits you both. ‘’What sort of things?’’

Prince Aemond takes a good look at your shimmering wetness, perhaps avoiding eye contact that way as the words that leave his lips are soft and gently spoken as a secret he is hiding. ‘’Pleasuring me.’’

At first you are intrigued. Until you hear your self esteem tell you that you apparently don't do a good job at pleasuring him at all, or else he wouldn't have asked for more. And that makes you a horrible nervous wreck for when your brother comes, as pleasuring the prince was your only task. ‘’Don’t I already bring you pleasure?’’ You quickly mutter.

‘’Yes, more than you know.’’ That brings you relief. He is pleased. You do well. He continues however. ‘’But, you made it sound as if you were curious about more ways to bring me pleasure. Perhaps more ways…’’

His thumb and finger rub your nipples, as his other hand smoothly disappears between your legs, to where you need his fingers. He starts to level them inside of you, grabbing hold of you as you allow his fingers to take you. ‘’For yourself to reach more pleasure.’’ You gasp.

‘’I’m not sure I can handle such ways.’’ You confess. “I'm already at my limit with what I can handle.” He chuckles, adoring you clearly, perhaps you, perhaps the thought he brought you to your limits.

Yet he is gentle with his words, sweet even and considerate. Unlike most men. Unlike most husbands for sure. “You just started this journey. You have much to learn, but I will educate you when you are both mentally and psychically ready for it.” He whispers in your ear, leaving a kiss on your neck. You shiver against him and allow his hands to keep touching you where you desperately need it.

He thinks you can take more. He knows you can handle more. He sees you as a strong thing. ‘’I’ll admit, when I first met you, I thought you were a porcelain doll. One push and you’d shatter.’’ You wait for the compliment. ‘’But, I have gotten to know you and, well… You are not porcelain. You are Valyrian steel.’’ You know of that material. It is said to be strong as nails and nearly unbreakable. It is also lighter yet, making it a perfect weapon. The steel was forged in your ancestral land, where the Targaryens and your family both hailed from.

You feel flattered and beautiful all due to his kind words. But these are more than kind words. When he looks at you, you can see he is sincere in his praise. You wait for his fingers to finish touching you before you top him in an impulse, rolling on top of him and pinning him under you to give him a sloppy messy and needy kiss.

Aemond appreciates it, moving his hands over your back, caressing you as you lay there, feeling his heartbeat close and safe within your grasp.

He pins his hands into your own. You realize you are mirroring the position where you two start when you perform your duties as his wife. He is under for once and you, you are on top.

You feel more heat rise to your cheeks as you try to get off your husband, as this is likely far from what he wants. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to-” You stutter, getting off him as fast as you can.

Prince Aemond is confused, his brows narrowed and his good eye glances up and down your body, clearly worried.

“What is it?’’

You gesture with your hands to his bed and laugh, a bit silly that you acted on such foolish impulses. “A wife is supposed to lay under her husband. Not on top of him.” You say, as your brother has told you many times. ‘’It is known.’’

Aemond remains on the bed, putting his hands behind his head and sighs, deeply. You watch his chest rise and fall, fascinated by the prince’s beauty. Not just his muscles, but his grace. His good eye twitches and sparkles with mischief as he softly smirks, looking at you as if you are his whole world. “What does my wife think of that statement?” You aren’t sure. That is the way things were explained to you. That is the way the world works, in your opinion.

But the way Aemond said it, it changes everything you had known. “It's the truth, isn't it? A man can't…put his…inside her if he's.. not…” Your lips begin to part as Aemond burst into laughter at your statement.

He touches your face, lovingly before he kisses your lips and forehead, caressing it. “I assure you, I'm very flexible. But if you are uncomfortable in this position, or any position, you will tell me and we won't do it anymore. How does that sound?” You are very well aware Aemond could have chosen something else. A wife is a wife and has to obey her husband. Yet Aemond listens to your every wish, every step down the road he has been nothing but kind and gentle.

It makes you worry, because what if Aemond is just acting around you? What if he pretends to be fine, making all these sacrifices and sees women behind your back? What if this is all temporary and a beast is hiding beneath the man? “It's just…I am curious. Do I do well? As a wife?” You ask, sincer.

“As a wife?” He repeats after you.

You force yourself to laugh, trying to appear charming and beautiful.

“Do I bring you pleasure?” You ask, clarifying what you want to know, no must know so badly.

