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hyunebunx · 4 months ago

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˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33

“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”

You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.

“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.

Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”

“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”

No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.

Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”

You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.

“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.

“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.

“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.

“Liar.”

For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.

“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.

“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”

“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”

“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.

“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.

“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.

“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”

Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”

He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.

Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.

That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.

Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”

“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”

Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”

“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”

“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.

“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”

Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.

“Baby.”

Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.

“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.

“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”

And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.

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ohimsummer · 3 months ago

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lovey-dovey, kiss, kiss

— cult leader! suguru x puppy hybrid! reader, fluff :33, lots of kissing, clingy reader, pet names (lovely, darling, (my) angel, sleepyhead)

wc 1.1k

it’s a little past midnight when geto finally arrives home. he didn’t mean to stay so late at the temple, but the workload is above his head at this point and he’s behind. though you might be disappointed, geto is still certain you’ll understand, if you care at all besides just getting to see him again.

he pulls out his keys, cringing at the harsh sound of the jingle which shatters the night’s silence.

“suguru?”

he can’t help but smile at the muffled call of your voice from inside, imagining the alert look on your face, and those perked puppy ears as you tilt your head at the noise. there’s a quick patter of footsteps as geto puts the keys in the lock.

“suguru! suguru, suguru, suguru!”

the gap in the door is barely an inch wide before you’re shoving your way through. geto doesn’t even have the chance to step inside before you’re in his arms, embracing him in a hug as you whine and yip excitedly in his ear.

he tightens an arm around your waist so you don’t fall—muscle memory. you tend to step on geto’s feet if he doesn’t, always so eager to hop up and kiss him everywhere as a welcome home that you don’t even realize.

your legs instinctively coil around his waist. “suguru! how’s your day been, lovely? i missed you! it got so boring here without you.”

“yeah?,” he murmurs, kicking the door closed behind him and finally returning one of the many kisses you pepper him with. it calms you and your wiggling motions if only for a moment, but the wag of your tail never stops. “i missed you too, pretty.” another short peck, this time to your lips and it has you giggling in excitement. “it’s late. have you been up waiting for me?”

“maaaybe!”, you confess immediately. it’s cute. geto knows that you know he doesn’t like you staying up all the time waiting for him to get home, but the thought doesn’t even cross your mind to lie. you’re too busy licking and kissing at his neck, nibbling here and there to smother your beloved owner in the love that’s been brewing all day.

geto whisks you away down the hall, speaking a hushed summary of his day through your barrage puppy love.

“you’re such a busy man.”, you huff at him. “you should stay home more.”

geto smiles at you. despite the downturn of your brows to give him an angry glare, your still-wagging tail gives away your genuine feelings. you would never truly be mad at him.

he places you on the bed in futile hopes that you will stay put while he goes for a shower, but geto can sense you right on his heels the moment his back turns. the smile etched on his face grows wider until his eyes are upturned into little crescent moons—of course you wouldn’t actually stay away from him for a single second. not when geto’s been gone so long already.

you ask about all the more non-work related details of today—about the girls, what he ate today (and was it good? no? you laugh at that, and it makes his heart thump in his chest), did he enjoy the sunlight? because the weather was really nice, today. (he didn’t get a chance to, and you make geto promise to do so with you next time the weather is sunny and cool out). they’re all seemingly frivolous questions at random, but geto knows you just adore hearing him talk.

with the water warming up, he begins shedding his robes. it’s like you’re both in sync, the way you strip down right next to him. geto holds out a hand to slow you, grabbing your waist to help you into the shower so you don’t slip and fall—again. the silly consequence of being too hot on his heels while following him under the steamy stream of water.

it quiets down once you’re in the shower together. he’s tired from the day’s chores, and you’re simply happy to have your dearest suguru in your arms again. geto let’s you pamper him, massaging his scalp as you knead fingers and shampoo through his long mane. he pauses washing himself for a minute, content in watching you take care of him, enjoying your delicate touch beneath the hot water. you take note immediately, because you’re always so focused on suguru and everything he does.

“you’re spoiled.” and he can only laugh at your comment, and the playful pout on your lips.

“lucky me that it’s by my darling angel, then, hm?”, suguru leans down and murmurs, sneaking a quick kiss and smiling at the adorable scrunch of your face.

“mm.” a hum in agreement. “i love you, sugu.”, you tell him once, and press a smooch to his nose. he smells of sage and sandalwood.

“i love you so much.”, suguru whispers against your adoring smile, between your lips so his words may seep into every inner inch of your body. he squeezes your hips, pulling you a bit closer to bury his nose in your neck. it tickles.

with the shower finished, geto engulfs you in a towel first, and then himself. you do your nightly routine with him (or re-do, he would say. because geto knows you do it twice sometimes, intent on never letting him do his own before-bed activities alone.)

he lets you continue tending to his hair—drying it, brushing, and then tying it up, finally slipping a silk bonnet over his head to protect the pretty treasure beneath. you finish it off with yet another kiss to his forehead. and then you drag him along by the wrist, turning back to smile at him, and geto almost trips as you tug him down onto the bed.

“alright, c’mon!”. geto watches you get situated under the plush covers, then pat his usual spot besides you. “into bed, sleepyhead, you’ve been working all day. time for some rest.”

everything about you is perfect. you’re so doting, so loving, and so eager on top of it all. suguru loves you with his whole heart, his whole soul.

he slips beneath the sheets next to you, and you’re cuddled up to his chest immediately. you apparently both have the same idea as he leans down to kiss your forehead and you lean up to kiss his chin, resulting in a sudden peck on the lips. both of you giggle like children at the interaction, before he pulls you in for another kiss on the lips.

“i love you.”, you’re telling him again, and before he can even respond, “i love you so much, sugu.”

and geto let’s you confess your love to him again and again and again—over his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his neck, his knuckles, anywhere you can think to press a gentle kiss to punctuate your love. you will tell him over and over until it’s all he can think about, branded as common knowledge into his brain so he never forgets.

your quiet acts of affection lull him to sleep, but suguru is sure to murmur one last ‘i love you, my angel’ before dozing off.

🐶: @soraya-daydreams @starlightanyaaa @luvvmae @domainexpansionmypants @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @jumpbackickbackwhiparoundandspin @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @bubblez-blop @lovesickliyue @kisstoru @blindbabycadder @itztamar @blkkizzat @sobbangchan @justkbree1 @notdwenby @sugoroo @hellokittyish @andyramblingstuff @usbrous @heliumshorns @kenmathings @deepenthevoid @risuola @bunnymacaron

#suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto fluff #geto fluff #geto x reader fluff #geto x reader #cw hybrids #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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tojisun · 10 months ago

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this is an edit of my drunken thought last night but

hockey player simon is in my head right now—

thinking about how you are watching from the seats closest to the rink, and startling when he body-slams an opponent against the glass protector only for your eyes to meet his when he pulled away with a quiet snarl and snapped his head up in his anger.

he couldn’t have truly seen you, you tell yourself. he’s caught up in the middle of a game, high off his adrenaline, so you are damn sure that he didn’t really catalogue the interaction. that it was a fluke—eyes meet without the conscious awareness from the brains, you know that.

but.

riley (41) somehow began to gravitate towards your end of the rink, only slipping away for assists or to catch his mark. sure, the seat you chose was close to the ones that are angled well to the goal so perhaps that’s why he kept coming back, but there’s something electrifying at seeing the way he scans the crowd during the two-minute breaks, stopping when his eyes finally rest on you, before he skates away.

it makes your heart flutter, blood jumping as your mind runs with imaginations. you try smothering the blooming hope that maybe, just maybe, this man you idolize somehow is attracted to you. that somehow, amidst the craze and the adrenaline, you were able to leave such an imprint on him.

but the game rages on, with specgru managing to carve a tie against their opponents with mactavish (91) scoring a point. it makes the arena shake as screams and jumps erupt from your side of the rink; horns blaring as victory now seemed to be on the horizon. even the goalie, price (2), runs to mactavish, tapping his bucket, fond even in his excitement.

time runs. you swallow, parched, your eyes flicking between the screens and the rink itself as the tension reached new heights. your friend holds your hand, her nails digging into your skin, but you don’t even notice as you clock in riley’s fast skating, his blades slashing against the ice with intense ferocity.

garrick (33) passed the puck, and riley receives it.

your throat constricts, your eyes going wide. you plant your feet onto the floor, unconsciously tensing your muscles. your eyes follow his move, watching the way he devours the space to get to the best shooting spot—that sliver of angle in front of you.

you watch with bated breath, palm over your chest, but it takes your friend shaking you to realize what’s going on.

the roaring of the stadium is all of a sudden muffled as your mind catches up to your eyes, now finding meaning to what exactly it is you’re seeing. your friend is screaming your name but you’re deaf to it all, focused only on the man before you.

riley, the man that he is, points at you. then he turns, swinging his lumber, sending the puck flying past the goalie’s legs and into the net.

it happened so fast—barely a second or two—riley’s point and his score—but it unfolded so clearly before your eyes and victory sings in your blood.

“what was that!?” your friend screeches, pulling you up now that the game has reached its end with the specgru claiming their second win.

you try to tell her that you don’t know, that you don’t even understand what the hell actually just happened, but your voice refuses to form and your mind is back to buffering and riley is still staring at you—

jesus.

he is still staring at you.

god—

guys idek what this was but i woke up and saw bulletpoints of a thought so uhhh heres an attempt 😭

pt.02

mlist!

#the delusions are through the roof and you’re NOT going to @ me bc id actually kms if yall judged me 😭#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #suns #q #hockey au

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vxnuslogy · 2 months ago

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╭────── the challenge for a new king ✦ ⸝⸝

✦ ⭑𓂃 honkai: star rail ┆ mydei .ᐟ ──╯

𐔌 warnings. mentions of blood, ooc-mydei (written before official release) ♟ notes. mydei kisserhood is infectious and so is the ithaca saga's "the challenge." my favorite mydei kisser sol (@st6rly) this is for you <33

━━━ art credits. hoyoverse ♟ tags. @lowkeyren @starcharmed @mikashisus @https-sourlimes @dazaisms @powchakko @pneumosia ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms on my pinned!!

౨ৎ crown prince of kremnos, mydeimos — your lover from a past life, eternally bound to you and you wouldn't have it any other way.

the clamor of suitors in the palace’s main hall rings in your ears like a cacophony of arrogant laughter. even in the comforts of your room, as your servants dress you in ceremonial robes — garments reserved for only the eyes of your husband now will lay bare for the hundreds of men waiting for you downstairs — strike a nervous trail of ice on your back.

from the corner of your eyes, you see your council take away the stacks of papers on your table. after all, your duty as a monarch will be stripped away once a king is chosen. you will no longer need to trouble yourself with this kingdom’s affair — it hurts you deeply; the people you’ve served since you were a child now bid you farewell without sparing you a second glance.

“your highness,” a gruff voice from your bedroom door called out. “everyone is waiting for you at the banquet hall. they eagerly await your answer.”

with a sigh, you raise your hand to signal your servants to stop. all of them slowly step away from your figure as you grimace at your reflection. a white girdle wrapping around your frame and decked from head to toe with gold — you truly looked like a prize to be won. you turn on your heels and walk out of the comforts of your room, the high council and servants following you as your head remains low and eyes strained on the marble floor. the intricate swirls of red and gold marble, its presence guiding you the banquet hall, stir a bittersweet ache in your chest, reminding you of the weight of what will transpire today. shouts and whistles of men grow louder and louder, the noise making you tug at the red cloth in your hair. taking a deep breath, you steadied your nerves as the giant doors in front of you opened.

everyone stills like statues of grand heroes as you walk to your throne. your mother and father sit beside you and like any other day after deciding you were of age to marry. you father reminds you sternly about who to choose.

“a king must be courageous; unafraid of the lengths of danger to protect his kingdom.”

“does this length of danger include the death of his spouse?”

you don’t miss the sudden flash of panic in your father’s eyes as you continue to gaze at the massive banquet hall. heart hammering in your chest as one by one, your suitors came to the front to introduce themself. you barely gave them any attention, only prompting you to give a nod of acknowledgement. from the corner of your eye, you see your father whispering to a council member. they both look at you with a hint of agitation but you only shift your gaze in front. at one point, you had grown parch from all their introductions and asked for a servant to bring you a drink. as you sip the wine from your cup as each man grew bolder and bolder. you don’t recall them having to witness their introductions this close.

irritation flared in you when you notice one of the guards stationed in front of your throne let one suitor approach you closely. if you had not glared at the guard, he would have only stood there, playing ignorant.

“enough,” your voice cut through the hall like a sharp knife. every man in the room — mother, father and council included — looked at you in shock. “i’ve had enough of listening to nonsensical chatter. we will settle this engagement the old fashioned way.”

before you can take another step down your throne, you feel your father tug at your arm in a single harsh motion. his eyes were blazing with frustration, searching for any reason why you would do this. in his survey, his eyes eventually settle on the piece of red cloth keeping your hair together before drifting to the band of gold on your right arm, the single blue bead mocking him as it glistened. you feel an onslaught of pride shattering words bubble in his throat but you don’t give him the chance to say them.

you dash down to the center table of the hall and take off the cloth hiding a giant spear.

“whoever can wield my husband's old spear, and shoot it through twelve axes cleanly will be the new king, sit on the throne and rule with me as the monarch.”

the hall murmurs in confusion at your challenge. for all they knew, you were as pure as morning dew — unmarried. you tilt your head high, urging anyone to try and wield the heavy weapon. the challenge seemed easy enough on paper, but as the twelve axes were set in place and as you stood on the other end of them, no suitor dared to move from their place.

“[name] you will cease this behavior this instant and call off this challenge!” your father’s loud voice echoes in the hall as everyone turns their heads to stare you down. but you proudly stare back, face cold as you watch if anyone tries while your father angrily makes his way to the center table with the spear.

“how did you get this?!” he asks, turning to look at every staff member and council member present. “who gave it to you?! do you understand what you’ve done, child? you’re asking for a death wish!”

“you and i know, father, that the person who wields that weapon would not let a single scratch appear on my person.” you proudly exclaim, cradling the band on your arm tenderly.

the guards present in the hall slowly circle your figure, weapons glinting in a deadly light as they point the blade to you. the silence following your proclamation was followed by a loud clattering of the spear against the marble floors echoes as your father struggles to stow it away. his frustration and your amusement was palpable — he might have been this kingdom’s most formidable fighter, but he still wasn’t a match for your lover. his eyes glare at you as you laugh, the sound so mocking more and more men began to try their luck but no one could even lift it an inch above the ground.

and then, the doors of the hall swings open with a thundering crash.

unconscious bodies of guards fall beneath his feet as his presence commanded the attention of everyone. clad in golden armor and a red tunic, mydei’s fierce eyes didn’t linger for even a second on anyone in the room until they settled on you. a glint of recognition and equal amusement flock his eyes — uncovering the many layers of depth of your history together.

the suitors part like the waves as he makes his way to the fallen spear on the floor. mydei easily lifts the spear in one fluid motion, ripping off the red cloth binding the golden blade. your breath hitches in your throat as memories of a past your family tried so hard to bury come rushing out — images of past battles and sacrifices, side by side you conquered, and a love too strong fate had to intervene.

your husband has come to get you.

“i accept this challenge.” his voice is steady and calm, it cuts through every person in the room.

you don’t move an inch in your spot on the other end of the axes, even as mydei prepared to shoot. gasps ripple through the walls, you remain unafraid of the man you know would find you no matter the distance. your father pales in the distance, ordering the remaining guards to disarm him immediately. he steps forward, blocking his shot, and angrily glares at the prince.

“you are the reason for [name]’s curse! you were the one to poison my child’s thinking with those relics from the past. they are no longer your lover! begone and never return!” he shouts but with one forceful shove, your father was face to face with the floor.

mydei’s grip on the spear tightens as he steps past your father, voice an octave lower and seething with rage.

“‘poison?’” he asks, incredulously. eyes narrowed dangerously at your father’s pitiful state on the floor. “is that what you call loyalty that defies death itself? or the truth you’ve tried to bury under lies and manipulation?”

he casts a quick glance at you as you chuckle under your breath. a brief moment of tenderness flicker in his gaze, a silent promise renewed.

your father desperately scrambles to his feet, his composure cracking under mydei’s presence and accusations. murmurs of questions erupts from the suitors. the high council pitifully tries to intervene, calling out to deafened ears, but they are overpowered by the man in red.

mydei shifts his focus back on the axes, ignoring your father’s weak protests. he hefts the spear with familiarity, wielding it as if it was as easy as breathing. the room watches with bated breath as he takes aim, you close your eyes and flashes of a younger warrior invades your mind.

his ash stricken arms and face, crying out to you to not leave him. with a small giggle, you oblige and vowed to fate itself, that if you were to ever leave his side, you will accept a punishment even worse than death.

mydei throws the spear. as it soars through the air, you hear the axes clamor to the ground one by one by your feet as a strong gust of wind passes the side of your head. when you hear the twelfth axe fall to the ground, you open your eyes to the sound of gasps and cries of astonishment.

mydei strides in confidence, kicking past every axe cut in half, his gaze is locked on yours. with each step, you’re reminded of your past with him. the red scarf gifted on your birthday to survive against the cold, a golden band with a singular bead of blue he crafted with his bare hands, and the experience honed after years of training with him. he stops right before you and drops to one knee, one hand to his chest as he plants the spear upright before him.

“you were always the reckless one between the two of us,” his low chuckle sent shivers down your spine, his gaze holding the weight of promises from past lives. “you remain to have the final say, my love. will you defy fate with me once more?”

as if to emphasize his words, flashes of the past glimmer in the back of your mind like a newly discovered gem. through bloodshed and sacrifices in vain — every bloody death centered around you — you find small moments of respite. beneath the shade of an olive tree, you and mydei find a moment of solace, resting side by side as the weight of your vow comes crashing down.

“you are a careless monarch,” he grumbles, ruffling the blonde hair you’ve kept neat despite the chaos. he sighs, chest heaving as he breathes and looks at you almost forlornly. “you’ve cursed yourself for eternity with me.”