Aemond briefly looks at what is down between his legs, before chuckling softly. ‘’Revaera. You are a Valyrian born, enchanting, stunning, funny and smart woman. And I have only known you for almost a week. I can’t wait to see all the hidden sides that there are to you, I can’t wait to face both joy and doom with you. You make me not only happy, you make me proud to call you my wife.’’

You never have know to take a compliment well, as often, you weren’t complimented at all. You change the subject quickly. “Do you think we'll be in trouble?” You ask, out of the blue. You both denied the royals of this castle by not attending supper. You broke tradition and you insulted the King and Queen. You are sure they have killed for less.

Aemond switches the position of himself, planting himself slightly on top of you, intertwining your fingers lovingly with his own, making eye contact when kissing your lips. “Unlikely. They'll be offended for a few days or weeks at most. They'll get over it.” You hope he is right.

You hear his chuckle. “I'm sure my father didn't even notice I did not attend. So no trouble at all.” He assures you, lowering himself and laying back next to you. You feel him wrap his arms around your body and pull you closer.

You understand he is planning to sleep.

You know you should make use of this moment and seek out your brother to talk with him about the conflicts and the supper you missed. And how and why he is freed from the cage. Someone did that. Someone in this castle, someone with power, freed him. But who? And most importantly: Why?

But the impulse to stay safely within your husband's reach and to keep warm under the sheets of his bed, that impulse is too big for you to fight.

If you are so duty bound to your house, why do you feel as a whole other person when Aemond is near? He makes you want to take risks you never thought of taking. You never would have defied or rejected supper with the King and Queen before.

Next to you your husband snores gently and it is a comforting noise to you. You settle down next to him, and let sleep take you as well.

☆☆☆

“Revaera. Wake up, my love.” You hear your husband's voice gently as you open your eyes. A new day has arrived and a sunny one at that. Aemond sits on the bed near you, already dressed in his usual leather coat and pants.

You size him up, your smile fading as you understand he is heading out. “Are you going somewhere?” He likely is. And that terrifies you. You'll be alone and powerless without him by your side.

He nods, confirming your worst fears. He gently pats the sword he carries around.

“Practicing my swordfighting. I didn't want to leave you without telling you, however. That seemed…” He trials off. “A bit ill suited.” He did so before, and hearing his voice you know he is ashamed and apologizes for that mistake.

When you two first slept together, when he won you and when you two consummated the marriage. Yet you never once regretted sleeping with him. He was kind, gentle and respectful. It was unlike anything you'd imagine it would be. It was pleasant.

“I know you have your duties, but thank you for thinking about me.” But that horrible feeling of helplessness grows and grows, eating away at your confidence.

The prince chuckles. “I'll think of you, whether I want that or not. You're on my mind quite often.” You hope he means that as a compliment. Aemond seems to see your worried face so he quickly adds with a blink or a wink (it is Aemond after all): “In a pleasant manner.”

You can't fight the smile that his words bring you. That he thinks of you so often is a good sign. Your relationship is improving, you hope.

Finally, Aemond speaks.

“Revaera.’’

“Yes?”

He opens his mouth and closes it, as if unsure how to start this conversation.

“What are your plans?” you freeze. Plans. He knows. He heard of Fyrand’s plans, whatever it is they are.

You try to ease your panicked voice and your fingers that itch away at your skin.

“My plans? I don't have any plans?” You nervously blurt out.

Aemond smiles, chuckling softly. “No, I meant…for today. When I'm absent. What will you do? How will you entertain yourself?”

You ease your nerves, telling yourself he has not have one clue what you and your brother are planning. You have the feeling that Aemond is smarter than he appears, and likely sooner or later will find out.

But for now, you do have a good question to answer. How will you entertain yourself? Aemond is your husband, and besides him, you haven’t made any friends or allies at the castle. You could always swarm around, but you doubt it would end in someone befriending you.

In truth: Being outside this room terrifies you. You are worried about running into the King, the Queen and having to face them after you and your husband missed dinner. There’s also the chance that more servants have heard how you are responsible for the death of two servants. And they already didn’t like you.

You want to stay in Aemond’s room, waiting patiently by his bed until he returns and you can warmly nestle back in his arms again, where he will protect you from the cruelty and cold of this world.

“I-”

You think. “I might help Dyana with folding the laundry.” You think it is a good, productive and kind way to help your maid out and to help your husband as well.

But all Aemond does is shake his head the moment you have spoken out your thoughts. He does not approve of your plans. “I don't want that for you. You are my Lady, my princess. My wife…’ He caresses your face. “You are not my slave or my whore. You are not forced to remain within these four walls when I am gone.” He ends his sentence with a disbelieving chuckle.

He continues, grabbing hold of your hands so he may caress your wrists. You understand he does so to feel your heartbeat. Proof that you are alive and real. “You should find something fun, something that excites you and something that brings you joy. A hobby, perhaps.” He suggests, kindly but it terrifies you regardless. A hobby. He wants to distract you.

Is it because he cares so much, or is it because he is worried you might be plotting something after all? Is he aware?

You never had time for hobbies or entertainment. Fyrand made sure of that. And starting one now, outside of these rooms, in halls filled with people who hate you, without Aemond, it sounds…

Terrifying.

“I never had much of a hobby. There wasn't time for that in Pentos.” You say, dismissevely.

Aemond murmurs something, but grabs your hands tighter. “You are not in Pentos now, love. You are here. With me. We have a big library, a kennel filled with dogs and even a garden with herbs. Painting, writing, singing. It's all yours, darling.” He really wants you to find a hobby.

You are a bit afraid of dogs, so you won’t be doing that, ever. And singing, you aren’t sure Aemond knows, but you can’t sing at all. And painting, you paint your own fingers more than you paint any canvas. “That sounds..expensive. What if I drop the paint, what if the dog runs away or if the glass shatters when I start singing?” You blurt out, your thoughts leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

He laughs, amused thinking you are jesting. “The dogs are very loyal and very used to this lifestyle. It is unlikely they will even entertain that thought. Paint I can easily replace that myself for you, and I'm not sure I ever heard of a glass breaking due to poor singing.’’

He simply smiles and you know he won’t give up this matter any time soon and won’t leave this room until you have given him a proper answer. “I know what you say, Aemond. I do. It's just…For years I've been alone in a cold castle and …you are my light in the darkness. My safety net. Without you, I feel like I'm drowning.” You whisper.

His smile softens and he kisses you once more. ‘’I am not sure what this is between us. There's something there, a seed that needs to be protected. I want to watch it grow; if you do as well.” He studies your face, so you give a nod. You do.

He continues, however and gently gives you a slight push in the direction he wants your relationship to go. “But I know, it is your best interest to start learning how to stand on your own two feet.”

“How do I get the servants to obey me? They all hate me for what that blasted ancestor of mine did.” You scowl, anger getting the better of you.

Yet he seems confident that in time, all will be alright. “You'll learn in time. You already made a friend here. The servant girl will be at your disposal today. The one you convinced me to save.”

You know he made it clear why he wanted them hanged. They dared to question your virtue, therefor any children you and Aemond will have in the future. It is high treason, and Targaryens have one answer to high treason: Death.

But you feel, deep inside, that you must give it one last chance to change his mind for the better. To try to save two necks from a rope. “Did you by any chance perhaps change your mind on the others?” You ask, sweetly and unintentionally you notice you rub his hands.

His lips slowly rise, as he kisses your hands. “You are too good for this world. Too pure and too kind.” He gets up from the bed, pushing you softly aside. Rejected, you watch him.

He walks a few steps in his rooms, thinking. He continues, folding his hands on his back whenever he makes a tough choice and you know he did not change his mind at all. “But no. I did not.”

There is something final in his voice, and you understand you mustn't bring up the matter again, as it will likely cause an argument between the two of you. “I, I wish it was different but..if it's truly so dangerous for our lives and our future…” You trial off, scratching your itching skin. “Our future heir, then I accept your choice, Aemond. I trust you with this.”

Your husband sighs deeply, clearly relieved. ‘’Thank you for seeing it from my point of view. I don't enjoy spilling blood or killing. But this is an insult we must and cannot let stand.” He continues. “I wish to kiss you. Do you want me to do that?”

You laugh, finding it a little silly that he asks. He is your husband, he fucked you, he owns you, in a way. “I'm your wife.”

He does not react to that, remaining resilient. “Yes or no. Are you in the mood for a kiss? Do you want me to touch you?”

You nod, but he is not moving so you give him a verbal proper answer.

“Yes.” Aemond rejoins you on his bed, giving you a soft but loving kiss that makes your stomach flutter.

You grin, brightly and whisper in his ear. “I like our kisses.”

He kisses you again, grinning just as madly as you do. “Our. I like the sound of that.”

You notice he is eying his sword again, and understand he is soon leaving your side. Aemond leaves the bed, but you yank him back by his leg, begging him with your eyes. “Please be careful.”

He nods, smiling gently at you. “I always am. Ser Criston is a respected and skilled swordsman. He would never let any harm come to me or to Aegon.” You haven’t heard much about either Ser Criston Cole or Aegon but you hope Aemond knows what he is doing. He won the duel for your hand. That has got to mean something.