“how is that a curse?” you rebut with a smile. you tear your eyes from him and suddenly the landscape darkens. stone by stone, a palace is built around the olive tree you both cherished. from your side, mydei stands. his helm in hand, his hands and voice commanding as more and more servants appear before you, while you sat idly by the tree’s base. a smile — soft and adoring — as mydei tries to hide the flush of his cheeks.

he turns his head slightly to ask, “an eternity with me… do you not find that revolting?”

you chuckle, your voice carrying a warmth that contrasts the night sky that’s making its presence known. “if it were eternity with anyone else, i would agree,” you reply, fingers brushing mindlessly at the bark of the olive tree. “my dear mydei, with you, it is a gift i would always ask for.”

he stills, movement halting with time as the palace is engulfed in flames. his gaze once sharp now softens as he approaches you, “you say that now,” he murmurs, kneeling before you. “but will you feel the same when the weight of eternity and fate crush you? when all but me begins to fade, and only we remain, will you still call the love that binds us a blessing?”

you cradle his face in your hand relish how he melts in your palm. even with the distant clamor of death and destruction, his eyes remained glued to you. gently, your fingers begin to brush against his cheek as he sighs in contentment. “love will always be a blessing for us. i will never regret loving you, mydei. not even for a single moment. through all the bloodshed, sacrifices, and lifetime… my heart has never wavered.”

mydei closes his eyes, “you have always been braver than i. always the first to shift the burden of us on your shoulders, even if doubts claws at you.”

“and i have you to thank for always being my reason,” you counter. “to fight, to endure, to hope. even in another life, i will always find my way back to you — or find a way for you to find me.”

the vision begins to fade, the palace halls taking life of its own, stretching far beyond the olive tree that remains at its heart — a symbol of your eternal love. even as the present rushes back, you find yourself clutching mydei’s hand, the warmth of his palm grounding you.

“and if i must be cursed,” your whisper, a loving smile gracing your lips. “then let it always be with you and no one else.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#mydei x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #mydei x you #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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bimbosicko · 1 month ago

Text

GET HIM BACK !

when sam accidentally sees dean in bed with two girls, you decide to give him the idea of getting revenge and get him back ۶ৎ

pairings ! sam winchester x fem! reader

warnings ! english isn't my first language, creampie! wrap it before you tap it guys, season three sam winchester, sam is an awkward dork, reader is a BIGGER awkward dork, it starts as a joke and ends with sex... lmao. this is fluff!! with sex!! porn with 2k of plot 😭, let's have a shot whenever i mention cheeks or the word fuck and let's get BUSTED.

author's note ! he's so cute i love him sm (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) remember!! my asks are open and everything you need to know ab myself is in the pinned post in my blog, ily<33

word count ! 5,1 k of words wtf is wrong with me!!

dean's version not related to this os!

"I am traumatized."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Sam, you're not traumatized..." you said, your voice tinged with amusement, the edges of a smile playing on your lips.

"I've seen Kama Sutra positions that were easier than whatever was going on in that room," he added, your laughter echoed in the room, and for a moment, you felt the familiar ease you always had with Sam.

"God, you're hilarious," you said, shaking your head. "Don't ever change."

"I think that experience changed me," he muttered, sounding truly displeased.

"Come on," you shrugged. "He deserves to have a little fun every now and then. I mean... he doesn't have much time left." The lightness in your voice faltered as the words left your mouth, and you regretted them the moment you saw the way Sam's face darkened.

"Hey," he said sharply, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. "Don't say that. We'll find a way."

You nodded, though the uncertainty in your expression must have betrayed you. "If you say so, Sammy..." The nickname slipped off your tongue as naturally as breathing, like it belonged there. At this point, the bond between you two felt as unshakable as the tides meeting the shore. He noticed, of course, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your chest.

Sam rolled his eyes then, trying to shake off the weight of the moment. "You’re lucky you were asleep during all that. If not, I would’ve sent you to the room," he grumbled with a mock huff.

Your nose wrinkled at his suggestion, heat rising to your cheeks. "Well..." you trailed off, looking anywhere but at him.

His brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by well?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

You covered your face with both hands, already regretting opening your mouth. "I didn’t want to see that!" you squeaked, your voice muffled by your palms. Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of his gaze on you.

Sam leaned closer, the proximity making your pulse race. "Wait, wait, wait..." he said, his tone lighter now but with a hint of teasing curiosity. "Are you saying you pretended to be asleep?"

Your eyes widened as you peeked through your fingers, only to find his smirk growing. "Sam!" you whined, your embarrassment mounting.

He tilted his head, grinning now, a mischievous glint in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "So, you did. Wow, I thought you were fearless, but apparently, even you have limits."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. But the way he laughed—a deep, genuine laugh—made your heart skip. You tried not to smile, but the corners of your lips betrayed you.

For a moment, the air between you two shifted. The teasing banter faded into a comfortable silence, but the unspoken tension lingered, thick and electric. His gaze softened, lingering on you just a second too long, and you felt the world narrow to just the two of you. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

"You're something else, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite name.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the fairytale-like spell that seemed to envelop the two of you. Sam was so close that you could feel his warmth, and staying indifferent to it felt like an almost impossible task.

"So... when is Dean coming back from the hospital?" you whispered, locking your gaze on Sam’s eyes.

"In an hour, I think." His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that echoed in the silence that followed.

You nodded but said nothing more. A heavy silence settled between you, not exactly uncomfortable, but not easy to ignore either. The tension was palpable, as if every breath you took fed a fire that neither of you dared acknowledge.

"You should get back at Dean," you blurted out suddenly, trying to dispel the pressure that seemed to hang in the air. You pretended to be distracted, playing with your nails, but you were fully aware of Sam's every move from the corner of your eye.

"What?" His eyebrow arched, but there was something more behind his reaction, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

"You know... like, uh, Dean catching you doing that. It’d be funny," you murmured, feeling your shoulders tense as the words left your mouth.

"Do you think so?" he asked. His voice was calm, but there was something in it—something that made your heartbeat feel stronger, louder. "I wouldn’t want to involve some random girl in something like that..."

"Oh, right, totally. It could traumatize her," you replied with obvious irony, trying to mask your own discomfort. Your cheeks were burning, but you couldn’t stop yourself. "We could… do it. You and I… you know?"

The pause that followed was so thick that, for a second, you thought you’d said something completely out of line. Sam made a sound, like he had just let all the air leave his lungs at once.

"Us?" His voice sounded incredulous, but there was something deeper in it, something mingling with the surprise.

You coughed lightly, trying not to appear as affected as you felt. "Yeah, sure. We could pretend to do it, just to mess with him," you added quickly, your voice breaking slightly at the end.

"Oh," Sam said, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell what that "oh" meant. Was he surprised? Disappointed? But then he spoke again, and there was something different in his tone, something you hadn’t heard before. "Oh, right, I mean…"

He trailed off, and you glanced up, only to find him looking at you with a mix of uncertainty and something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second—so quick it was almost imperceptible—but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

"Do you want to? Really?" he asked finally, his voice lower, almost a whisper.

"Pretend," you corrected, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "Just to mess with Dean, nothing more."

"Right," he murmured, though there was something in his tone that didn’t quite match the lightness of the situation. A small smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes stayed fixed on yours, studying you like he was searching for something more in your proposal.

The silence returned, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was charged, as if the unsaid words between you filled the space with more intensity than any conversation ever could.

"It could be fun," he said finally, his voice rough, and there was something in his expression that made you wonder if he was really talking about the prank—or about something else entirely.

You laughed, though the sound came out more nervous than you intended. You were trying to hide how tense you were, but the knot in your stomach was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah, sure…” you muttered more to yourself, your voice barely audible. Sam’s gaze lingered on you, scanning your figure from head to toe, and that simple gesture made your legs feel like jelly.

“It has to look realistic,” he said suddenly, his tone slightly firmer, though his eyes held a mix of shyness and something deeper you couldn’t quite name.

“Oh God—right,” you responded almost without thinking, your words rushed as you fought to keep your composure. Your hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, and though your cheeks were burning, you began unbuttoning it slowly. “Uh… like this?”

Sam averted his eyes for a moment, clearing his throat softly, as if that could somehow break the growing tension in the air. But when he looked back at you, his face was as red as yours.

“Uh—yeah, I guess… looks realistic to me,” he said finally, his voice lower, almost as if he were talking to himself. His gaze lingered briefly on your collarbones, dipping for a split second before meeting your eyes again.

Your voice wavered, though you tried to inject it with a touch of false confidence to mask the storm swirling inside you. “It’s not fair that I’m the only one without a shirt,” you said, feigning a casual tone as you rolled your eyes.

For a moment, you thought Sam hadn’t heard you, but then you saw him swallow hard, clearly affected. “Right—you’re right,” he muttered, his voice a little deeper than usual as he reached for the hem of his shirt.

Time seemed to slow as he pulled it off, revealing the tanned skin of his torso. You didn’t want to look, but it was impossible not to. The definition of his shoulders, the movement of his muscles… it all felt like too much to handle.

Damn.

He held the shirt in his hands for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it, before letting it fall to the floor. “Is this more fair?” he asked, with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as though he too was trying to ease the tension between you.

“I guess…” you murmured, though your voice barely came out. Your eyes met his, and the silence that followed was deafening. You could hear the sound of his breathing, slow and heavy, mixing with yours, and the space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second.

“This is weird, isn’t it?” he said finally, his tone attempting to be light, but the nervousness was unmistakable.

“You said it,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to shield yourself from him or from the way he made you feel.

He took a step toward you, not too close, but enough that you could feel his presence even stronger. “We can stop if you want,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

“No,” you said quickly—too quickly. You wanted to take it back, to say something else, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you tried to smile, though it barely counted as one. “I want to keep going.” Your tone sounded far more serious for something that was supposed to be just a joke. Sam seemed to notice, his eyes glinting under the motel’s dim yellow light.

The space between you remained charged, as if both of you were waiting for something neither dared to say out loud.

“God, this feels like the start of a bad porn,” you said abruptly, making Sam laugh.

He nodded, biting his lip as if to hold back a smile. Then, slowly, he stepped closer, moving cautiously, as though afraid you’d bolt at any moment. The way his figure loomed over you was almost intimidating, but in the part of you that wasn’t scared, it made you feel warm.

“Let’s get to the bed, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and syrupy.

“Bed?” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly.

“It has to be realistic.”

Realistic, of course. How could you forget?

“Yeah sure, let's go to bed.”

Sam lifted you with ease, as if you weighed far less than you actually did, yet he dropped you onto the bed with just a bit more force than necessary, making you let out a startled yelp.

“Ouch! That hurt,” you said through laughter, trying to sound offended, though the tone of your voice betrayed you.

Sam leaned over you, his arms on either side of your face, creating a bubble that seemed to isolate you both from the rest of the world.

“Sorry—” he murmured, though there was a smile tugging at his lips that he couldn’t quite hide.

You shook your head quickly, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s not funny! Don’t laugh,” you scolded him, but the sparkle in your eyes and the smile curling your lips completely undermined your words. You could feel the warmth of his arms so close to you, and the air between you seemed heavier, thicker.

Your laughter began to fade, giving way to a silence that wasn’t awkward but felt almost… comforting. You sighed, trying to catch your breath, but that was the moment you realized just how close his face was to yours. So close that you could feel the faint brush of his breath against your skin.

“Sammy…” you murmured, his name escaping your lips almost like a whisper. Your voice sounded breathless, as though the air itself was refusing to fill your lungs.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and full of an intensity that rooted you in place beneath his gaze. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and rough, sending your heartbeat into an uncontrollable rhythm.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t say a word. Instead, your hand moved hesitantly, brushing against the warm skin of his neck before resting at the back, applying just enough pressure to pull him even closer. Your breaths were shallow, your lips slightly parted. With a small nod, you finally whispered:

“It’s okay… I want to kiss you too.”

The words were like a spark igniting a flame, and before you could say anything else, his lips crashed into yours. The kiss wasn’t gentle or hesitant; it was fierce, as though all the tension that had built up between you had finally found its release.

The force of his kiss made your head sink into the pillow, and your hands instinctively moved to grip his shoulders, searching for something solid to hold onto as the intensity of the moment threatened to overwhelm you. You could feel the weight of him, his warmth, and suddenly it was like the entire world had faded away, leaving only Sam, the pounding of your heart, and the sensation of his lips against yours.

The kiss deepened, his hands framing your face as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t keep you close. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and though you couldn’t see your own face, you were certain your cheeks were as red as his.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces still so close that there was barely any space between you. Sam didn’t speak at first, just gazed at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his eyes searching yours as if he needed confirmation that this was real.

You were the first to break the silence, though your voice came out shaky. “That… that was…”

“Incredible,” he finished for you, a small smile playing on his lips—both confident and a little uncertain at the same time. “But, uh… I don’t think Dean’s gonna buy this as just a joke.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, your laughter filling the room as Sam watched you with that soft expression that made your chest tighten all over again.

“Maybe it wasn’t just to mess with Dean,” you murmured, your voice quiet but firm, your eyes never leaving his.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a small smirk forming as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Maybe not,” he replied, his voice low and warm, before leaning in again, this time kissing you with a tenderness that completely unraveled you.

Your body moved before your mind, climbing into Sam's lap like your life depended on it.

He hummed softly, “You're sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes rolled as if the question had been out of place, but your expression broke with a tender smile.

“I am, Sammy, more than anything.”

He nodded softly, pulling you closer to his body and leaving wet kisses on your neck, giving a small bite that made you let out a muffled moan.

Their bodies were so close that there wasn’t even room for oxygen to pass between them. The way Sam moved was rough, deliberate, like a man with a singular goal in mind, his movements precise and calculated.

“Let me help you with this, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with something that sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved toward your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that felt both electrifying and agonizingly slow.

His touch was so careful as he unbuttoned your jeans, like he was handling something sacred. It was a contradiction to the intensity in his gaze—a gaze so sharp it pinned you in place, leaving you no room to breathe, no room to think.

You knew those eyes. They were the same eyes he used when he was tracking a monster, honing in on his prey with unwavering focus. Without realizing it, you had become his target—a prey about to be devoured.

As he slid your jeans down, his movements were slow, deliberate, almost torturous. His lips followed the path his hands carved, planting soft, burning kisses along every inch of newly exposed skin. Each kiss was a promise, a tease, leading down to what felt like the edge of the world.

Your breathing was uneven, shallow, almost panicked, but not from fear—no, this was something else entirely. Your chest rose and fell erratically, anticipation building with every inch his lips traveled.

“I really want to take my time with you,” he said, his words breaking the silence. Each syllable was punctuated by a kiss against your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But—” he kissed you again, his lips lingering. “I don’t know if I can hold back.” Another kiss, softer, yet it somehow left you trembling.

Oh, fuck.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips, betraying just how undone you were. Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you tilted your head back, giving him more access to the curve of your waist, the line of your hip, anywhere he wanted to be.

“It’s fine,” you managed to say, though your voice came out in a shaky whisper. “You can… God, you can do whatever you want to me.”

He froze for a second, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Are you sure?” His voice was quieter now, like he needed to hear you say it, really say it.

You let out an exasperated breath, barely managing to lift your head to glare at him, though the fire in your gaze was softened by the flush on your cheeks. “If you keep asking stupid questions, I swear I’ll punch you. Right in that ridiculously handsome face of yours.”

A laugh bubbled out of him, deep and genuine, the sound vibrating against your skin. His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your stomach. “Got it,” he said simply, his voice tinged with amusement.

And then his lips returned to your skin, softer now but no less deliberate. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers tracing patterns that made your entire body hum. The tension in the room was thick, almost unbearable, as if the air itself had been charged with electricity.

You felt like you were on the edge of a cliff, your heart pounding, your breaths coming in short gasps, but the way Sam looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered, like he couldn’t believe you were real—made you feel safe, even as you were unraveling beneath him.

The space between you seemed to shrink even further, his weight pressing into you just enough to ground you in the moment. And though the anticipation was overwhelming, there was a strange calm in knowing that whatever came next, it would be with him.

His long fingers moved the fabric of your panties to the side;

“Look at her…” he murmured, totally infatuated with the way your wet and gaping pussy called for him.

“Did you just—?” you started protesting. But you were quickly silenced when Sam inserted a finger inside you.

“God, she's sucking me so good” you whined. “She's a really good girl, just like you. Think I can put one more?” he asked you, without breaking eye contact.

“I dunno– yes?”

“Mhm.” he mumbled, “That's not an answer you know?” His voice was laced with a playful tone that made you a little angry, how was it possible that you were with your legs open and so needy and he was taking all the time in the world, it drove you crazy in the best way possible.

“Come on, Sammy.” you whined softly, starting to get desperate.

“I need to get you nice and wet baby, I'm sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

“No, I'm not.” he nodded, agreeing with you. The way he's spreading your wet pussy with his fingers, moving them back and forth, opening you up for him, is making you go crazy. If this was the foreplay, you couldn't even imagine the real play.

The weight on your chest never went away, and it only deepened when you felt Sam's hot tongue licking a line up and down your core.

“Oh– fuckin’” you moaned, covering your mouth with your knuckles, biting down on them.

Sam hummed, pleased with your reactions. His tongue went deeper, exploring your soft walls, your taste was making him see stars. He could live his whole life with his tongue deep inside you and die happily ever after. You were so sweet, fuck demon blood and fuck alcohol. Your fluids were his new drug.

You pushed your hips deeper into his mouth, moaning like you were on heat.

“Fuck, just like that Sammy– There! Fucking there!” His other hand gripped your hips and held you taut to his face as he ate you brutally, his lips working like a man who has been starving for months and finally tasted something worth dying for. As he extended his mouth wide to trace his tongue from your hole up to the soft bundle of pleasure, he dragged your clit into his mouth, scraped it with his teeth, and then released it with a light slapping sound.

“God, Sammy, please. I'm so close.” You left out a cry, arching your back into the pleasure as he continued his current rhythm, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from your hot, flushed body. Your hands moved to his hair, fisting it and raising his body until you were face to face.