You are glad he dropped the hobby matter. “I'm glad you say that. That eases my worries.” You say.

Aemond puts his sword back on and studies himself one last time in the reflection of a mirror. “Remember what I said, Revaera. You are not my slave nor my whore. Your life is your own now. I wish you to start living it. Not just endure it. Enjoy, not just survive it. Breathe out not to hold your breath.” You sigh, softly.

“I shall do my best.” You manage to say.

He gives you a final kiss before leaving.

“That's all I can ask, see you tonight, my love.’’

You mutter back that you’ll see him tonight.

—

Not so late after Aemond left, a young, blonde woman rejoins your side. She is the woman who spoke up about the bullying of your other ladiesmaids. She also was ready to defend you against Prince Aemond. That was not needed, but still, incredibly brave and kind of her.

You gesture for her to take a seat in your husband’s chair by the fireplace. A little confused and big-eyed, she does as she is commanded. ‘’Good morrow, Princess Revaera.’’ She says.

You smile. ‘’Good morrow. I don’t believe you mentioned your name. If you did, you must forgive me, but memory isn’t my strong suit.’’ It seems to put her at ease.

‘’Dyana.’’ She says. ‘’And, uhm, yes Princess. I had already told you that. But that is fine! You can’t remember every servant’s name-’’ She rambles, a little nervous. “I am forever in your debt and at your service, Princess. You saved my life from the gallows.”

You nod, sitting down. ‘’I just pity I couldn’t talk my husband into sparing the others as well.’’ You murmur. ‘’He seemed so sure that this is the right path to take, but what if we can find another way?’’

Dyana lifts her blonde haired head. ‘’Those ladies called you a whore. They dug their own graves. Your husband is in his right.’’ That is two voices against your own judgment and your own reasons.

You look at Dyana.

“Why did you come in during our talk?”

At first Dyana shrugs, but then she looks at her hands, pulling her nails like you often do. “My mind wandered. Usually when a husband dismisses his wife's ladies she's…” she gulps. “It is not pretty. I could not live with myself thinking he would harm you for things you did not do.” She regains a certain fire in her eyes, when she speaks.

You understand she has a horrible image of how Prince Aemond truly is. A truly horrible image. “Prince Aemond was just worried about me, but I'm thankful for your kindness and your protection, Dyana. It means a lot that you would risk offending the prince, for me. A strange girl you never even met.’’

Dyana nods, eagerly and clearly proud of herself. She has every reason to. “Of course, Princess. My mother always told me I should treat everyone with kindness. Princess or peasant.” She adds. ‘’Oh, I almost forgot Princess. We must also prepare you for a banquet tonight. The King wishes to dine with his entire family, now that Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon and their children have come home from Dragonstone.’’

Dyana helps you find a suitable dress. The last time you were here, the lady's maid's you had forced you to wear Green. It would send a message to the Princess and her family. A message you don’t want to send. You want to play both sides for now, and try to find out what side your loyalty should lie, for the sake of yourself but also for you and Aemond.

So, you pick out a purple with silver gown with golden stitches and a open back. Dyana helps you lace your dress, smiling at you through the big mirror. ‘’You look stunning, Princess.’’

A voice creeps up from behind you, startling you both. “I dare say so.” You turn around, your heart in your throat and your hands sweaty.

“Fyrand.” You say.

The illustrious heir of house Marthyralys, your brother, Fyrand stands behind you and Dyana, eying your silver and purple dress with great admiration.

Your brother smiles, but you can see he is furious. ‘’I came here to see my little sister. You look ravishing for the banquette. Job well done, I’d say. You’ll have Aemond fucking you again soon.’’ That makes you uncomfortable. You didn’t dress for Aemond at all.

You are glad Dyana is still with you, pretending to be busy with small things and matters, but her watchful eyes never truly leave Fyrand.

She pretends to be busy with folding blankets to avoid the eye of your brother. “Fyrand, I don't think Aemond wants you here.” You tell him, truthfully. “He is currently with Ser Criston and Prince Aegon in the gardens, practicing his sword fighting.”

He laughs, as if he remembers something funny. Something ironic you don’t know yet. “O, I don't doubt that they are for a moment. There is much to prepare for.” He grins as if he is experiencing some irony or knows something you do not. You don't like it. “I'm your brother. You can trust me.” He adds once he sees your frown.

He seems to notice Dyana finally. “You. Girl. Go bother someone else.” Dyana does not react nor move at his command.

“Girl. Are you deaf?” He barks, becoming annoyed and approaching her too. You are too familiar with Fyrand’s cruel hand, and you don’t wish to see Dyana suffer.

“Dyana, it is fine.” You tell her, gently.

For the first time since your brother ended, she looks up. Her eyes are full of worry and fear. “Are you certain, Princess?”

“Yes.”

Dyana stops folding the laundry, and leaves you and Fyrand alone in Aemond’s rooms. The moment the door is shut, he turns on his heel, facing you. “Aemond got you a nanny, then. Does he not trust you? Does he not like you anymore? Is that why he is fighting?” You are confused. You and Aemond are doing fine. Aemond is not fighting persé, not in an emotional way. He is practicing.

“Calm down.” You manage to say when he is done firing questions at you. Aemond does seem to trust you, which is why he approved of you having a maid to attend to your womanly needs as he called it. Dyana helps you with dressing, corsets and bathing. Tasks that are a bit difficult for you as you never really had to wear such fancy gowns or look that good.

You always looked decent but never this stunning. You dress for your influence and house now, and also because you know that Aemond will like it if you put effort into it. But most of all, you dress yourself now how you want to dress. You adore the different clothing and the fabrics and how endless the possibilities seem when it comes to design of fashion.

And it's not just the fashion that has changed. Your eyes sparkle with something that you can only describe as a harvest. Seeds have been planted and withered away, yet all thanks to your own strength and endurance, you forced the seeds back into the ground to give it another go. And the result is everything you hoped it would be.

Fyrand grabs your throat, bringing you back to so many horrors. Despite having only one hand, he makes up for the loss of that by dragging his nails into your neck. “I am not calming down! I lost my left hand to get us on that ship. I lost everything to save you. The least you can do is repay me back for what you owe me.” You try to get his hands off your neck, and once you start choking, he does so.

You wait for him to explain the plan.

“What is my mission exactly?”

He scoffs at your stupidity. ‘’Gain the trust of the Targaryens and the Hightowers. Aemond likes you and tolerates you. That is clear to see. The King however, does not. I think that will change the moment you give birth to a beautiful silver haired child.” His last remaining hand pets your belly.

You think back of your mother.

“You know why birthing is a difficult topic for me.” You whisper, soft.

Fyrand burst into laughter. “For you? As if you even knew our mother who died when you came out of her, as some monster crawling out of a corpse.” He laughs, oblivious to your own pain.

You don’t understand how this will make the King happy. He has plenty of silver haired grandchildren. “Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena have already gifted him grandchildren. Even Princess Rhaenyra has her own babies who qualify-”

Fyrand groans, warning you of his temper. “Prince Aemond would like to have an heir. And you will like having a son. As all women do. You will like nurturing it and taking care of it.”

You aren’t sure. For you never had a mother to begin with. Who would teach you how to be a mother? “What if I don't? What If I'm a terrible mother?” Fyrand laughs, before hitting you across your face. “Don't test my patience again.” He adds. ‘’Focus on getting pregnant. You and Aemond fuck enough for that happen, I’ve heard.’’

You are seething he dared to hit you. Again. Any other time, you would’ve let him. But not this time. You grit your teeth.

‘’Who freed you?’’

Fyrand smirks, but does not tell you.

‘’We have a foot in the door, dear sister. Your husband isn’t the only one who has taken a liking to you.’’

And with that he leaves you with more questions than answers.

—

Prince Aemond asked you to find a hobby, so you will at least make an effort for it. For your love. For this seed, you both want to see it grow. So, you leave his chambers in your new evening gown and make your way down to the big stairs.

You don’t know where you are going, but somehow, your feet take you to the courtyard. You notice a dark haired male fighting with someone with familiar long, gorgeous and lucious silver hair. Your husband. You smile, approaching the two from a distant, careful to not interrupt their practice. Aemond dodges and drops his shattered shield, before avoiding the morningstar of the man. That must be Ser Criston.

You watch your husband and Cole both give it their all, and you don’t know you are holding your breath until it is all finished and Aemond holds his sword at Cole’s throat. Cole yields, and soon the gathered crowd applauds at the Prince’s skills. Yourself included.

You feel the urge to approach him, so you do, step for step and gently but by doing so, you are listening in to a conversation between Prince Aemond and Prince Aegon.

Prince Aegon is shorter, as is his hair.

‘’Your wife. How is she settling in?’’ You freeze. They are talking about you. You don’t know why, but you quickly hide between two tall men.