Your fingers traveled to his pants, where you began to lower his zipper and slowly his underwear.

“I wanna ride you, can I?” you asked, sincerely. Waiting for an honest response as if you had asked something totally normal and not the most perverted words Sam ever heard you utter.

He groaned, as an answer.

“Of course you can, God.”

With a shaky hand, you line him at your entrance and reach down to gently grab him. He puts his hand on the small of your back and rubs calming circles there to reassure you.

“You got this. Slow.” You nodded, following his instructions, sinking an inch or two onto him while your brow furrows in concentration.

As you take more of Sam, his breathing turns ragged, hitching in his throat like he’s barely holding himself together. You push yourself further, testing your limits, and in one reckless move, you take the rest of him all at once. His reaction is immediate—a sharp, breathy squeak escapes his lips, completely unbidden. His fingers dig into your hips, grounding himself, his nails almost biting into your skin as if trying to steady the rush of sensation overtaking him.

“I said slow…” His voice is strained, low, barely a whisper, but the way he looks at you with that indignant, wide-eyed expression—one you know all too well—only makes you want to push him further, to see just how much more he can take.

“‘ed help,” you whimper in a low, broken voice, the sound more desperate than you intended.

His brows furrow as he stares at you, his lips parting slightly. “What?” he breathes, his voice teetering on the edge of control.

“I need help, Sammy.”

Those words seem to shatter something in him. The way he looks at you, it’s almost reverent, like you’re something divine in his lap. His hands tighten on your thighs, his grip so firm you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow—not that you mind. It feels like a mark, a claim, like he’s trying to ground himself in the reality of you.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and starts moving you. At first, his motions are precise, almost mechanical, lifting you up and down in a steady rhythm. But the control doesn’t last long. Within moments, his restraint begins to crack, his hands gripping harder, his breaths coming faster. His movements become rougher, more desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach.

Before you can even process what’s happening, his arms wrap around your back in one swift, possessive motion, and you find yourself beneath him. His weight presses into you, the warmth of his body enveloping yours. His hips move without rhythm now, erratic, frantic, driven entirely by need. Every thrust feels like it’s meant to claim, to mark, to leave no part of you untouched.

The sounds spilling from him are pure desperation—low, guttural moans mixed with soft curses under his breath. You can feel how much he’s holding back, how he’s trying so hard not to lose himself entirely, but his resolve is slipping with every passing second, mentalizing all the laws of the penal code that he remembered to get a grip of himself.

“Sammy—” your voice trembles, breaking as the tension in your body coils tighter.

“I’m about to—”

He nods quickly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “Me too,” he manages to say between ragged gasps, his words broken, his voice a strained whisper. “Where do you…?”

Each syllable is punctuated by a thrust, his control unraveling with every word.

“Inside,” you moan, your voice barely audible over the sound of skin meeting skin. “I want it inside.”

The words hit him like a freight train. His movements falter for a fraction of a second, his entire body tensing as if the weight of your request has shattered the last bit of restraint he was clinging to.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, his voice a low growl, his control slipping completely.

His hips snap forward one last time, and he’s gone. He buries himself as deeply as he can, his entire body trembling as he lets go, his moans mixing with yours.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the air between you thick with the remnants of everything that just happened. Sam’s forehead stays pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling slightly as he holds you close, as if letting go would mean losing the connection you just shared. He doesn’t say anything right away—neither of you do. There’s no need for words in this moment, no need to break the fragile, intimate silence that has settled over you both.

But when he finally speaks, his voice is soft, almost hesitant. “Are you okay?”

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his back. “Yeah,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Sam exhales, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief, and leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips.

The sweet moment is abruptly shattered by the unmistakable jingle of keys at the door. Your eyes widen in panic, and your hand instinctively flies up to cover your mouth, muffling a surprised gasp.

“Sammy—” you squeaked, your voice trembling with worry as the reality of the situation crashed down on you.

Sam’s response was to nod—calmly, almost too calmly. His body froze like a statue, as if you both were suddenly prey caught in the crosshairs of a wild, feral T-Rex. His eyes darted to the door, his lips pressed into a tight line, and you swore he even stopped breathing.

The doorknob turned with a slow, deliberate click, and the sound felt louder than it had any right to be in the otherwise silent room.

The door swung open.

“Hey, guess what? Your theory was actually—”

Dean stopped mid-sentence, his words halting like the Impala's doors slamming shut. He stood there in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him like his brain was buffering the information. His eyes flicked from Sam to you and then back again, taking in your flushed faces, disheveled hair, and the unmistakable tension lingering in the air.

“Oh, god dammit,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. Then, louder: “Fucking finally.”

You froze, your face heating to what had to be an inhuman degree, while Sam just groaned loudly, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Dean,” Sam started, his voice strained and muffled against your skin, “this… isn’t—”

Dean raised a hand to cut him off, a mix of exasperation and amusement written all over his face. “Don’t. Don’t even try, Sammy. I don’t need the details. I don’t want the details. Hell, I’m already regretting walking in here.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything to salvage whatever scraps of dignity you had left, but all that came out was a small, embarrassed squeak.

Dean pointed at both of you, squinting like he was trying to physically burn the image of you two into his memory out of sheer spite. “You know what? I should’ve known. I’ve been calling this for years. YEARS, Sam.”

Sam finally lifted his head, glaring at his brother. “You haven’t been calling anything.”

Dean smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Oh, really? So me betting Jo twenty bucks that you two would eventually ‘work out all that unresolved tension’ doesn’t count?”

“Dean!” Sam barked, his ears turning bright red as he scrambled to sit up straighter.

“Twenty bucks,” Dean repeated with a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. “And let me tell you, that girl is gonna be real smug about being right.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. “Oh my God, just kill me now.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Nah, don’t worry. You two lovebirds keep doing… whatever this is. I’ll just… go burn my eyes out now.” He turned to leave but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Oh, and Sam?”

“What?” Sam snapped, clearly at the end of his patience.

Dean winked. “You owe me clean sheets.”

The door closed behind him, and you stared at it in silence, your brain desperately trying to reboot. After a moment, you turned to Sam, your voice flat. “Clean sheets?”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even through your embarrassment. “Nope. Welcome to the rest of your life, Sammy.”

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ctrlhope · 1 month ago

Note

Lily pleaseeee share your favorite ot7 hybrid fics, i can’t find any 😭😭😭😭

OMGGGG BB YOUVE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE OKIEEE I LOVE OT7 FICS REAL BAD

I’ve been reading hybrid fics p much since I started reading bts fanfics so… I can hook u up dastardly style 🤩 links under the cut <33

so before I start listing ima be so fr and say I like most of my hybrid fics verryy formulaic. i p much only ready hybrid bts x human reader and I really enjoy the whole plot of ‘y/n inherits bts and doesn’t know what to do!’ Or ‘y/n sees 7 hybrids at the shelter who need help and doesn’t know what to do!’. It feels sooo chicken noodle soup to me and it feels good for my soul <33 so I hope these fics feel like chicken noodle soup for u too and that you love them as much as I do <33

Series

Abundance ✰ @angelicyoongie

HYBRID CLASSIC FICCCC actually one of the first hybrid fics I think I ever read?? Def the first hybrid ot7 which is kinda crazy 😭 perfect chicken soup for the soul <33 probably the basis for the way I like hybrid fics I read formatted now!! you can really see how the authors writing grew with this fic. Was the fic that made me fall in love with hybrids, actually. I love all of her work so bad man [last updated: 10/4/24]

Trouvaille ✰ @spookyserenades

on my main recs list for a REASON!!! MODERN OT7 CLASSIC FIC!!! if you like the slowest of burns… you’ll enjoy this fic heavily. once again my favourite chicken-soup style so I can’t help but recommend it <33 I have… so many words id like to say about coyote jimin and hoseok… but I will remain silent for my own dignity 😔love all of her work terribly <33 [last updated: 8/17/24]

SeVen Uncaged ✰ @/missing_min_meowmeow (ao3) and @/polaritae (ao3)

two part series (first half completed, second half not) detailing the difficulties of adopting 7 hybrids reader was completely unprepared for 🙂‍↕️ YESSS MA’AM!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!! I love how this fic goes into the details of how difficult mentally and physically this kind of change would be for the hybrids. I love the characterisation of each of the boys. I LOVE IT!!!! pls give this series a chance it is so definitely worth it even though it’s unfinished. A love it terribly, in its entirety. I LOVE FLAWED CHARACTERS!!! [last updated: 9/11/23]

Restitution ✰ @/cloudtea (ao3) @cloudteawrites (tumblr)

like I said I REALLY like fanfics where reader comes into a bunch of hybrids and has to deal with the consequences 😭 that being said, this has exactly everything I love in a hybrid fic, I absolutely love the concept, and the stories of where each of the guys came from before. THIS is exactly what I mean when I say a chicken soup fic— warm and comforting. Hopefully the author will come back to it someday <33 it’s so good even though it’s just the beginning [last updated: 4/19/21 — permanent hiatus]

Loving You Isn’t Hard to Learn ✰ @/arduouslove (ao3) @arduouslove (tumblr)

MANNN ITS SO WARM AND COMFORTING!!! like,, i know i keep saying chicken soup and IM SORRY BUT THATS WHAT THESE ARE FOR ME!!! I absolutely adore the concept of a motel for hybrids to go when they need help. And I really love the development we’ve seen so far between Hoseok and jimin. Another fic that was left at the beginning, but truly lovely. Another one I hope the author updates again someday <33 [last updated: 03/07/23]

Still Life ✰ @/king_myg (ao3)

OKAY NO YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THIS IS ACTUALLY LIKE,,, ONE OF MY FAVOURITE HYBRID FICS IVE READ!! The concept behind it is just so,, intriguing. It’s a yandere fic, so it has that edge to it but the way jungkook just *is* is so…. No you actually just have to read it to understand. I love this fic sooo bad actually. And Yoongi who pretends not to be a hybrid… and!! I really can’t express in words how exciting this was for me to read. I can’t wait to see how the rest of the guys relationships develop with the reader. [last updated: 5/22/24]

Home Calls the Heart ✰ @anonnie-in-wonderland

verryyy cute ot7 fic <33 the first chapter just feels very warm and soft. its adorable how tae wants to 'adopt' a human for his family even though he doesn't quite understand the repercussions of it [last updated: 12/17/22]

About love ✰ @mochiimac

One of my favourite tropes of reader coming into hybrids and them all hating each other right off the bat!! The writing style feels so safe too <33 [last updated: 04/24/3]

A Hundred Percent Human ✰ @/wrienne (ao3) @wrienne (tumblr)

Another CLASSIC ot7 hybrid fic!! I remember reading the first few chapters before I took a break from fanfics back in the day. Each of the characters (bts memebers) are so interesting and I love the personalities the author made around them as well as all the world building they did within the fic. The class system was so interesting to me and TAEHYUNG??? God, such a fun and dynamic story!! Highly recommend you check it out [last updated: 7/24/23]

Daddy’s Money Makes the World Go Round ✰ @/That_Author (ao3)

SOOO warm and comfortable. Guarddog Namjoon rlly just wants to keep the reader safe even though her parents are mean. Their relationship (as well as the rest of the guys that come into the home) is just SO sweet n gentle <3 [last updated: 10/28/22]

Oneshots

Secret Story of the Swan ✰ @purpleyoonn

one of the few yandere fics on the list and oh so sweet <33 the way they gently lure reader is so 🥺 and she gives in easily to their charms 🥺 v cute little oneshot <33 love her a lot

Beastly Gods ✰ @lemonjoonah

A CLASSICCCCCC one of the only (other) yandere fics on this list. mostly taehyung x reader w/ implied ot7 x reader ++ drabbles featuring ot7 x reader. I love this fic so much actually you don’t understand. It holds such a special place in my heart PLS READ IT!!

Tangled Hearts ✰ @writersrealmbts

Adorable look into readers life with 7 hybrids <33 truly love how this fic played out and the interactions the members had with eachother and the reader. ITS JUST REAL CUTE OKAY!!!! Makes me all soft nd gushy!! Very cute <33 i love it.

To Be Read / Currently Reading

Kindness ✰ @/angelaronin (ao3)

Stray Cat Strut ✰ @/typhloticharuspex (ao3)

Meritocracy ✰ @/saylilirose (ao3)

The Dog Days are Over ✰ @/mintedmango (ao3)

Redamancy ✰ @/dalgi_jungoo (ao3)

A Sweet Change ✰ @/kagsii (ao3)

Peculiar Pack ✰ @/dollremi (ao3)

If anyone has any reads I didn’t mention comment them or message me them!!

** I’ll update this as I read more / find more fics I’ve read in the past that I enjoyed!! By no means is it complete, these are just the fics I’ve read/reread recently nd enjoyed <33 Currently going through my tumblr likes to see if I’ve missed any <33 ✰ last updated: 01/19/25

Main Rec List | individual/poly hybrid rec list (coming soon)

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thanosscross · 1 month ago

Text

My Pain in the ass - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 2

Summary: After getting sick, Seung Hyun was quick to make sure his favorite girl was taken care of, not realizing he was showing not only you but his bandmates also, how much he truly cared about and loved you

Warnings: None <33

The next day you had the morning off, thankfully, being able to spend it with the boys after what felt like forever of nonstop working. Tiredly sitting up in your bed, you looked around for any of the boys, only seeing empty beds instead.

You made your way out of the room, your blanket being tightly wrapped around you as you entered the living room, looking at the four boys pouting "Why didn't anybody wake me up for breakfast?" You mumbled, watching as they all sat around, left overs from their breakfast sitting on the table, you slowly made your way to Seung Hyun silently, telling you were still exhausted, he just raised his arm, knowing better than to mess with you while you're still waking up. Moving to lay down against his side you sighed "You were still sleeping, we figured put yours in the warmer until you were up" Seung Hyun assured, going back to focus on his book, you just curled up against him, closing your eyes again.

"Y/n/n" You heard a deep voice pulling you back out of your sleep, feeling two lips press against your forehead before being shaken lightly "Sweetheart, wake up, we have to get going" Seung Hyun huffed, glancing at the clock and then the boys "I told you! Like a cat!" He huffed crossing his arms, trying to stay annoyed but as you shifted, taking his hand in yours, even in your sleep, it melted his heart. "Well she's got to get up" Ji-Yong frowned walking over "Why has she been sleeping so much?" He asked as he went to pat your cheek, as his hand made contact with your cheek, he felt how warm you were "Nooo! Shit!" he cursed, you all had a show tonight and rehearsals in an hour, and you were still asleep feeling like you just came out of an oven or heater. Looking in their friend's direction, they slowly walked over, watching Ji-Yong run a hand through his hair "She's sick. Think about it, whenever she got sick last time? She basically slept for three days straight" He huffed, crossing his arms "We're going to have to call YG, they're going to be pissed it's so last minute" He rambled, it wasn't that he was upset with you, just stressed as hell, he knew this would upset a lot of fans, especially the ones specifically coming to see you.

You were left at home, Seung Hyun making sure you had everything you needed before they left for rehearsals and their show. Their show went good, YG staff only being slightly frustrated with your absence, but Seung Hyun couldn't help but feel guilty as he performed. Ever since you joined BigBang, you and Seung Hyun had based your chorography off of each others, so with you not being there, he felt like he was leaving you out and like he was alone. The feeling didn't leave his chest until they all arrived back home around 3 in the morning, as he kicked his shoes off at the door, he made his way towards the bundle of blankets on the couch, noticing your water and dinner still untouched he sighed. As the living room light came on, you groaned loudly, trying to pull the blanket tighter over your head "No, come on" Seung Hyun demanded sternly, for the first time since you met Seung Hyun he grabbed your hand, pulling you off of the couch and on your feet "You're taking a warm bath, and eating, then two cups of water, and you're going to bed" He explained, tiredly walking to the bathroom, leaving you standing in the doorway as he disappeared into the bedroom, whenever he came back in, he held your swim suit and some night clothes. "Change into these, and call for me" He said as he handed you the swimsuit before stepping out of the bathroom, he hated seeing you sick, you always looked so sad and miserable compared to your usual giddy self, not to mention you would stop taking care of yourself entirely due to lack of energy.

Whenever Seung Hyun helped you out of the bath, you tiredly leaned against him, grunting softly as he wrapped an arm around your waist helping you move to the bedroom, holding the towel around you as tight as he could along with his robe he had grabbed for you. That was the others' sign that Seung Hyun had finally fallen for you, that man hated being sick, and germs, whenever one of the boys were sick, he had made a point to get a hotel room, just so he wouldn't get sick. Here he was though, helping you move around, helping you wash your hair, without a single complaint. Seung Hyun wouldn't dare complain, he knew you needed him, you had told him multiple times you felt safe around him, even admitting he was one of the only guys you trusted with your life and safety, knowing he wouldn't dare risk either of them. As you tried to crawl onto the bed, Seung Hyun stopped you "Aein, You can't sleep in a soaking swim suit" He chuckled as he grabbed your clean nightclothes, closing his eyes before he started taking off your swimsuit and changing it out for a pair of sweatpants and one of his hoodies. Once the hoodie was pulled down over your chest, Seung Hyun opened his eyes again, leaning forward quickly to let his shoulder catch your head that slowly fell forward.

"Oh, Aein" He whispered sadly, helping you back onto the bed, keeping his hands on your shoulders as you slowly leaned back until your head hit the pillows "Sweetheart, You need to keep yourself hydrated" He whispered, shaking his head as you just pulled the covers over your face tiredly. Knowing you wouldn't budge, Seung Hyun just climbed into your bed next to you, sighing as he placed his arm over your waist.

It took three days for you to be back to your usual self, Seung Hyun quick to return to his usual self as soon as he noticed you were okay. As you approached the rehearsal studio you made eye contact with the boys, all four of them smiling excited to see you back up and moving. As you entered the room, you immediately rushed to Seung Hyun, hugging him tightly "Noo! Go away! Germs! Get away!" He shouted raising his arms in the air, you just squeezed him tighter "Thank you for taking care of me" You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his hands, respecting his wishes of not wanting to get sick. Seung Hyun rolled his eyes playfully "I just didn't want to continue doing your parts for shows, your dancing is way too feminine for me" He joked, you just giggled, knowing damn well one of his favorite things to do was to mimic your chorography, especially whenever he was drunk. "Thank you.." You repeated, hugging him one last time before turning around to thank the others for helping you with you not going to the show. As you went through rehearsals, you couldn't help but notice Seung Hyun's eyes on you as you followed the moves you had learned a few weeks prior. As you spun your hands in front of you slowly, you rolled your body forwards with each step you took before spinning around, swinging your arm above your head as you swiveled your hips around. Looking over your shoulder behind you at the mirror, where the crowd would be if you were performing, as the bass of the song started to fade, you slowly kneeled down before holding your pose as the music ended.

Whenever you turned around, Seung Hyun had his hand over his mouth, gripping his own jaw as he dragged his hand down his face watching you closely. "Stop staring like that!" You gasped blushing brightly as you caught him, He just blushed as he looked away from you "I can't help it! It's so..different!" He protested as you marched over, poking his chest playfully "You're different" You joked, taking his hand in yours, much to his protest "And you're weird" He shot back, laughing as you gasped in shock "How rude of you!" You laughed, blushing brightly whenever you felt his hands on your waist, swaying you softly as you both spoke to each other.

Whenever you arrived home, it was like usual, you had gone straight to the couch, flopping onto Seung Hyun's much to his disliking. "Why are you so obsessed with touching mee!?" He shouted as he whined, trying to move himself out from under you without causing you to fall. "Because You're hot and nice" You huffed, hugging him tightly "Why won't you accept my love?!" It was your turn to shout and whine, growing frustrated with him, he had been acting weird with you all day, and it was starting to upset you now. "Because I love you in a different way!" He huffed before realizing what he had said, you looked at him in shock, letting his words process in your mind before you took a deep breath "Like how?" You asked, messing with the threads of his sweater nervously "Like..I want to kiss you like the other day but all of the time" Seung Hyun admitted shyly, you hid your blush behind your hands before looking at him "Why don't you?..You don't have to ask me...not you" You whispered, biting your bottom lip as you watched his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, taking a moment before pressing his lips against yours firmly. As your lips moved together, Seung Hyun held onto you tightly as you laid on top of him, your lips feeling like pure clouds against his. Slowly pulling away, you bit your bottom lip giggling "I love you too" You whispered shyly, noticing his bright smile that you swore was contagious.

Lovelies? You like? <33 I'm heading to bed though lovelies as it's currently 3AM my time, but I hope you enjoy this story, and make sure to keep your eyes out for some smutty requests I'll be posting later today along with more parts to both T.O.P and Ji-Yong stories <3 ;) goodnight! <3 I shall talk to you lovelies in a bit! <3

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@lilou-0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

@sturnioloslut-b

@isssaaaa2111

#squid game #thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #top x reader #squidgame #thanos squid game #t.o.p x reader #choi seunghyun #squid game thanos #t.o.p #t.o.p bigbang #t.o.p icons #top #bigbang x reader #bigbang #choi seung hyun x reader

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kitten4sannie · 4 months ago

Text

blood pact

pairing: vampire! wooyoung x human! reader (fem)

genre: vampire society au, a lil bit of angst, smut

summary: living in a city overrun by bloodsuckers is already hard enough on its own, but you’re really put to the test when one of them ends up being your only hope in the face of danger.

w.c: 4.3k

warnings: blood/injury, depictions of violence, death(s)? of a few vampires, hard-ish dom (slight tamer)! wooyoung, subby (tiny bit bratty)! reader, these mfs are nasty alr, some light brat taming, one or two little slaps, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, blood kink obv <3 (includes blood drinking/sharing), kissing, oral (giving), throat fucking, brief breath play, pain kink, mutual masturbation, lotus position but it’s rough !!, creampie

a/n: oh mannn i’m a bit late again 😣 but im excited to share this one with you all !! i wanted to thank my dear lily for beta reading this one for me and giving me lovely feedback that helps me grow as a writer, it truly means the world to me my dear 🩷 once again i do apologize if this fic seems disjointed in any way ,, things have been a bit weird but i won’t let life stop me from sharing nasty smut >:((( lol i hope you enjoy and please lemme know what you thought <33

song rec: dirt - depeche mode (we’re taking it wayyy back with this one <3)

fictober 2024

You were never able to pinpoint exactly when humanity went to shit, as it had always been in a state of constant conflict and disarray, but somewhere along the way, it turned into a raging dumpster fire — one that was close to impossible to put out once it was lit. Unbeknownst to humans, there was a society of vampires that lived in the shadows for centuries, waiting patiently until it was the perfect time to make their existence known and feared. What better time to take over the world than when the humans were too busy being at each other’s throats to even realize they had a common enemy, one that would drain them of their life source within a blink of an eye?

Anyone with a pulse had no choice but to fall in line and succumb to their undead overlords, having to make up their mind about whether they would like to join forces with the enemy by desecrating their DNA and joining those that single-handedly brought upon humanity’s destruction, or grovel at their feet and become a slave, a house pet of sorts whose soul purpose was to feed and entertain their blood-sucking masters.

It was not an easy choice for most, and especially for you, so you simply found another solution — blend in. If you embodied everything a vampire was, even down to their immeasurable sense of pride and entitlement, how could they tell you apart from the others? And when they saw through your ruse, you would drive a stake through their still heart. You would never join their empire, let alone be one of their toys, especially not for some pompous undead prick that would treat you like a glorified juice box.

Yet, here you were, drunk off your ass at a gothic nightclub that welcomed vampiric guests and shunned anyone with a beating heart, unless they were owned and branded.

“Gimme another whiskey, neat,” you slurred, holding your empty shot glass to the poor excuse of a human bartender standing on the other side of the bar. You scoffed at the jeweled collar he wore around his neck, knowing he was owned by whatever undead asshole that ran the nightclub. You had your own collar, of course, but you had taken it from someone that was…no longer in need of it. You did what you had to, to make it through another night in the corrupted world you regretfully called your home.

“I should cut you off, y’know, especially after being such a dick to me all night,” the man mumbled, despite reaching underneath the bar to grab an almost empty bottle of whiskey and filling your glass back up, not wanting to risk angering his superiors.

“But, you won’t. Your vampiric asshole of a boss wouldn’t like that you’re denying a paying customer.” You stuck your tongue out at the man, much to his dismay. You sipped on the whiskey, liking the way it burned as it went down your throat, grateful that you could still feel something, even if it was a drunkenness that would most likely do irreversible damage to your liver. It’s not like your life really mattered, not in this timeline, at least.

You lazily held your glass up in his direction, blowing a few strands of loose hair out of your eyes. The man simply held up the empty bottle and gave you a tight smile. “All out. Now, would you pay your tab?”

“Fineeee, oh my god,” you groaned dramatically, standing up from the barstool and wobbling a bit, fishing for your wallet somewhere inside your worn trench coat. When you opened it up, you came upon the discovery that it was completely empty, looking up to find fear inside the bartender’s eyes. “L-listen, I can replace that bottle, okay? I-I’ll…just need to stop by the local temp agency first.”

“I think you should leave, before they catch wind of this…” the bartender warned you under his breath, unconsciously tugging at his collar.

Swallowing harshly, you glanced around the crowded, dingy club past the collar of your coat, before stumbling your way past many vampire patrons that were drunk off the blood of their human pets who stayed close to them, wishing your blurry surroundings weren’t moving in slow motion. Paranoid that somebody was following you, you looked past your shoulder, only seeing the same crowd of drunken patrons. Temporarily relieved, you swiftly faced forward again, only to accidentally bump into someone face-first, your teeth clinking into the metal of their lip ring, your hands almost getting caught in the many necklaces they were wearing. “I’m so sorry, oh my god, please don’t kill me,” you automatically apologized, already knowing they weren’t human based on the lack of a collar and color in their cheeks.

“If I wanted to, I would,” Wooyoung teased in his own special way, quite aware of the way your heart rate spiked as soon as his light, airy words reached your ears. He enjoyed playing around with his food as much as the next vampire, but lately, it’s grown quite dull, like everything else in his never-ending life.

“O-oh!” you squeaked, letting out a nervous laugh, sticking one hand into your coat pocket to wrap your fingers around the sharp stake you carried with you everywhere.

He brought one manicured finger up to tap against the jewel sitting snugly against your collared neck, leaning in to press his lips against the slope of your ear. “I’d take you right here in front of everyone, drink you dry. Let them all enjoy the pretty sounds you’d make. Does that sound fun?”

“Oh, you can try it, if you want,” you goaded him, looking up at him with your big doe eyes once he pulled back, wondering if he knew just how unhinged you were, just how on the edge you really were. “But, what happens if I’m poisonous? I might not be worth the stomachache.”

Wooyoung chuckled to himself, not used to any human acting so boldly towards him. “Fair point, human.”

“Y/N,” you corrected him, letting go of you weapon in favor of wrapping your finger around one of his silver necklaces, teasing him back in your own way. “You should at least know my name if you’re going to drink from me.”

Wooyoung mused at your actions, studying you with his sly fox eyes, licking at the mole on his lip. He would’ve pursed you if you hadn’t suddenly gotten spooked by something, turning his head to watch you continue making your way out of the club, noticing that the owner quickly followed after you. Things were certainly getting interesting.

By the time you inhaled the cold night air into your lungs, you had already broke out into a sweat. You let your heavy coat hang off past your shoulders and leaned back against a nearby wall, regretting all the alcohol you had subjected your poor body into taking. “Fuck me…” you groaned, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back into the cool concrete behind you, hoping that would make the world stop spinning.

“Is that an invitation…?” asked the very vampire you had been talking shit about to the bartender just a few minutes earlier. “It’s the least you could offer me in exchange for all the whiskey you drank in my club, filthy human.”

Your blood ran cold. “D-don’t you even think about touching me…You aren’t my owner.”

“Oh, because of this little collar you have on? You really don’t have a clue about our kind, do you? There’s no pheromones on you, just your own filthy human scent,” the vampire chided, running his finger along the worn band of your lace collar. It made your skin crawl. You struggled to keep down all the alcohol you had drowned yourself in. Just then, he ripped it from your neck and replaced it with his slender fingers, squeezing around it until your vision grew just that more blurry. “But, don’t worry, I’ll make up for all the lost time that you haven’t been used like a proper toy.”

Blinding rage joined the revulsion you felt for the individual that continued to toy with you as though you were a defenseless child, the culmination of it churning around inside your body like molten hot lava ready to pour out of you. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” you barked, shoving your hands into his shoulders as hard as you could, your feverish anger growing that much more when he hardly moved.

In response, the vampire tugged your coat down and ripped open your top, causing the buttons to fly off. His abhorrent words became nothing more than radio static inside your ringing ears, once you saw red, clutching the wooden stake inside your pocket so tightly that it pierced your fragile skin. You reeled your arm back and drove it straight into the owner’s side, so violently that the wood split into shards, not letting go of it until you knew that it was lodged deeply inside him, wishing, hoping he felt even a fragment of the pain his kind had caused you. “Die,” you muttered, searching his eyes for some sign of shock, regret, grief, anything.

Confusion overtook your flushed features when the man simply laughed directly in your face, as though he were savoring a joke that you weren’t in on, suddenly feeling a white hot burning pain inside your abdomen. Something was wrong, deeply wrong. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t, not while you were gurgling on your own blood. You looked down to see the hilt of a dagger sticking out of your stomach, reality hitting you like a ton of bricks, rendering it impossible to draw in air.

“It never ceases to amuse me when a blood bag thinks they can stop someone like me with something as silly as a wooden stake,” he began, letting out a small hum, as he drove his ritual dagger in as far as it could go. He leaned in close to you, twisting the knife around inside you just to hear the delightful sounds of agony that escaped your red tinted lips. “I’ve been alive longer than your entire bloodline, pathetic human, and I’ll be outliving you tonight.” And with that, the club owner ripped the dagger back out and strolled back into the building, licking the crimson that still ran down the sides of his blade.

You should’ve known this would happen eventually in a world like this. You had no power from the very start. Why had you been blind to the truth until this very moment, when all you could see was your precious blood leaving your body? Regardless, it was far too late to ruminate over trivial things. Death’s gentle whispers were lulling you to sleep, its sweet promises of rest numbing out most of the visceral emotions that coursed through your veins. Slumping against the wall, you held your middle with trembling hands, gazing up at the full moon that loomed over you, wanting to enjoy her beauty one last time — at least, until someone blocked your view.

“For fuck’s sake, can’t you see I’m dying here? Let me look at the moon in peace…” you murmured, weakly glaring up at the stranger you had met inside that godforsaken club only a couple minutes ago.

“You still got some fire in you, doncha, sweetheart?” Wooyoung mused, crouching down so you were at eye level, reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. “But, you’ll die of blood loss soon…pity.”

“You’re very observant,” you replied snarkily, leaning your head back into the wall, your vision growing darker by the second. You let out a long, defeated sigh, choking a bit on the blood left inside your raw throat. “Are you just here to watch me die? If that’s the case, can you do me a favor and make it quick?”

“You didn’t seem like the type to give up so easily.” He leaned in close to you, his crimson eyes shining that much brighter when he asked, “Don’t you want revenge?”

His question echoed inside your mind, once as a whisper, and eventually as a desperate plea. “And what if I do…? It’s not like I can do much now…”

“Let me turn you.” He bared his fangs. “You’ll live, and you’ll be so much stronger than ever before.” He watched as your eyes widened, then returned to normal, figuring you were weighing your options, though they were vastly limited. “You’ll be free to take his life away, do with it as you please, just like he was going to do to you. Doesn’t that sound delicious?”

A few drops of blood dribbled down the side of your mouth. The sand in your hourglass was about to run out. “What do you get in return?”

Wooyoung’s lips curled up into a sadistic smile, his eyes resembling glowing crescent moons. “I’ll be your Master, of course. It’s only fair, being your savior, and all.”

Though that was the very last thing you wanted, you were far too stubborn to die out in such a pathetic fashion. Not only that, but you were being offered the deal of a lifetime, at the end of your lifetime, to be exact, and in exchange for your mortal soul, you could enact sweet, sweet revenge and have a new tale to tell, one that no man or monster could ever take from you.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” Wooyoung joked slyly, tapping the invisible watch on his wrist.

“Alright, deal, but make it quick–” you were barely able to enunciate, before Wooyoung was all over you, one hand holding the side of your head, while the other felt where your artery was, immediately sinking his fangs deep into your neck to start the transformation process.

When you came to, you looked up at your savior, your eyes as red as the blood he had sucked out of you, all of the immense pain that plagued your body gone as quickly as it came, instead replaced by an indescribable thirst.

“How do you feel, pet?” Wooyoung asked, licking remnants of your life source from his manicured fingers.

You bared your new, needle sharp fangs to your Master. “Hungry.”

He smiled at you like a proud father would. “I think I know how we can fix that.”

The last thing the vampiric club owner expected to see when he was sitting inside the comfort of his secluded office was the human woman he had just murdered out of cold blood stomping up to his desk and tossing it out of the way like it wasn’t made of marble.

“H-hey, we can talk about this, right?” he asked nervously, holding his hands up, along with the stacks of cash that were in between his grubby fingers. “You want money? You can have it!”

You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him towards you so violently, he just about broke his neck. “I don’t want money. I want your life.”

When Wooyoung casually strolled into the cush office and pressed his back against the opaque door, the other vampire pleaded at him with his wide eyes. “Wooyoung, baby, this is your favorite club, isn’t it? Haven’t I treated you good here?”

“Y/N will treat you good too, don’t worry,” he reassures sweetly, dragging his tongue across his pointed teeth. He brought his finger up to his chin like he just remembered something, nodding to himself. “Ahh, she does bite, though.”

Just as Wooyoung’s cackles rang out inside the vast room, the club owner shifted his frightened gaze to you just in time to see your jaw open wide, gulping at the sheer size of your fangs. And just like that, you bit down onto the vampire’s neck, getting a good grip on his skin, before swiftly turning your head and causing a fountain of blood to rain over you.

Once you were done feeding, there was hardly anything left of the club owner. Most of him was inside you, and the rest was left splattered across the pedestrian paintings he had up on the walls. Still sitting on the floor near scattered, bloodied hundred dollar bills, you licked up the rest of him from your fingers, your entire body vibrating with pleasure now that your killer was no longer with you, and for other reasons you couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it had something to do with your new body and your newfound love for excess.

Wooyoung clapped his hands together with giddy delight, giving the top of your head a few pats as a reward. “What a good girl. Do you feel full?”

Shaking your head, you reached up to Wooyoung’s waistband, undoing the belt buckle and easing his pants down, licking at your red stained lips all the while. The burning, mind-melting desire to consume didn’t leave you, it only multiplied. It clouded your mind, made you feel like you might lose your mind if you didn’t make it stop. “Not enough…my throat…need it filled…”

“Ahh, I see,” Wooyoung sighed knowingly. This always happened with the humans he turned; they turned into insatiable monsters, always driven by their need for more. He could never get tired of it. Leaning his back against the dripping wall, he reached down to slide his fingers into your soft hair, angling your head upwards, cooing softly at you as he pushed his way into your mouth. “Be careful with your fangs, sweetheart.”

Relaxing your throat upon the sudden intrusion, you opened your mouth wider, as to not pierce Wooyoung’s cock with your new fangs, feeling content once the entirety of his twitching length fit snugly inside. It was when the vampire thrusted further into your throat that you made a wet gagging sound, tears forming inside your crimson eyes, closing them.

“Ah, ah,” Wooyoung tutted, giving your cheek a light smack, smiling sweetly down at you when your eyes opened back up. “That’s right, you better look at me with those pretty eyes of yours if you’re going to take me down your throat like this. That’s what a good pet does.”

Once Wooyoung started to fuck your throat, eager to fill it with his cum, his pale fingers pulling tightly at your hair, you did your best not to choke around him, welcoming him in again, over and over, until saliva and pre-cum dripped down your chin and along your bare chest.