Aemond cleans his sword, sharpening it as well, shrugging and clearly trying to hide his smile. ‘’Revaera is doing well, all things considered.’’ You are glad he says so.

His brother grins.

‘’She eyes me as very eager to please. You should exploit that. Perhaps invite a lady into your bed. Revy will do as you command her. Perhaps she'll learn to like it as well.’’ Disgusted, you growl.

Aemond steps closer to Aegon, his sword still in his hand. ‘’Her name is Revaera. She has endured enough torture for a lifetime, I don't intent for it to continue when I vowed to protect and honour her.’’ He lashes out, groaning.

The other Prince scoffs. ‘’Such a protective little husband you have become. And so quickly. Whatever Revaera keeps between her legs must be absolutely divine. Do not forget who your loyalty should be to.’’ Aemond sighs, embarrassed his brother had to remind him of duty for once.

‘’My wife has proven no threat, Aegon. You know them. They were traitors once.’’ Aemond suddenly stops talking, and smiles when he notices you. Instead of berating you, he rushes to your side, sweeping you off your feet for a kiss.

‘’There you are.’’ He declares, as if you went for centuries without one another’s touch. Aegon rolls his eyes and throws his sword on the ground, not even bothering to put it away.

‘’I was uhm...How did the training go?’’ You ask, your cheeks still warmed because of all the eyes aimed at you and your husband.

Aemond frowns as you two make your way inside the castle. ‘’As well as to be expected. I worry for Aegon. He is getting better but I see so much wasted potential and its driving me insane.’’ He confesses, confiding in you. You feel proud he wants to share such things with you. You don’t know what to say that will make it better, so you instead rub his hands.

He smiles, accepting your love.

‘’New gown?’’ He asks, studying your stunning purple gown. He has a good eye. You assumed most men wouldn’t even notice that.

You smile, breaking free from his grasp and make a twirl and a spin for him, so he may see the whole thing. ‘’Yes. Do you like it?’’ You ask, smiling still.

He breaks into a grin. ‘’Very much so, but do you?’’

You think. Yes, you do. ‘’I like how soft the fur coat is. I like the pretty sparkles. Thank you for clothing me. Thank you for spending coins on me. It's the prettiest dress I ever laid eyes upon. ‘’You get a bit emotional too, realizing that this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.

Aemond shrugs, humble and modest and gives you a kiss on your cheeks. ‘’A dress is like a blank canvas. It becomes art when the artist brings it to life. The dress itself is pretty, but you make it eternal.’’ ‘’And, no worries about my coin and funds, love. I would not have taken a wife if I could not provide for her. And don't feel guilty too, as you can hardly walk around naked.’’ He jests, but he grins, whispering. ‘’Not that I would complain…’’

You chuckle.

You giggle, and your lips share a embrace as if you are two smitten teens. That is when you notice that the Prince has been injured. His hand has a cut, a small bleeding wound.

‘’O,’’ You mutter, looking closer at the wound. ‘’You are hurt.’’

‘’It's just a scratch.’’ Prince Aemond says, dismissively. ‘’It happens when you are fighting.’’

You grab his hands, forcing him to stand still. ‘’No, it's not.’’ It is not just a scratch.

Aemond blushes, smiling at you.

‘’I mean…’’ You stutter, aware you gave your husband an order and defied him.

But he does not seem to care.

‘’Yes?’’ Is all he asks with a kind gentle and hopeful smile.

You take him by his arm.

‘’Come. We shall find a maester for you.’’

‘’That is really not needed, my dear.’’

Yet you can't help but notice the smile on his lips and the gentle shimmer of hope in his eye.

‘’Why are you smiling?’’ You ask, shaking your head at your silly husband. Aemond shrugs, pretending to be fine, but you notice his voice has become emotional.

‘’Perhaps I’ve always wanted someone to worry for me. Anyone who wasn’t forced by blood to do so.’’

----

Yeah let me know what you think of this chapter! Next chapter we have the big dinner and also aemond will be undergoing surgery for his wounds /joke.

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monstrouslyobsessed · 4 months ago

Text

(jack) frost in the glass window

—alone on the expedition, with your shelter buried in the snow, you couldn’t help but think you were far from being alone.

—a/n: the edit on the maze commission is taking a minute so...i finished another very old thing while yall wait!! this is very tame, more on creepy atmosphere than anything, but still, hope you enjoy anyway~<3 i tried to incorporate all the common lore as i can in this piece too.