“Mmnh….nnnhmm…” you moaned in approval, reaching up to hold onto his bucking hips, digging your nails into his protruding hip bones. You blinked more tears away, wanting to see Wooyoung’s sadistic face without the constant blurriness that plagued your vision. Whether you had a penchant for punishment or you were simply bloodthirsty, it caused you to prod at the vampire’s cock with your fangs, the tangy flavor of iron joining the abundance of precum that lubed up your throat.

“Fuck, you’re a naughty girl, biting me like that,” Wooyoung hissed in between violent thrusts, suddenly holding your head still when the entirety of his cock was inside your throat, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, satisfied with the filthy gurgling noises you couldn’t help but make for him, feeling more of your spit drip down his heavy balls. He smacked his hand against your cheek again, watching it grow rosy, before pinching your nose tightly. “But, you can’t help it, huh? You just want to be put in your place. I can’t blame you for that.”

The sensation was suffocating, the feeling of being used added onto the constant buzz of pleasure that was running through your veins; it was nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. It almost made you wish that you had let yourself be turned a long time ago. No one could stop you now, not even him. Maybe your humanity was slipping away from you, much like your sanity with each passing moment.

It wasn’t until you could breathe again and something warm, heavy, was pressing down on the tip of your tongue that you faded back into reality, just in time for Wooyoung to shoot a seemingly never-ending cumshot down the back of your aching throat.

“You’ll swallow, won’t you?” he asked sweetly, giving the bottom of your chin a light tickle with his clawed fingers.

When you stuck out your tongue to show him that nothing was left, Wooyoung grabbed you by the chin and yanked you towards him, biting the tip of your tongue to draw blood. You watched him suck it off with half-lidded eyes, having to close your thighs together to keep a fresh wave of slick from dripping out of you.

Before you knew it, he was on the floor with you, not even needing to pull you into his lap, groaning into your mouth as you climbed into it yourself, the heated kiss you shared consisting mostly of tongue, pointed teeth, and blood. You swapped red-tinted saliva back and forth, your hands working in tandem to tear off each other’s clothes and grope one another wherever you could, trying to create as much friction between your lower halves as you could, Wooyoung’s stiff cock rubbing deliciously into your clothed cunt.

You broke the kiss when your thirst once again grew too strong to ignore, reaching up to run your index finger over the mole on Wooyoung’s glistening bottom lip, hissing softly when he pierced it with one of his fangs. You both watched the blood slowly trickle down along your skin, sharing a similar look with one another, before you leaned in to lap it up, your tongues meeting in the middle.

As though telepathically connected, you reached to slip your panties off from underneath your skirt the same time Wooyoung undid the buttons of his pants, immediately rubbing at yourselves in order to get off as quickly as possible.

“Look at me when you cum,” Wooyoung demanded between huffs of air, staring you down past his wispy lashes, the speed at which he was stroking his cock producing lewd squelching sounds, his slender fingers slicked up with his abundant pre-cum.

Trembling, you opened up your teary eyes to look at Wooyoung, the indescribable pleasure etched into his face causing you to throb nonstop, curling your fingers up in just the right way to launch you into a world of ecstasy. “C-cumming…”

Wooyoung groaned at the sight and feeling of your release spilling into his lap, squeezing his hand tightly around the base of his cock, hot spurts of cum landing on your abdomen and dripping down your bare cunt, not even caring that you both dirted his designer jeans with your shared arousal. “I’m gonna make you do that again, on my cock this time, you hear me?” he growled at you, lifting you up like you weighed nothing and dropping you down onto his growing erection.

“Fuck,” you gasped sharply, holding onto his shoulders to keep your composure, your thighs still shaking from your residual pleasure, a low, burning pain present within your core as your hole stretched to accommodate the vampire’s size. “T-too much…”

Wooyoung’s ego just about doubled in that moment, his ringed fingers closing in on your soft waist, suddenly bucking his hips up into you like it was his sole mission to do so in the afterlife. Smiling smugly at the small, broken noises he was punching out of you with his vicious thrusts, he couldn’t help but let out a few crazed giggles. “Can’t take it now that I’m rearranging these pretty guts of yours, huh?” He mirrored your pout, his lower lip jutting out. “But, I thought you were my cum slut, my good little blood whore.”

“I am…! I–fuck, I am, Master…!” you found yourself crying out, tears inside your hazy eyes, tasting dried blood when you wet your dry lips, knowing you wouldn’t even recognize your reflection if you saw it now. You were a new model, remolded, changed for the better.

His hypnotic eyes began to glow. “Be a good sleeve and take it for your Master, yeah?”

You did as he said, taking everything he gave you like a pliant doll, letting him lick, bite, drink from you, and fuck you dumb for as long as his still heart desired, wondering if he was even aware of how much your blood boiled inside you.

Wooyoung was just like the others. They were all the same, treating you like a helpless toy, using you for their enjoyment and tossing you aside when they were bored, viewing your humanity as your downfall, and perhaps they were right. Like two magnets, you couldn’t live without the other, and now, you were a monster like him, one in the same.

Just as you both reached your climax together, holding desperately onto one another, Wooyoung’s bewitching gaze no longer holding captive, you felt a supreme power rise within yourself. You didn’t need him, not when you were now your own Master. The only thing you served now was your endless hunger.

Wooyoung couldn’t get you off once you latched onto his neck, gasping and sputtering, his constant struggles only forcing your fangs just that much deeper into his skin and the artery you had targeted, digging his claws into your back as a last ditch effort. “But, we…we made a pact,” he coughed out, his gravelly voice reflecting the immense pain he felt. He couldn’t fight back any longer, simply slumping back against the wall to accept his fate, holding his hand up to his torn neck, despite it not doing anything to prevent the crimson from flowing through his fingers. “I don’t understand…”

“I recall warning you that I was poisonous,” you replied softly, licking remnants of his precious life source from your stained lips.

He couldn’t help but smile, his eyes resembling half-moons. “Fair point, human…”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fanfic #kpop smut

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ikkyfics · 1 month ago

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When the Stars Fade

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises.

Warnings: dad!remus, mom!reader, est. relationship, no use of y/n, no use of a baby name, angst, no war au, sensitive content, mention of death, suicide, (according to dear @lupinzlover) major/massively giant hurt&comfort- in which remus loses everything

A/N: my dear lovely @boromoony, I know it took a while to fulfill your request (and reading it broke my heart a little) but I hope you can enjoy it <33 and I think we'll need some comfort later?

Masterlist

Remus knew—felt—that something was wrong. It wasn’t just the aftermath of the full moon. It was as if the air was heavy, carrying the weight of bitter promises. You had tried to reassure him, a tender smile on your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair.

“You’re just tired, love,” you said, your voice so calm it was hard to think otherwise. “Just rest, alright?”

“But—”

“Remus,” you gently chided, brushing away a stubborn strand of hair that insisted on falling over his eyes. Silver strands had begun to weave their way through the brown. “We’ll be back before you even notice. I promise.”

He wanted to protest—there were a thousand and one ways to argue—but he wanted to believe you. So he only nodded, feeling a small smile tug at his lips when you leaned in, kissing him softly, as if afraid to worsen the damage left by the last transformation.

“Just… don’t take too long, please,” he murmured against your lips.

“I won’t,” you promised, a bright smile on your lips as you pulled away.

Remus watched as you crouched beside the little one, your eyes softening when they met his over her small shoulder. The morning was quiet, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the soft giggles of the little girl, who was still playing with the hem of your coat.

“Shall we say goodbye to Daddy?” you asked gently, encouraging her with a warm smile.

She hesitated, clutching the stuffed toy in her hands—a small fabric wolf, its fur already worn from countless nights spent embraced in sleep. “Daddy’s sick?” she asked, her voice carrying the kind of innocent concern that only someone so small and blissfully unaware of the world’s horrors could have.

Remus swallowed hard, his heart clenching in his chest. He forced himself to smile, even as pain pulsed through every nerve in his body. “Daddy’s just tired, sweetheart,” he reassured her, his voice rough but warm, like a thick blanket on a cold night. “But I’ll be alright, I promise.”

She seemed to consider his words, her eyes—so much like his—studying him with a seriousness far beyond her age. Then, as if deciding he was telling the truth, she wiggled free from your grasp and ran toward the bed, stretching out her tiny arms.

“Kisses make everything better, Daddy,” she announced with conviction, pushing herself up on the mattress to reach his face.

Remus let out a quiet chuckle, the pain momentarily forgotten as he leaned in just enough for her to press a loud, exaggerated kiss to his cheek. “I think I’m already starting to feel better,” he admitted, with a sincerity that made your heart melt.

You stepped closer, lifting the little one into your arms, smoothing her unruly curls as you smiled at Remus. “Now it’s my turn,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. Before he could respond, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both soft and full of unspoken promises. He melted into you, aching body and all, as if that simple touch could erase the last few days of torment.

When you pulled away, it was only enough to rest your forehead against his. “Take care of yourself while we’re gone, okay? No pushing yourself past your limits.”

He sighed, exhaustion evident, but still managed to say, “I promise.” And though there was resignation in his voice, there was also a quiet trust, as if he truly wanted to believe everything would be alright.

You set the little one back down and began leading her toward the door, but not before casting one last glance at him—full of a tenderness that wrapped around him like warmth on a winter morning. She waved enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she called out, “Bye, Daddy! We’ll be back really soon!”

“Bye, my little one,” he replied, watching as she disappeared down the hall, followed by you.

When the sound of the door closing echoed through the house, silence settled once more. Remus let his body sink into the pillows, his eyes slipping shut. He could still catch the lingering scent in the air—yours, mixed with the faint lavender that always clung to his daughter.

He turned his head to the side, resting it against the pillow’s softness. He knew he should get up, maybe make some tea or at least check if anything needed tending to, but the mere thought of moving even a finger felt unbearable. The exhaustion wasn’t just physical; it was something that had settled deep in his bones, a weariness that no amount of sleep or rest ever seemed to truly mend.

“It’s alright,” he whispered into the empty room, as if the words themselves could chase away the unease gnawing at his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus on anything other than the unsettling feeling that something was off. But exhaustion was stronger than worry. His body no longer gave him a choice, and he felt himself slipping further away.

The world around him faded, distant and blurred, the only thing lingering in his mind being the soft scent in the air.

Remus never noticed the exact moment he fell asleep.

There was no transition—just a slow, quiet fading, like a candle burning down to its final flicker.

And then, his body surrendered to the pull of sleep.

Remus woke with a jolt. A sharp, insistent sound echoed through the house, reverberating against the walls in a rhythm that seemed to match the frantic beating of his heart. He blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness filling the room. What had once been the warm glow of morning had now turned into deep, heavy shadows.

The first thing he felt was pain. Not a simple ache, but something deep, visceral. Every muscle, every bone in his body throbbed with the painful memory of the transformation. His fingers trembled as he brought them to his forehead, trying to ease the pressure building there. His chest burned, as if something unseen was pressing down on him with relentless force. He took a deep breath—or at least tried to—but the air felt thick, too heavy to fill his lungs.

The knocking continued, louder now, as if demanding his attention. He tried to sit up, but the movement sent a sharp pain straight to his ribs—a cruel reminder of the violence he inflicted upon himself every month. The pain made him choke on a low groan, but he ignored it, focusing on the sound that had woken him. Something was wrong. He could feel it in the air, like an invisible current buzzing around him. The weight in his chest, which had once felt like nothing more than lingering worry, was now suffocating.

With difficulty, he forced himself to his feet, every step a battle against exhaustion and pain. The house was silent, save for the persistent knocking. He passed through the living room, where his daughter's toys were still scattered across the floor, just as she had left them. The sight made something inside him tighten. You always complained about the mess, but now… now it felt untouched, as if moving anything would break something far more fragile than just the order of the house.

When he finally reached the door, he hesitated. A part of him didn’t want to open it. A part of him knew that whatever was on the other side would not be good. Still, with trembling hands, he turned the doorknob.

The man standing outside was unfamiliar. Tall, severe-looking, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. The Ministry badge hung from the pocket of his jacket, a silent reminder of his authority. He looked uneasy, as if the words he was about to speak already weighed on him before they had even been said.

"Mr. Lupin?" The man’s voice was low but firm, carrying something Remus couldn’t quite identify yet.

"Yes," he answered, his voice rough with exhaustion and confusion. "What’s going on?"

"I… it’s a sensitive matter. May I come in?" the man asked, glancing briefly at the surroundings as if assessing the place.

"No," Remus answered almost immediately, his chest tightening further. He gripped the doorframe, his knuckles turning white. "Just tell me what happened."

The official hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the refusal, but something in Remus’s eyes made him continue. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if he needed to brace himself for the impact of his own words.

"Mr. Lupin… there was an accident. Your wife and daughter were involved." He paused, but continued before Remus could process it. "Unfortunately… neither of them survived."

For a moment, the world stopped. The words echoed in his mind, repeating in a cruel loop, like a broken record. He blinked, once, twice, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare. But the nightmare was real. He could see it in the man’s eyes, in the way he avoided direct contact, in the tension that seemed to suffocate the air around them.

"No," Remus finally managed to say, his voice breaking. He took a step back, as if distance could undo what he had just heard. "No… you’re wrong. This can’t be right."

"Mr. Lupin," the official began, but Remus raised a hand, cutting him off.

"You’re wrong!" he shouted, his voice filled with a pain so raw it seemed to tear through the air. "They were fine! I saw them this morning! They were fine!"

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true. He knew, deep down, that something had been wrong. That he had felt it all day—that lingering feeling, that inexplicable weight.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his knees in the doorway, his hands gripping his hair so tightly it was as if he wanted to rip it out. He shook his head, muttering "no, no, no" over and over, as if the words could somehow undo what had been said.

The official took a hesitant step forward, but Remus stopped him with a look so utterly broken that the man froze in place.

"I should have gone with them," Remus whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I should have protected them. This is my fault…"

And there, in the dim glow of his empty house, with the weight of those words still hanging in the air, Remus shattered. He didn’t just cry; he broke. Every sob was a strangled scream, every tear a piece of himself that he knew he would never get back.

Remus woke with a jolt, the sound of your voice calling his name shattering the suffocating veil of the nightmare. It was as if he were emerging from a deep, dark ocean, struggling to breathe, to understand where he was. The dim evening light filtered through the curtains, and he realized he was in bed, the sheets tangled around him, damp with sweat. But it was your voice—soft, worried, so incredibly real—that anchored him to reality.

"Remus? Love, are you okay?"

He turned quickly, eyes wide, still filled with a pain that seemed impossible to contain. There you were, kneeling beside the bed, your expression full of concern and tenderness, a gentle hand resting on his arm. Before any words could be spoken, before he could even process that it had all been just a nightmare, he reached for you, his arms wrapping around your waist with an almost desperate urgency.

"You're here," he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "You're here. You’re both here."

You barely had time to react before he buried his face in your shoulder, holding you with a force that seemed to want to merge you into one. That’s when you felt the warm dampness on your shirt—he was crying. His tears were silent but intense, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you as if afraid you might disappear.

"Remus," you murmured softly, your fingers threading through his hair in an instinctive, soothing gesture. "Hey, love, it's okay. We're here. I'm here. Everything's okay."

He shook his head against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you even more, as if trying to absorb your presence, your life. He seemed to be breathing you in—the familiar lavender scent in your hair, the warmth of your body—everything that proved you were real. That this wasn’t another cruel illusion.

"It was a nightmare," he finally managed to say, his voice barely audible. "Oh, Merlin, it was horrible. I thought… I thought I lost you."

Before you could respond, there was a small sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed by a sleepy, curious voice. "Daddy?"

The little one stood at the bedroom door, clutching one of her favorite stuffed toys against her chest. The moment he saw her, Remus let out a shaky breath, as if the crushing weight on his chest had suddenly lifted.

He reached out for her without letting go of you entirely. "Come here, my little one."

She ran to him in that clumsy, adorable way that only a child could, climbing onto the bed with your help. As soon as she reached her father, he pulled her into the embrace, holding both of you with a protective intensity that spoke louder than any words. He kissed her forehead several times, murmuring between kisses, "My little girl… my love… you're okay. You're here."

She blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, clearly sensing the emotion in the air even if she didn’t fully understand it. "Daddy, are you crying?"

Remus laughed, a low, broken sound, but still filled with tenderness. "Yes, I am, my angel. But don’t worry, Daddy's okay now. You saved me."

"Saved you from what?" She tilted her head, wrapping her tiny arms around him.

"From myself," he answered softly, pressing another kiss to the top of her head. Then he looked at you, his eyes still glistening with tears, but now overflowing with a gratitude that was almost too much to hold. "And from a nightmare. A terrible nightmare."

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your fingers intertwining with his as you offered him a reassuring smile. "We're here, Remus. It was just a bad dream. We're okay, all of us. And we always will be."

He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face—the way your eyes shone, the soft curve of your lips. "I don’t know what I’d do without you." His voice was so raw, so vulnerable, it made your heart ache.

"You don’t have to think about that," you murmured, your other hand sliding over his face, wiping away any lingering tears. "Because you’ll never be without us."

The little one, now nestled between the two of you, decided to contribute, cupping Remus’s face in her small hands. "I take care of you, Daddy," she declared with the seriousness of someone who truly believed she could protect the whole world. "I'm strong."

Remus smiled, a tired but utterly loving smile. "I know you are, my angel. You're the strongest girl in the world."

The night carried on with the three of you together, curled up in bed like a cocoon of warmth against any darkness that the world might try to cast. Remus didn’t let go of you or his daughter for even a second, and the feeling of your warmth surrounding him was all he needed to keep the shadows at bay. The nightmare still echoed somewhere in the back of his mind, but now, wrapped in the love of his family, he knew he was safe. And he knew he’d never have to face anything alone.

Things should have happened like that, but the world is not made of fairy tales.

You didn’t come home that night, or any other night. Remus never heard the comforting sound of his daughter’s laughter again, never felt the warmth of your hands in his hair or the soft touch of tiny fingers holding his face with the same seriousness of someone who believed they could heal the world. There were no more mornings where the bed was warmed by the bodies he loved so much, no more nights where the weight of your presence beside him kept the darkness at bay. Everything had been ripped away so cruelly and abruptly, leaving behind an emptiness so devastating it seemed impossible to fill.