—tw / tags: gn reader, isolation, haunted, implied confinement, reader is in an existing relationship, implied kidnapping, implied teratophilia(?), implied exophilia(?), general yandere themes(?), long post, sfw.

—featured character(s): jack frost? (implied)

“Alright,” you sighed, suppressing the urge to grimace as your partner donned a mask and secured shaded goggles. You could hear the ecstatic sled dogs blaring their songs, their yowls resonating throughout the vast, untouched sea of snow. “I don’t see why we couldn’t wait for another day for the supply run.”

Your partner’s name tasted slightly sour with your irritation.

The weather forecast had been quite clear about the coming blizzard. For your partner to leave now was not an idea you could agree with, fearing for their life.

Nor were you comfortable being alone, in the middle of the nowhere tundra. This cabin always felt so oppressive, small, in ways you couldn’t describe. It was as if there were presences much larger than just you, your partner, and the dogs—and you couldn’t see them beyond the shadowy horizon of trees and snow.

“Maybe, but we’re running out,” your partner tossed a thumb over their shoulder toward the still-closed door, where the dogs were still howling, “of their food. There ain’t no hunt around I can get for ‘em either.”

You finally allowed a grimace to wash over your face.

Before you could argue, your partner yanked on the last glove and gave you a long look. “If I don’t go tomorrow, those stinkers won’t have enough energy for the full run—and I won’t be able to come home with a full supply for another month. You know how ridiculous their metabolisms are.”

Shit.

No matter how much you wanted to protest their decision, they were right. It would be gambling with not only the dogs’ lives, but yours and your partner’s as well. But, staying here alone was not an idea you wanted to entertain either.

“Maybe I should go with you—” you tried, but your partner interrupted you with a shake of their head.

“No. If something goes wrong out there with me and the dogs, we won’t have enough supplies for both of us. Here, there’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. I just need you to hold down the fort,”

At the wrinkles in your crossed face, they sighed, straightened their insulated jacket, and tapped your face. You turned your chin out of their reach and they tutted, lowering their thickly gloved hand. “The dogs and I will be back before you know it, babe. Alright? Everything will be fine—and I’ll keep the radio with me.”

You huffed, before your tension softened. With yet another sigh, you closed in and readjusted your partner’s mask. “Sorry. You know I just don’t like being alone in this weird cabin.”

They laughed, grasping your hands to their lips. “That again? It’s just an old homesteader’s cabin. The family that used to live here, were a bunch of homebodies who never bothered no one.”

“Yeah, those ‘bunch of homebodies’ got a bunch of weird rumors from the locals, you know. Something about missing kids.” You grumbled in reply, leaning into their warmth with a resigned slump.

“Rumors are rumors. Just be happy we got a nice roof over our heads for this expedition.” They reminded you kindly. Retreating from your presence at the sound of one dog’s near-screeching demand, your partner tugged you into a hug and pressed their cheek against yours with a mumble, “You’re a trooper, I know you’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I get to the point B and loaded up with the goods, okay?”

It was hard to agree, but you weren’t ignorant to the urgency. With a sudden pang of unease, you relented and huffed, “You better be safe and come back to me in one piece.”

They chuckled at your grumble and crossed their heart with a near-mocking promise.

You smacked them for their attitude, but it was enough to upturn your lips a little.

Just like that, you stood in front of a fogged window, watching your partner start the sled dogs with a confident shout and steer them through the snowy landscape. You remained until they were no longer dots on the horizon and your shoulders sagged. Already the cabin felt darker, with every shadow seemingly creeping ever so closer to you.

Shivering from the chill, you shook off the residues of your disappointment and decided to pursue brewing your favorite hot beverage for comfort. Stocking the fireplace with more wood wasn’t a chore you were keen on doing right now, but any distraction was better than dwelling on how creepy this place was. You rubbed your hands and resigned to yourself to being alone for gods only knows how many days before your partner and the dogs returned.

“I’m an adult,” you tried boasting up your confidence, to ignore whatever entity that continued to haunt this old cabin. “I’ll be fine.”

You were being silly, the feeling of constantly being watched wouldn’t make sense in such an icy, isolated land. There were no other living souls else out there in the immediate proximity for miles around. It was probably a hungry predator eying you like a meal.

If that was the case, you already had several guns nearby for self-defense.

But it wouldn’t explain the feeling within the very building itself—

You shook yourself out of that train of thought, realizing you were overworking your imagination again.

You needed your hot drink.

Bundled up in nothing but layers of blankets, you sat before the crackling fireplace and flipped through your book.