The days following the accident were a haze, each one more unbearable than the last. Remus didn’t remember the formalities—the words spoken by the Ministry officials on that fateful day, the empty condolences that felt so meaningless, the details of the accident that he barely managed to absorb. None of it mattered. Everything was a blur, except for the crushing certainty that you and your daughter were no longer there.

He was forced to face reality on the morning of the funeral. The coffin was too small, accompanied by another that, though larger, seemed just as wrong. He remembered standing there, paralyzed, as the earth was thrown over the caskets. The feeling of cold soil was almost tangible, as if each handful buried more than just the bodies—it buried his very soul along with them.

James, Sirius, and Peter were there. They stood beside him throughout the ceremony, their presence almost suffocating in their attempt to support their friend. James, his eyes red and glassy with unshed tears, tried to steady Remus when he wavered under the weight of it all. Sirius, always so loud and full of life, was silent, his face a mask of restrained grief as he stared at the caskets. And Peter, who never knew how to handle intense emotions, offered a trembling handshake and a look that overflowed with sadness he didn’t know how to express.

Despite their efforts, nothing they said or did seemed to reach Remus. Not James’s whispered reassurances, not Sirius’s hand on his shoulder, not Peter’s quiet solidarity. They tried, and he knew they tried, but the cruel truth was that no one could reach the abyss he was trapped in.

And then the house—the one you had turned into a home—became a mausoleum. The little girl’s toys were still scattered across the living room floor, her favorite blanket draped over the couch where she used to curl up with him. Your hairbrush remained in the bathroom, strands of your hair still woven into its bristles. Your clothes and hers still hung in the wardrobe, as if at any moment, you could walk through the door and undo this nightmare. But you didn’t. You never would.

James visited a few times, bringing food that Remus had no energy to eat, insisting on conversation. Sirius showed up, too, trying to cheer him up with stories from the past, desperate to coax a smile from him. Peter came once or twice, quiet as always, but his presence was a subtle reminder that they were still there for him. But none of it mattered. No words or gestures could fill the void you and your daughter had left behind.

The nights were the worst. The solitude was suffocating, and Remus would find himself sitting in the chair by the cold fireplace, staring at the portrait of you. A picture taken on a sunny day in the garden, your daughter on his lap while you sat beside him, laughing at something he could no longer remember. He spent hours looking at that image, desperately trying to anchor himself in the memories. But they weren’t enough. They could never replace the warmth of you, the sound of the voices he would never hear again.

He tried to move forward. For you. For James, Sirius, and Peter—for little Harry, who hadn’t even learned to speak yet—who kept showing up, who kept insisting that he wasn’t alone. But it was a lie. He was alone. Because without you and without her, the world was gray and empty, an existence he didn’t know how to endure.

And then, one morning, as the timid sun struggled to break through the gray clouds, he decided he couldn’t anymore. He sat on the bed—the same bed you once shared—and realized it no longer made sense. There was nothing left to fight for, no reason to stay. He was tired. So, so tired.

He left a single letter, written with trembling hands and a shattered heart. It wasn’t long, because there wasn’t much to say. Just one final confession of love, to you and to your daughter, and an apology for not being strong enough to go on without you.

When Remus’s body was found days later, he was surrounded by pictures of you both. The letter still lay beside the bed, the paper stained with tears. He looked peaceful, as if, for the first time in weeks, he had found some semblance of rest.

His grave was placed beside yours, just as he would have wanted. In the silent cemetery, three headstones stood side by side, marking what was once a family and what could have been. James, Sirius, and Peter were there the day he was buried. James was the last to leave, lingering beside his friend’s grave, his eyes glistening with tears he didn’t bother to hide.

On Remus’s headstone, only a simple inscription, yet one heavy with meaning:

Reunited with those he loved.

And so, the world lost another soul, drowned in a grief too heavy to bear.

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

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YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. thus, he sets his sights on your professor.

word count; 4.3k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.

a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

”haah…”

— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.

just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.

another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment.

”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”

you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.

”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”

he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”

then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.

even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.

but you just won’t listen.

”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”

a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.

”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”

at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.

”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”

and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.

time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right.

of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.

still, though.

”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”

you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”

”my little night owl.”

that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.

with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”

satoru softens.

(always so good to him.)

”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”

in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.

he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.

satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease.

satoru thinks you deserve everything good.

it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.

so he’s been worried.

it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.

he just doesn’t trust your professor.

that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.

it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.

(it was only a matter of time.)

satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.

and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —

it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.

it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled.

there’s only one way to satiate it.

so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.

then he grabs his coat and slips outside.

the moon is visible through the window.

a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast.

(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)

”who… w — what are — ?”

satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure.

just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick.

he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.

he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.

he just can’t bring himself to care.

”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”

silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat.

it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.

satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”

another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.

then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”

the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.

before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”

it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair.

he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.

but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.

a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.

the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.

finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve.

three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly.

there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact.

that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.

(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?

it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)

there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.

and there you are.

on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes.

you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.

suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.

“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”

his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.

“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.”

he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch.

but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.

satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious.

so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.

(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)

“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.

“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”

“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”

satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat.

and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance.

“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”

and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”

again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”

“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”

and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.

“right! i almost forgot!”

then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.

he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.

but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance.

satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.

you, you, you. the only thing that exists.

all of him is for you.

”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw.

”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”

”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”

another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.

so precious that he forgets about everything else.

this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care.

you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.

it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it.

(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)

as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date.

satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.

“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”

satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”

“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“

“— yet.”

a pause.

satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”

a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist.

he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”

a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.

“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”

satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.

”you’re so gross.”

a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”

”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue.

”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.”

”charmer.”

”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”

and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.

the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think.

satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?

all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.

he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.

“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”

he prays it never will.

#im a lil unsure how to feel abt this piece i feel like it lost its flow pretty quickly 😔👉👈but i rlly did have fun writing it hehe #my baseline for yan!gojo is basically; a kind man who’s so in love w u that he’s willing to compromise his own morals to keep u safe #he’s not particularly possessive or even obsessive?? to him violence really is just . a necessary means to keep u happy #this is almost definitely the only yan piece ill ever write bUT im very fond of this gojo … he’s a tortured little meowmeow <33 #cw yandere #yandere gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #tw yandere

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slut4hee · 2 months ago

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Prize Possession

{Paring: Club Owner Jeong Yunho x Blk Stripper Fem! Reader

{Genre: pure dirty smut, strip club au, mafia au, a little angst, 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: You’re just a small town girl, who’s never had it easy in life. That’s until you started working at the Sparkle City nightclub, where you meet Jeong Yunho one of the most richest and dangerous mafia bosses in the city.

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, unprotected sex, (wrap it, before you tap it), creampie, choking, big dick yunho!!backshots, missionary (with the silver chain hanging yup teehee), fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, breeding dirty talk, pet names, Yunho is nasty nasty, mentions of murders, alcohol consumption, lmk if I missed anything bookies<33

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“FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT” You shouted at your good for nothing ex boyfriend. You had just caught him cheating in your shared bedroom, sleeping around with the bitch he clearly told you not to worry about. You should have seen this coming though, all the late nights in, the constant excuses on why he always smelled like another women’s perfume.

You were so over his all his bullshit, all the lies, and all the sleepless nights you cried yourself to sleep, you were truly done. Tears streamed down your face, as you tugged your heavy luggage down the steps of the apartment complex, but you weren’t crying of a broken heart, it was tears of exhaustion.

You were already so numb to the pain you’ve been through in your life, that something like cheating was so minor to you. The only thing running through your mind is where you would lay your head tonight, you were broke as fuck, only 200 to your name which was not enough to get you by for the remaining of the week.

“Fuck this shit, I can’t believe I let myself go through that shit for so long” You said to yourself, as you set on the curve of the road, laying out your options and contemplating what the hell you were going to do. You could check yourself into a motel for tonight, but that would only get you by for the night, plus that would take all you have.

You pulled out your phone, opening up your contact list and scrolling down, until you stopped at your best friend’s contact name. Your finger hovered over the screen, as you contemplated whether you should call her or not, you genuinely didn’t want to bother her but she was the only person you could call.

You didn’t have your parents, your mom died when you were only thirteen years old, and when that happened your father also lost himself, turning to alcohol and drugs. You finally said fuck it and dialed her number, and after three rings she picked up the call.

“What’s up girl, let me guess that motherfucker ain’t came home yet?” Your best friend Nini asked, you could tell she wasn’t home by the loud music playing in the back, she must be at work.

“Hey Ni girl, I just caught his bitch ass cheating on me, with the bitch from down the street” You sighed, disgusted with yourself to even call that pig your ex boyfriend.

“Noo, are you serious right now, with that hoe Makayla or whatever the fuck her name is” Nini said in disbelief, you shivered as you started to feel your body getting cold by the late night breeze, reminding yourself that you were currently homeless.

“So where are you now love bug?” Nini inquired, you bit your lip nervously, hesitant to tell her that you have no where to go, but Nini would never judge you so you just let her know straight up.

“Bitch I’m on the curve of the road right now, I don’t have nowhere to go Ni” You said, you were genuinely so embarrassed to tell your best friend that, feeling the tears starting to prick at your waterlines.

“Oh my god girl, why are you just hanging out by the side of the road this late at night, are you crazy? I tell you what, I’m gonna get you a ride to my spot and you can crash as long as you want okay?” Nini said, you fought back your tears before thanking her and telling her much you appreciated her, without Nini you don’t know where you would be right now.

Not long after the Uber had picked you up from your shitty little town, and brought you to Nini’s high rise apartment in the city. Nini was a stripper, so she could afford to live like this, you on the other hand was barely making it. Some parts of you thought about becoming a stripper, but you just weren’t that type of girl, no judgement though especially to your best friend. But honest truth, you couldn’t see yourself becoming a stripper.

Oh so you thought….

⋆˚࿔

Nini wasn’t going to be home until later on tonight, she was working a late night shift, so she just gave you the passcode to her apartment and told you to make yourself at home. Her apartment was so spacious and luxurious, you hope one day you could call a place like this your home as well.

You sat your stuff down as you settled in, it was a two bedroom apartment, so you obviously took the guest room. Your stomach growled, reminding you that you haven’t eaten a single thing, since this morning. You thought the least you could do is buy you and your bestie food, so you settled on ordering Chinese takeout.

It was around 2 in the morning when you finally heard the keypad buttons being pressed, indicating Nini was finally home. You were already lounging on the couch, so you greeted her when she came in.

“Hey girl, so good to see you boo, long day at work?” You stood up from the couch, walking over to her and embracing her in a tight hug. She returned your hug with a little snuggle in your neck, sighing exhaustingly.

“Yes girl, we were packed tonight, we have this deal on the weekends, where you can get a free lap dance if you drop a band tip” She said tiredly, spotting the takeout boxes and helping herself to it.

“I’m guessing you had a lot of request huh?” You said cheeky, winking at her playfully. She rolled her eyes at your childishness, stuffing her face like she hasn’t eaten in days.

“Not to bring it up again, but I can’t believe that little ass boy played you like that” She said muffled, the food still being stuffed in her mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, before plopping back down on the couch.

“Yeah girl same, but it’s whatever fuck him, I’m done playing with little boys like him, who claim they’re real men when they’re not. All I’m thinking about is finding another job” You said, you had recently quit your other job, because it just got too stressful for you.

“How about you come work with me at Sparkle City?” Nini said a little hesitantly, she’s brought it up to you before, but of course you shot her down, so of course she expected the same response.

You started to actually think real hard about it, I mean could it really be that bad, I mean your best does it so it couldn’t be that big of a deal.

“I don’t know about that Ni, I mean do I even meet the requirements, plus you know how I feel about putting my body on display” You said, and quickly apologizing after, you didn’t want it to sound like an insult but Nini never took offense she knew you didn’t mean any harm.

“Just think about it baby, you’ll be making hella bank like me, plus with a body like that you’ll for sure make a killing” Your best friend reassured you, she’s always hyping you up, when you start to feel insecure or belittle yourself. But she knew it was caused by trauma, you went through in your past.

“I tell you what, come with me to work tomorrow night, and just check the place out to see if it would be something you’re up for” She said understandably, you nodded before going back to thinking real hard about her offer, you honestly loved the idea of making tons of cash, and being able to take good care of yourself because you fucking deserved it.

⋆˚࿔

The day went by fast and it was time for Nini to go to work, you don’t know why you were so nervous, it’s not like you’ve never been to a strip club before. But you guess, it was because this was possibly going to be your new job now. You and Nini got ready, and headed to Sparkle City, one of the most famous nightclubs in the city.

When you walked inside the club, you were immediately hit with different fumes of smells, some smelling of weed, alcohol, sweat, and different scents of perfumes and colognes. The club was actually really nice, the lights dim with a shade of purple, and the vibes of the place gave off a vintage yet modern style.

“ I have to go get ready, I just got word that one of my regulars are here, aka the one who literally pays all my bills” She stuck her tongue out playfully at you, before disappearing in the back. You on the other hand, you made your way over to the bar, ordering a drink you could barely afford, and taking in the scenery of the place.

As you’re sipping on your drink, you couldn’t help but get the feeling someone’s staring at you. You turned around, to check your surroundings, and that’s when your eyes landed on him. A South Korean gentleman, tall and handsome with an aura that was so intimidating.

His gaze was intense yet, nonchalant as a little smirk was plastered across his face. You tried to look away but it’s like you were paralyzed, you couldn’t move a muscle. That’s when someone finally knocked you out of trance, another handsome gentleman, but not as handsome as Mr tall and mysterious.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself, sitting here all alone by herself for?” The man inquired, taking a seat next to you.

“I’m just enjoying the vibes” You simply said, taking another sip of your drink. You don’t know why, but you found yourself looking back over at the tall gentleman’s direction, his gaze still on you, but this time his smirk was a lot more noticeable almost amusing as he raised an eyebrow at you.

The guy next to you offered to buy you a drink and of course you took the offer, I mean who were you to turn down free drinks. The whole time you kept stealing glances at the tall handsome man, even though he was accompanied by two beautiful women on his lap, his attention was solely focused on you.

Suddenly he whispered something to the two women in their ears, before they got up from his lap and dismissed themselves. His eyes never left yours, in fact it’s like he called you over without exchanging any words or gestures. You just found yourself getting up from your seat, and making your way over to his section, totally ignoring the other guy asking where are you going.

Now that you were up closer, you could finally make out just how fucking sexy he was, his sliver hair, and lips plump and pink. His eyes were so pretty and intriguing, and don’t even get you started on his style, dressed in all black paired with a whole bunch of jewelry, you could tell he was rich.

“What took you so long baby, kept staring at me but kept me waiting so long” His deep voice caused shivers to run down your spine, fuck this man was going to be the death of you already, and you didn’t even fucking know him.

“Correction sir, you were staring at me” You said, trying to sound confident but your voice wavered a bit, he was making you so nervous and imitated. He let out a little chuckle, and fuck was it the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard, you were ready to drop your panties then and there.

“You stared back sweetheart, I guess we’re both guilty” He said softly, smirking at you with that fucking look, god he’s so fine you thought, if it meant he came to this club all the time, then who’s the person you need to see to apply!

“Are you here all alone baby girl?” He suddenly asked, tilting his head to side, as he checked you out from head to toe, waiting for your answer. You bit your lip nervously, before answering his question.

“No, my friend strips here, I’m just tagging along” You simply said, subconsciously scooting closer to him. He noticed, and smiled before scooting himself closer as well, and at this point you’re almost in his lap.

“Who’s your friend? And I haven’t seen you around here before, are you thinking about working here as well?” He inquired, placing his hand on your thigh, just resting it there but to you it was setting you off, heat rushing to your cheeks and core. His hands were so big, you could imagine how they would feel wrapped your ne-

“Hmm?” He hummed, knocking you out of your dirty thoughts.

“Oh um, her name is Nini, and yes I’m thinking about stripping here” You said a little hesitantly, you didn’t really feel too great giving out your best friend’s name, and telling a complete sexy stranger your plans of applying to work here, but it’s like you were under some spell just by the look in his eyes.

“Mmm I see, first time stripper eh?” He said, voice so deep but smooth like butter. You raised your eyebrow at him, how did he know you never stripped before.

“And how would you know I’ve never stripped before, I could be a pro you know” You said matter of fact, he chuckled softly again, shaking his head at your cuteness. Of course he could tell you were a beginner, just be the way you looked so tense.

“I just can tell mama, definitely don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, are you sure you want to step into this lifestyle? It can get pretty dangerous in this territory” He leaned over to you and whispered those words in your ear. You felt a chill run down your spine, both from being turned on by his hot breath on your neck, and the meaning behind his words.

“I’m a big girl I can take it, thank you very much” You replied, trying to sound tough and confident as possible. He just smirked and chuckled at you, before getting up from the velvet couch.

“Then I hope to see your pretty face around here then, I could get used to that you know” He simply said, before sparing you one last look, as he disappeared somewhere in the club. You don’t know why, but his words laid heavy on your conscious, did he know something? Who was he? why did he seem so informed with everything?

The night came to an end, and you ended up putting in an application and getting interviewed by one of the staff members, he was another South Korean gentleman, long black silky hair, and fine fine. He told you that they would get back to you, after your background check comes back clean and that would decide if you get hired or not.

Two days had passed and you finally got a call back saying your background check came back clean, and you were hired. You were happy you got the job, but you were super nervous, you didn’t really know how to work the pole and you didn’t even know how everything’s supposed to work.

Luckily you had Nini, she’s been stripping since she was 19, and she’s definitely a pro. She has a pole in her room, so she allowed you to practice with it, and honestly you’ve always been a fast learner, so you learned the basics pretty quickly.

Friday night came fast, it was officially your first day as a dancer, and you were anxious as fuck. Nini was a good support system though, making sure you were okay, showing you around the locker room and laying down the important rules that applied to the dancers.

“So what color are you going to wear for your first session, red always looks good on you boo” Nini said, as she applied her makeup. You smiled at her, before holding up both the red and the pink to your naked body in the mirror, as you contemplated on what color you should wear.

You decided on red of course, it just brought out your skin tone, pretty smooth brown skin, in red lingerie. You couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable though, the outfit you were wearing was nothing but provocative, a thin little lace thong and a red corset top. You did look so good though, titties sitting up nicely in your top, and your plump ass on full display.

Finally it was your turn to go on stage, and you started to freak out a little. You swallowed your nerves down the best way you could, before making your way to the stage, your six inch heels clicking as you walked. You hoped that they would play a song that you knew, just to make it easier for you to move to the beat.

Luckily for you, they were playing The Party & The After Party by The Weekend, one of your favorite songs and something slow you could work with. As the song played, you got lost in the music, swaying your curvy hips as you rolled your body down the silver pole

You could feel all the attention on you and honestly it felt good, which was a feeling you didn’t expect to feel, money and praise being thrown at you, as you moved your ass left to right. Finally you looked out to the crowd, and that’s when you laid eyes on none other than the gentleman before.

He had the same exact piercing gaze, but this time it was different, his eyes were dark with lust, hunger, and curiosity. You played along as you kept eye contact with him, bending over on the pole, as you wiggled your ass nicely. He shifted in his seat, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and if you weren’t seeing things, he mumbled a curse under his breath.

Your dance came to an end, and your made your way backstage, where Nini and some the other girls complimented you on your first dance.

“Damn girl, if I was a man I’ll definitely be hard as a rock right now” one of the other strippers, Lala said. You giggled at her comment, and thanked her.

“No seriously, you did an amazing job sweets, even Mr Jeong came to watch your first performance” Nini said, you looked at her confused, and she snorted, she totally forgot to run that by you about who the boss is, literally the most important part.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot to tell you about who runs this place, so his name is Jeong Yunho, he’s the owner of Sparkle City, he’s also know as Black Demon. One of the most dangerous and feared men in the city” Nini said with no hesitation, meanwhile you’re about to have a panic attack, what do you mean you’re working for a mafia boss?!

You’ve heard of the name Black Demon, even back in your small city, you remember reading about all the possible murders, that are all supposed to link back to him. That brings you back to the night that gentleman said those words to you, and now you knew just what he meant.

“How does he look, is he some creepy old Italian guy, who walks with a cane” You said seriously, but all the others laughed at your remark.

“No silly, he’s actually pretty young and handsome, but he’s really tall, like tall tall and he’s Korean. Oh, and he has silver hair” Nini said nonchalantly, your eyes widened as you registered her words, the gentleman you met at the club the other night, was the owner of this nightclub and he’s in the fucking mafia.

You quickly pulled Nini to side, whispering shouting at her, about why she didn’t let you know beforehand that you were going to working under a criminal.

“You could have at least told me, what I was getting myself into girl, what if something was to happen here” You said, you weren’t really upset, just a little terrified of the possibility of danger here.

“I didn’t think you would mind, plus what type of people do you think run these types of places, CEOs and government workers?” She said sarcastically, you rolled your eyes at her scoffed.

“No, but maybe just regular people, not deadly killers like him, do you know how many people he’s had killed” you exclaimed a little to loud for Nini’s liking, she quickly grabbed you by the arm, shushing you and taking you somewhere more secluded.

“Fuck Y/n, you can’t just be saying shit like that here, you really gotta watch what comes out of your mouth around here. If that shit gets back to Mr Yunho, both of heads will be on a sliver platter” She said with all seriousness, no hint of playfulness in her tone. You felt an eerie chill run down your spine, as you nodded in agreement.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, you had two dances the whole night, and just from those two performances alone you made $500 In total, that would have took you two weeks to make at a regular 9-5, but with stripping you made it in just a day.

You could definitely get used to this lifestyle, continuous money showers raining down on you, all from that shaking a little ass, and popping a titty? It was simply so easy. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t on edge the whole time though, the new found information you got from Nini, was all starting to make sense.

You actually took time, to really look around the place, and it was all so obvious. Men dressed in all black suits, with guns on their hips, and the rule of not being all to enter the boss’s office without permission. You could also tell drug deals goes on here, a bunch of corporate executives and CEO’s, disappearing into the secret room, only to come out looking high out their minds.

Finally your long shift ended, and your feet were killing you, you don’t how these girls around here lasted everyday wearing these tall ass heels. You gave the club their percentage, and took the rest for yourself. You threw back on your regular clothes, and waited for Nini, to get finished with her private session, she was one of the popular dancers, so she had a lot of rich ass regulars that always came and spent hella money for a private lap dance.

You decide to reward yourself with a nice little drink, the fruity alcoholic beverage hitting the spot after a long day of standing on your feet. As you’re enjoying your drink, you felt someone tap you on the shoulder, and that’s when you turned around and you were faced with the same man who interviewed for the job.

“Miss Y/n, the boss has requested your presence to his office” The man simply said, his stone cold expression giving you chills, your heart started to beat out of your chest, why did Mr Jeong want to see you? Were you in trouble? Are you going to die? Did someone overhear you and Nini’s conversation from earlier.

All those thoughts started to run through your head at once, as you nervously nodded your head, and stood from your seat following him into the back of the club. Your palms were so sweaty, and your legs wobbled slightly as you walked, were you about to die? He led you down a long vintage looking hallway, stopping two tall double doors.

“You may enter, boss is waiting for you inside” The man said, before turning away from you, and standing by the door like a statute. You assumed he was one of Yunho’s men. Your hands were shaky, as you hesitated to push the doors open, you didn’t know what you were about to face and it scared the living hell out of you.

Finally you pushd the doors open, and you were hit with a faint smell of an incense burning, his office was more like a lounge, vintage furnished and expensive chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. There was even a pole in the middle of the room, and not to mention, the big liquor cabinet, with tons of expensive glasses and brown liquor.

You made your way around the corner, and there he was, lounging on the couch as held one of the expensive looking glasses in his hand, half full of some type of brown liquor. He was clad in a black button down shirt, with some of buttons opened to see his chest, and black slacks that showed the outline of his skinny waist.

“Y-you wanted to see me sir?” You stuttered, barely managing to get your words out. He grinned softly, as he twirled the brown sustenance around in his cup.

“Would you like to have a drink with me” He said softly, gesturing you towards the spot next to him on the couch. You managed to walk over and take a seat next to him, your legs felt stiff, like they were going to give out on you any minute.

He grabbed you a glass off the table and poured bourbon whiskey inside of it. You’ve never had whiskey before, it was way too expensive to buy, but he had a whole case full of it.

“I hope you don’t mind taking whiskey, it’s the only thing I drink” He said, staring deep into your eyes as he handed you the drink.

“I’ve never had whiskey before, but all about trying new things” You said before, holding the glass up to your nose and smelling it. The scent was strong, and you could tell it was going to burn your throat, but being a pussy was not in your nature. Yunho watched you carefully the whole time, watching as you down the shot of whiskey.

And just how you imagined, the brown liquor burned the hell out of your throat, your eyes watering like hell. Yunho smirked at you in amusement, you were an intriguing little thing, taking a whiskey neat shot like a champ, he was so turned on by you.

You cleared your throat before breaking the silence, the room was starting to grow hot, the tension in the room was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“I didn’t know you owned this club” You said carefully, trying not to make full eye contact with him, his presence was so dangerous for you, his aura was addicting and you were eating it all up. You’ve never felt so weak for a man, like you do for Yunho, he makes you want to submit to him, makes you want to serve him like he’s your master.

“You seemed like a smart girl, thought you would’ve been able to read between lines bunny” He said, voice husky and slightly raspy from drinking the whiskey, you fought to keep your composure, your things starting to rub together at the nicknames he was giving you.

You swallowed your hard, not trusting your own voice to say another word, you just looked around timidly, waiting to see what his motive was. And that’s when he said that…

“Dance for me” He suddenly said, staring at you with an unreadable expression, your eyes widened as you stared back at him in shock. Did he really just ask you to dance for him?

“Y-you want me to dance for you?” You repeated, starting to squirm nervously in your seat. He simply nodded, biting his bottom lip, as he laid his back against the couch, relaxing his shoulders. You sat there in silence at first, trying to process everything at once, it’s not like you could tell him no, Could you tell him no? You thought to yourself as you pondered and pondered.

“I want you to repeat the same dance you did earlier, but this time can we make it a little bit more interesting shall we?” He smirked, taking another shot of whiskey, you could tell he was tipsy by the way his pupils were now blown out and glassy.

“Make it interesting how?” You inquired, anxiously fiddling with your fingers. He grabbed a small black remote, dimming the lights of the room changing it to the same shade of red like you had for your stage dance.

“Do it naked, just for me” He replied, you almost choked on your own spit, he wants you to dance naked for him, is he out of his mind?!

“I don’t think that’s appropriate sir, I can’t” You said, yes he was fine and yes he was a mafia leader, but you still had respect for yourself, or so you thought…

“You know baby, I don’t usually take to the dancers that work at my club, but you baby, you been driving me insane since I first laid eyes on you” He said, you do remember Nini telling you that Yunho never slept or interacted sexually with any of them, of course there were plenty of the girls who threw themselves at him, but he always turned them down.

“You’re telling me I’m special huh” You said, starting to feel less nervous and anxious because of his intriguing words.

“Yes, indeed you are baby girl, now be a good girl and get up there and dance for me” He smirked, as he poured himself another drink, waiting patiently for you to follow his orders. You got up from the couch, and made your way over to the pole. Yunho stared shamelessly at your ass, as it jiggled when you walked.

He pressed play on the music, and the beat of the song came through the speakers of the lounge. You started to slowly strip out of your clothes, luckily your regular clothes consisted of a pair of booty shorts and a lace crop top. You turned around and bent over, your ass facing him as you slowly eased out of your thong.

Yunho let out a quiet groan, shifting around in his seat, as he adjusted his legs. You could tell the effect you had on him, boy were you letting it go over your head, you swayed and rolled your body just like you did on stage, Yunho was watching so intently, taking another sip from his drink, as he enjoyed your dirty dancing.

You swirled around the pole, doing the tricks that Nini taught you, and then you hopped off the pole and made your way over to him. You stood right in front of him, as you shake your ass and danced provocatively. He spread his legs, and you took the hint now giving him a lap dance as you grind and twerk your ass in his lap.

You could feel how hard he was, cock straining painful through his slacks, begging for some sort of relief. As much as you loved and respected him for just watching and enjoying without touching, you wanted him to touch you, to feel his big strong hands on your body.

“Mmm touch me baby” You said, your pussy now leaking onto his slacks, you were so turned on from this, and so was he. He bit his lip harshly, before going to rub on your ass and waist, you were such a sinful sight.

“God fucking damnit, you’re making it difficult to resist you right now baby” He groaned, squeezing your asscheeks and spreading them apart to look at your wet glistening folds. You moaned softly, as he spread your pussy lips apart, to see how tight and small your hole is.

“Then don’t resist sir, take me please” You begged shamelessly, Yunho could feel his cock twitching in the confines of his boxers, it was not like him to fuck one of his dancers, but you weren’t just a dancer to him, you were the women he’s been searching for all along, he was so weak in the knees for you.

“Do you know what you’re asking for bunny, and who you are dealing with?” He hissed in pleasure, you full on dry humping him now, the friction from his clothed cock, turning you on to the max.

“I don’t care how dangerous you are, I don’t care that you are bad for me, I just w-wan you now” You whined, feeling yourself getting shamelessly close to your high, you were about to get off by dry humping him, it felt too fucking good to stop now. He halted your movements, and you let out a desperate whine, you thought he was rejecting you until he suddenly manhandled you into the couch.

“Fuck I can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist such a pretty little fucking slut like you darling, such a nasty little thing, about to make a mess all over my pants with that wet pussy” He groaned, spreading your asscheeks, before spitting directly on your pussy, and licking a strip of your pussy.

Your back arched, as you gripped the edges of the couch, the feeling of his wet long tongue was like no other, it’s been so long since you’ve had your pussy eaten, and Yunho just happened to be a fucking pro at it!

“Oh fuck, oh fuck please right there” You moaned shamelessly, he sucked and licked on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your whole body was trembling with pleasure, as you looked back at see his face buried beneath your asscheeks.

“Fuck mama, pussy taste so damn good, shit could eat your up all night” He said muffled, now tongue fucking your tight little hole, like it was his cock. You let out a pathetic scream, the band in your stomach threatening to snap any minute now, you couldn’t believe how fast he was about to make you come undone on his face.

“You gonna come on my face pretty thing, that’s right make a fucking mess on daddy’s face” He growled, sliding one of his digits inside your tight cunt. Your pussy clenched violently around his finger, you could feel this hot tingling feeling in your lower abdomen, you’ve never felt this feeling before and you knew you were about to cum so hard.

“Daddy! Oh my god I’m cumming” You whined loudly, the knot in your stomach finally coming unraveled, as you squirted your essence all over his face. Your legs were trembling, you were panting like crazy, and you felt so embarrassed squirting all over his face like that.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was going to squirt” you said weakly, you were already so fucked out, but you guys were far from being done, you needed his big cock inside your greedy pussy.

“No don’t apologize for being a good girl for daddy, that was so fucking hot” He groaned, standing up from his knees, as he started to unbuckle his pants, dropping down to his ankles. The outline of his cock in his boxers was huge, you were definitely intimidated by his size but also so fucking turned on by it.

“Gonna let me fuck this tight pussy raw baby?” He grunted, freeing himself of out of the confines of his boxers, as his dick spring free, the top flushed red and leaking precum. You looked back at him and nodded eagerly, wiggling your ass to entice him. He groaned loudly, before rubbing his tip against your wet folds.

“Baby p-please, stick it in, need your cock so badly” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to feel his thick cock, rearranging your guts. He smacked your asscheek, and you yelped at the sting of it. Finally after what seemed like eternity, you felt his mushroom tip nudging your tight hole, your little pussy struggling to accommodate his massive size.

“Oh shit! Oh my god wait, too fucking big” You whined, pushing back at his stomach for him to give you a minute. He chuckled softly in amusement, landing a harsh smack to your asscheek, as he rubbed soothing circles on the same spot.

“You can take it bunny, remember your words, you’re big girl you can take it” He cooed, pushed your face into the couch, as he started to push his length inside your fluttering walls. The stretch was intense, it felt you were being split in half, if it wasn’t for how wet your pussy was, it would have been impossible to fit.

After a couple more pushes he was fully nestled inside you, standing still to let you adjust to his size, and you could feel his throbbing cock pulsating. He let out a deep groan, trying to hold himself back, from fucking into you roughly.

“Fuuuckk, this pussy so tight and warm, shit tell me when to move baby girl” He hissed, as your pussy clenched snugly around his length. Eventually the pain started to turn into pleasure, and you were ready for him to ruin you.

“You can move now daddy” You moaned, pushing your ass against his pelvis, wanting to feel him as deep as possible. He pulled almost out of your wet pussy, until he slammed back in, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“Hnmphhhh, Ohh my god Yunho, your cock so fucking good” You moaned loudly, gripping onto the couch for dear life, as he starts to fuck into you. Yunho eyes rolled to back of his head, your pussy felt incredible around his cock, all tight and warm.

“Look at you, such a good fucking girl, taking my cock like a good little whore” He growled, setting a brutal pace, as he starts to beat your pussy in. The sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the room, and you’re pretty sure his bodyguard could hear you getting your guts rearranged.

“Yes daddy, I’m your good little whore” You screamed out, as Yunho pulled you by the hair, forcing your body to lay flushed to his chest, as he pounds relentlessly into your weeping cunt.

“That’s right all fucking mines, nobody can fucking have you, you belong to me now understood?” He spat, as he manhandled your body to a different position, somehow not sliding out of you. You were now laying on your back, face to face with him, ad he hovered on top of you.

He barely gave you time to breathe, as starting to pound into you again. Your eye rolled to back of your head, and you screamed In silence, he was fucking the shit out of you, all you could do was lay there and take it like the good whore you are.

“Yunho! S-slow down, I’m going to cum again fuck” You whined, that same tingling feeling returning, as you neared your high for the 2nd time tonight. The sight of Yunho tall frame above your small one, rocking his hips back and forth, as his silver diamond chain dangled over your face.

“Fuck baby I’m not gonna last any longer, I wanna breed this pussy, stuff you full of my babies and ruin you for anyone who tried to take what’s mines” He said, you could barely hear what he was saying, your mind was in another dimension as he fucked you into an oblivion.

Like clockwork, he hit your pressure point, that spot inside you that makes everything feel fuzzy. Your legs were shaking violently, as he slammed into your g-spot over and over, and finally you felt the band snap in your stomach snap. You came hard around his dick, squirting and creaming like crazy.

He followed shorty after, letting out a guttural groan, as he emptied out his once full balls inside your spent cunt. His big body collapsed on the side of you, the both of you panting heavily, and trying to catch each other’s breath.

You could feel his cum oozing out of your abused hole, the feeling was so uncomfortable in the worst way. He got up from the couch, disappearing into the bathroom, and coming out with a box of tissues. You laid there weak, as you watched him wipe the remnants of his cum, that oozed out on your thighs and legs.

Your heart skipped a beat at that, normally you never received aftercare, not even your ex boyfriend took the time to do this for you. You couldn’t believe a stone cold killer like Yunho, was being sweet to you like this, you were whipped.

Finally he broke the silence, grabbed you by your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“I hope you didn’t think I was playing with you baby, you really belong to me now “ He said seriously, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You smiled like an idiot, snuggling your face into his neck.

“Good because I’m not going anywhere, I’m yours” You simply said, pecking him on his cheek, he locked eyes with you, and this time it wasn’t that unreadable stone cold expression. It was replaced with something more softer, love and warmth.

You knew what you were getting yourself into falling for a man like Jeong Yunho, but you didn’t care, you were in love with a criminal with no shame.

“𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨” 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝.

“𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐲𝐞𝐭” 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐝.