Yet, you couldn’t seem to absorb a single printed word off any page. Every letter you read blurred together in a jumbled, black mess. Your brain was in chaos, riding high on anxiety you couldn’t let go of.

You couldn’t stop your knee from bouncing and your hands from trembling. Your blood ran hot and your ears rang loudly from the eerie silence. Your throat hurt—

Abandoning your book to a nearby table, you tightened your cocoon and grimaced at how hot you felt—yet your exposed face was so cold, even with the fireplace roaring a mere several feet away. You felt helplessly alone.

Checking the grandfather clock not too far away for the umpteenth time, you buried your face against your knees in defeat. It was getting dark—and pacing around and trying to fruitlessly distract yourself as the blizzard rattled the cabin, had only helped in feeding the anxiety.

Reading was a futile endeavor, with you hyper-alert to each howling wind that passed over the roof and some distant wails, doubtlessly from some lonely arctic animal.

…You hoped they were from those animals and not some yeti-like creatures from the unknown depths of the frozen wasteland. It would be far too silly to believe otherwise, but you feverishly prayed anyway. Nothing more than your imagination acting out from sheer loneliness.

Utterly freezing, you scooted a little closer to the fire and rubbed your hands and feet, desperate for some heat to calm your shivering nerves.

The shadows crept closer.

You remained fixated to the fire, imagining yourself and your partner on vacation in some warm country, perhaps relaxing on a beach on a sunny, cloudless day. Not a speck of white snow in sight.

Absently, you plotted to guilt your partner into finishing the job early, mentally outlining how you would get your way. Schemes formed. Imaginary debates followed, maybe ending in deals and offers to sweeten the proposals.

...Anything to ignore the darkness looming ever so closer with every breath.

Then something fluttered.

You whipped around, your sudden movement tumbling layers of thick quilts off your shoulders. They piled up on the rug around you.

“Just some wind,” you said to yourself, not quite convinced that it could move the window curtains like so from inside the cabin. They were heavy, designed to prevent snow blindness, especially in the early morning.

There were certainly no wind inside the house either.

Shaking your head, desperately trying to curb your growing anxiety, you turned back to the fire and pulled the blankets back over your shoulders. You hastily reassured yourself, “Just a trick of the light,”

That was all it was.

Maybe you should just go straight to bed, you decided. But, it was almost impossible to sleep when it was so bitterly cold.

Still, neither was it good for you to be inducing yourself in the state of panic over the littlest thing, just because you were lonely and trapped in the middle of the white nowhere.

“Bedtime it is,” you sighed, roughening some ashes around the roaring fire to bank it. There were few other choices otherwise, and you were reluctant to extinguish the fire when it was colder than hell itself.

Gathering your quilts around you, their hefty weights nearly pulling you down to the floor, you marched to your bedroom like some kind of caped idiot. Your shoulders started to ache a little, but you refused to release your cherish blankets, ignoring your age. You walked past a window, minding the knickknacks in your path and mentally complaining about how crippled you’d felt as you got older.

You paused.

“Huh?” You turned, twisting in your quilts as you leaned back to the window.

Your brows furrowed in annoyance at the sight of the opened curtains. Clenching the thick fabric, you grumbled, “I didn’t open this.”

You jerked them close, not willing to suffer a case of snow blindness the first thing in the morning—

Your screams swelled, but it couldn’t leave your throat as you refused to acknowledge what you saw. Your mind was loud, screaming like the symphony of the sled dogs, but you forced yourself to maintain a mask. You just needed to go to bed.

You didn’t see a pair of wide eyes staring down at you from the top panes of the window, through a fine dusting of frost. You didn’t catch a glimpse of something very tall standing waist deep in the snow, unmoving even against the raging blizzard. It simply didn’t exist.

Just a trick of the light from the fire.

The shadows in the cabin drew closer as you retreated to your bed.

It got colder.

In the distance, you heard the fire flicker out to its last ember.

You tried not to shove yourself under your bed, pretending that everything was normal. Tucking yourself under your quilts, you curled within yourself, and closed your eyes, bidding for a peaceful sleep.

You did not see the white fog of your breath escaping your lips.

Icy fingers curled over your biceps through the layers of quilts.

You forced yourself to pretend, suppressing the growing urge to whimper deep in your throat.

“You cannot hide from winter—for I am the cold you cannot escape from, my dear.”

Your partner will inevitably come home to an empty cabin, with every inch covered in fine frost inside.

—end.

#my writing #monster's writing. 👹#yandere #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #tetrophilia #exophilia #reader insert #long post #unedited #sfw #concept #gn reader #jack frost

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