The End…

A/n: Someone pass me a cigarette real quick 🚬 😩 this is so toe curling, pussy popping good!!! I been wanting to release a fic about Yunho for so long and I finally did it😛 we cheered! Ladies and gentlemen I’m afraid this is a nasty one be prepared to change your sheets🫦 not proofreading shii🫶🏽

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Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk

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kenslilove · 1 year ago

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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?!

preview. Draken swears he doesn’t only go for little sisters. But when you, Takemichi’s younger sister, walks into his shop….

ft. Ken “Draken” Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 6.5k 🤡😅

W. NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI! bimbo reader, age gap (draken is late 20’s workin at the bike shop, you’re in early 20’s in collage) fem reader, corruption, dubcon (reader is intoxicated when they consent), virgin killer draken, oral (f!receiving), cream pie, a lil after care, praise and lots of it, drakens a scumbag but in a hot way🤪🤤 he comes around though, I promise 🤭

an. Hiiii pookies <33 this is a repost from my old account, but I’m reposting it here because I’m bringing this series back to life. This fic as well as part 2 hold such a special place in my heart, and now that my inspo is back and I’m ready to add to this little story, I hope you guys can join me on the ride hehe <33 I hope you enjoy! I love Kenny 💖 reblogs, comment, and constructive feedback are always welcome 🫶

“Draken, you have a thing for little sisters.”

“I do not.”

The look on everyone’s faces begs to differ.

First, it was Emma, and although the relationship didn’t work out between the two, she was still Mikey’s little sister.

“Can’t believe I ever let you near my sister, sister fucker.” Mikey mumbles into the lip of his beer, making the rest of the boys laugh out loud.

“Wait— who’s sister is he going for now?”

Takemichi’s comment had them all silencing instantly, eyes going to him as if he just asked the stupidest question on earth. Draken tried to use Takemichi’s idiocy to his advantage, waving away the conversation with a hand.

“No one—“

“Yours, obviously Takemichi.” Mitsuya blurted, much to Draken’s distaste, who dropped his forehead against the table with a groan.

“What?!”

Draken believed it wasn’t his fault, truly it couldn’t be. After the fallout with Emma, he swore to himself that the girls he went for would strictly be disconnected from his found family. Things were going well for him, so many beautiful girls passed by his shop, he even went on a date with a handful of them.

But he seemed to forget all of them when you walked into his shop.

There you were, bright-eyed, little miniskirt, lips pulled into the cutest pout he had ever seen. He was taken back when you finally met his gaze, pretty eyes widening a bit as you gasped.

“Ah! Found the right place! You’re Draken-Kun, right?”

The honorific had his heart racing, making him internally swear at himself from getting so excited just from something so simple.

“Uh yeah, that’s me.”

“Nii-chan said he’d be here, was supposed to meet him at ‘Draken-Kun’s shop’ buuuut—“ there was that cute pout again. “I don’t see him!”

He swallowed down a lump that seemed to block all his words. Why was his throat so dry? Why were you blinking up at him so perfectly?

“Uh— yeah, this is my shop but, who’s— who’s your brother?”

“Oh! Michi! Takemichi!” Your smile got even brighter when you said his name. Blinding almost.

Draken really hated the fact that it made his cock twitch.

“Fuck.” He murmured, bringing a hand up to rub the furrow from his brows. You tilted your head in confusion, reaching out and giving one of his biceps a squeeze.

“What was that, Draken-Kun?”

You sounded so concerned, so sorry for someone you didn’t even know. Draken quickly shook you off, before the simple touch of your soft palm made his cock harder than it already was. “No, nothing, it’s nothing. He’s— he’s upstairs.”

“Thank you~!” Sweet as sugar, you basically skipped towards the staircase, a hum in your voice when you called out to Takemichi.

And Draken watched until you disappeared. He watched the sway of your hips, watched your cute little heels clack up the stairs, and he certainly watched the way the swell of your ass became visible when you reached a certain step, along with an outline of lacy panties that were meant to stay hidden.

Fuuuuuuck—

Draken left the boys earlier than usual, hands buried deep in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Takemichi’s angry face was stuck in his head, along with his bitching that only made the boys tease him harder.

“You better not fuck my sister Draken! She’s too sweet for you bro!”

“Whatever—“ Draken mumbled to himself, his breath leaving him in a puff of air due to the cold that surrounded him. He was heading back to his apartment, wanting to slip into bed and hope that the boys would get so hammered tonight they’d forget everything discussed.

When his phone started to buzz he groaned again, ready to tell Mikey no he wasn’t coming back and to fuck off. What he wasn’t expecting to see was your contact name on his screen.

He really should have just let it go to voicemail, in fact, he should delete your number period. But, he picked it up on the very last ring, bringing the phone to his ear with hesitation.

“Hello?”

“D-Draken!!” You were whining— voice a bit slurred and muffled. Was there music in the background? Draken couldn’t really tell. He held his fingers to his other ear in an attempt to hear you better as you started to ramble.

“Can’t— I can’t hear you,” Draken said, trying his best to keep the annoyance from his tone as.. wait, were you crying?

“I-I’m at a stupid party dra! A-and Michi won’t answer his phone b-but I wanna go home! T-There’s this boy here a-and he won’t leave me alone and I-I’m too drunk—“

Draken felt himself tense up at the mention of some boy.

“Slow down…” He sounded calmer now, his apartment coming into view. “Send me your address, I’ll come to get you.”

“P-Please Draken, don’t wanna be here anymore, wanna go.”

It was the way you whined so desperately, so pretty. Draken knew this was bad, knew you didn’t even try to call him first.

But you still called him. Still trusted him enough.

“I’ll get you, sweetheart.” He was swearing at himself for the pet name that left his mouth without permission, but when you made the cutest little hum on the other end of the phone he quickly forgot his worries. “Send me the address right now while you’re on the phone. Do ya know how?”

He was already in the parking garage as your location pinged on his phone. He easily spotted his bike, hopping on as you continued to blubber into the phone.

“C-come now, promise you’ll come now dra—“

“I’m coming, promise. Stay where you are.”

He hung up and sped out of the garage before his right mind could catch up.

The address was some grungy trap house. The smell of cheap liquor and sex seemed to waft from the door as piles of drunk university kids spilled free. He waited until he saw you, finally, heels in hand and bare feet stepping into the damp grass to get to him.

He bit the inside of his cheek. You looked drunk, mascara already ran down your cheeks and little sniffles left you as you approached the bike. He tried to keep his eyes off the low cut of your tank top, but it was hard when you flung yourself at him, clinging to his waist with that pretty whine he loved hearing so much.

“D-Draaaaa~!” You carried the ‘A’, pressing your damp cheeks into the leather of his jacket, along with pressing your chest into his side. He brought his hand to your back, eyes rolling as he went to pat it.

Only to feel that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Keep it together, Ken.

“Get on, c'mon you’re gonna catch a cold.” He was quick to throw his jacket over you, slipping you in front of him cause honestly, he didn’t trust you to hold on tight enough to him in your drunk state.

So he had you sitting in front of him. He instructed you to put your hands on the handle bras, sensing your hesitation as you continued to sniffle and whimper. He pressed his chest into your back, lips close to your ear.

“It’s alright, I won’t let anything happen to you. Put 'em down.” He felt the way you shivered, and he hated the way it made him smirk. When you finally planted your hands down he placed his much larger hands over yours. They completely engulfed your palms, and he hoped that the little whine you let out now was because of that.

He reeved off quickly, trying to slow himself down but unable to control himself as he sped off towards his place with you in tow.

He ended up carrying you up the stairs to his apartment. He had originally tried to work your heels back on, but you were very much against that, sending him your best pout along with a little “nuh-uh! Don’t wanna!” And since he didn’t want you stepping on anything nasty he settled for picking you up instead.

You were on his back, arms slung over his shoulder as you babbled nonsense in his ear. Something about how you drank too much tequila and ‘but how can you say no to free shots?’ Draken just shook his head, gripping one of your thighs a bit tighter as he worked his apartment door open.

“Easy.” He spoke as he placed you on the ground. You giggled when your legs wobbled, quick to grip onto Draken’s arm yet again as you finally let your heels tumble to the ground.

“Takemichi would kill you if he knew you were this drunk,” Draken stated, trying to keep the amusement from his voice as you used the wall to help yourself towards the couch. You looked back at Draken and stuck your lip out in a pout, before sticking your tongue out.

“Michi isn’t my daddy, I do what I want~!”

Draken almost choked on his spit. Did you really have to talk like that— say that in the cutest little voice? He was grateful when you started your trek to the couch again, so he could fix the bulge that started to form in his joggers.

“Oh, yea? Well, you shouldn’t, you can barely stand. And who was this guy feeding you shots?” Just the thought of some loser college boy trying to get you drunk, preying on you, made his brows twitch, knuckles tensing as he made his way to meet you on the couch.

“Ugh, just some loser. Claims he’s in a gang dra, just like you and Michi used to— but he’s no bad boy, no no he’s a creep~!”

“Yea?” Draken just chuckled coldly, fetching you a water bottle from the fridge. “Must be a real classy group of delinquents if they’re targeting girls like that—“

His voice got caught again when he finally saw you on his couch.

You had worked his jacket off you, sprawled yourself out on the cushions without a care in the world. The little tube skirt you were wearing was hiked up dangerously high, leaving little to the imagination as you turned your face away from the cushions, looking up at Draken.

And you had the audacity to giggle, “You’re couch s’comfy dra~”

one of your legs threatened to topple right off the couch, but if that happened, well it would certainly make the wimpy material hike all the way up.

Draken caught your knee before it had the chance, only making you giggle more. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, blood pumping dangerously fast to his crotch as he shot you a disappointed look.

“Be careful.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, and when you looked at him, eyes wide and glossy…

Draken had to have more willpower than this, didn’t he?

“D-Don’t be mean t’me” You were whining again, rolling over and pressing your face into the couch. Your leg slipped from his touch, and he thought maybe he’d be in the clear now.

But when you curled up, the skirt he put too much faith in hiked up, letting the swell of your ass free. Draken wanted to turn away, or at least throw a pillow at you, but he couldn’t seem to rip his eyes away from your pretty, soft skin.

You were still mumbling, something about him bossing you around. But Draken finally shook himself from the dangerous trance he was in, clicking his tongue and grabbing at your shoulder.

“Up, cmon, you’re going to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” You spoke, voice nothing bratty as you tried to slip from his grasp. Draken wasn’t having any of it, not when he was only seconds from snapping.

“Too bad. Get up. You need water and sleep.”

“Nooo~!” You looked back at him, perfect lips pouting and this cute sense of defiance in your gaze that still swam with unclarity.

Draken wasn’t sure what it was that finally made him snap. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, maybe it was the brattiness that he knew he could work outta you, maybe it was how your ass now pressed into his thighs.

But whatever it was, it didn't matter. He was pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little shocked gasp you pushed against his lips. He only pulled away when his lips began to pulse, a shaking breath puffing out against your trembling lower lip.

He kept his eyes glued to yours as his thumb swiped at the drool that lingered on your lip, another click leaving his tongue.

“Messy…” he murmured, more to himself than to you as you batted your lashes up at him, leaned into his touch as if on instinct.

Draken shoulda stopped. This would be the perfect time to back off, let you sleep off the alcohol on his couch and call Takemichi in the morning. Hell, you’re so drunk you probably wouldn’t even remember this little kiss.

But then you spoke.

“D-Dra.. y-your lips are reaaaal soft.”

“Fuck.” He swore for real this time, ignoring any sense as he pressed his lips to yours once again. It was so cute how hesitant you were, fingers trembling softly as they ran through his black ponytail. He had no problem slipping his hands beneath you, easing you up and into his lap.

“Fuck.” He mumbled it into your open mouth this time, feeling your warm little cunt pressing into his crotch. The panties you wore did little to conceal your sex, and it didn’t help that you were squirming in his lap, hips twitching into him and nails digging along his shoulders.

He had to pull back again, his palms planted firmly on your hips to keep you still. “Can’t— fuck. You can’t squirm like that baby.” He hated how desperate he already sounded, voice going down an octave and raspier than usual.

You bit the tip of your nail, face heating up along with the rest of your body as you slowly raised your gaze to meet Draken’s. “C-Can’t help it, I’ve never—“

Draken brows shot up, panic flooding his system. He did not want to hear you say you’d never kiss a guy before.

“Never sat in someone’s lap like this…” The relief washed over him, making his shoulders slump again. There was this swelling feeling in his chest, one that he didn’t exactly love, but he couldn’t stop it from coming.

It was the same feeling he got when he took Emma’s virginity.

“Oh, yea…? What else haven’t you done?” He was curious now, big hands rubbing reassuring circles into your hips. The skirt you were wearing before was useless now, bunched up at your hips and showing off the cute panties you wore. He tried not to stare as you tried to stutter out your words.

But Draken knew now, he was much weaker than he originally thought.

“I-I’ve kissed a guy! Obviously!! B-But…” There you were, pouting again. But the more Draken massaged at your hips, the more your whines started to sound like meek little mewls. “I-I just— I haven’t really done anything other than like.. touching I guess..”

He really hoped that you didn’t feel his cock twitching right under you.

Draken hummed in acknowledgement, bringing his face close to yours as soon as you looked down into your lap. “Just touching, yea? Have you ever held a dick before, sweetheart?”

“N-no!” He shouldn’t be teasing you like this, but he couldn’t help himself. His question just made you squirm again, and he enjoyed the friction just a little longer than he should have before he was gripping your hips again, giving you a more stern glance.

“I said, no squirming…” The corner of his lip twitched as you whimpered at him, eyes getting glassy all over again.

“M’sorry…” you spoke back through pouting lips, still having trouble meeting his gaze as your fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

Draken knew what he was doing was wrong, could hear the voices of his buddies taunting and teasing, claiming just how right they were about him. But being this close to you, seeing just how badly you wanted to hump against him, even if you were drunk.

How the hell was he supposed to let this opportunity go?

“Well… I don’t wanna spook you, angel. If ya haven’t done anything, I’ll just put you to bed, alright—“

“N-no!” Hook, line, and sinker.

“No?” Draken mused, his hands finally pulling you just a bit closer, his fingertips teasing over the flesh of your ass. You shook your head, clinging onto him a bit tighter.

“N-No I— I want…” your words trailed off, your own nerves getting the better of you.

Cute. It was so cute how words could get you flustered when you were already sitting in his lap, skirt pulled up and nothing but a little pair of panties keeping you away from him.

“Cmon. Use your words baby, what do you want.” He spoke to you with that same level of authority, watching the way your eyes slowly made their back up to his own.

“I-I want you to.. to teach me.”

He was smirking now, smug as ever. But it didn’t matter.

He had you right where he wanted you.

His lips were back on yours before you could continue to stutter, but this time he was lifting you up. He gripped your ass, urging your legs to cling to his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Draken placed you onto the mattress with ease, working himself between your thighs that already opened up to welcome him. He was pleased to see that when he pulled away from the kiss this time you were panting, lips a little swollen and chest heaving as you looked up at him.

Already so curious, so desperate for whatever he was willing to offer you.

“I’ll teach you, baby.” Draken was speaking into your skin, planting kisses along your cheeks, down the column of your neck. He felt your pulses with his lips, the steady beat only picking up in pace when he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “But, you have to listen, you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

He already knew your answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-Yes, I’ll be a good girl Dra…” you managed to whimper, voice slipping into a whine when his lips pushed over the flimsy strap of your tank top, dragging it down over your shoulder.

“Ken.” He laughed when you gave him this confused look. So naive, so very dumb.

But so very willing.

“Want you to call me Ken, can ya do that baby?”

When you realized what he was asking you let out a little “oh” and a nod, which pleased him to no end. His hand dragged your other strap down, leaving just a few inches left of coverage over your chest. It was the perfect place for him to pause, look you over just once more.

“Ask one more time for me baby, nice and pretty now.” This was his way of getting you to beg, and boy did you play into his hand so easily.

“P-Please Ken, please teach me, please—“

His will had broken long ago, the sweet sounds of your pleas, the tears that made your lashes clump. All of it had broken him down long before. His lips were back on your chest, one rough hand finally freeing your breasts from the confines of the little tank top you wore. He groaned as he squeezed each mound in his palms, the gasp you let put making his head feel light.

“Such pretty tits….” He murmured, his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of your pretty nipples, which quickly peddled up as he smoothed his thumb over the bud. He poked his tongue out, curiosity getting the best of him as he swiped the wet muscle over your left nipple.

“O-Oh!--” Cute. He wanted to hear that little squeak on repeat, wrapping his lips around your nipple while he continued to massage the other. Your fingers quickly clung to his black hair, running through the soft locks before pulling him flush to your skin.

“F-Feels good Ken! Mhm! So good– I– want!!” Your words tumbled off your tongue mindlessly, mewls and whimpers getting pushed out as Draken released you with a pop. He licked his lips at your swollen bud, admiring the little indents his teeth had made before your tug on his hair snapped him back to reality.

“Watch it.” He warned, squeezing your breast hard enough to make you whimper. “Lemme take my time with you, Angel.”

“B-But–” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for, brain foggy as Drken moved on from your tits, large hands travelling to the hem of your skirt. The skirt was pulled from your legs with a few simple tugs, leaving you in nothing but a pair of dainty panties.

A pair that had a wet patch just waiting to be removed.

“You’re so cute…” Draken breathed out, his hands smoothing over your tummy, big enough to almost engulf your waist. Each touch of his fingertips on your skin left a tingling sensation, skin ablaze as you whimpered at him again, hips bucking off the mattress as he cupped your cunt.

“Please Ken…” You were gripping the sheets as he fiddled with the hem of your panties. Hooking his index finger under the material only to let it snap back against your sensitive skin. You could have cried from that, reaching for him.

Only for him to easily scoop up both wrists in one hand, pinning them back above your head. Although his eyes were nothing but stern, his lips were holding back a smirk, showing just how amused he was with how needy you became so quickly.

Although you didn’t notice, how could you when your only thought was him, his hands, his everything?

“Keep your hands up here, understood?” When he got a little whine and a nod he hummed in approval, pressing a feather-light kiss to your nipple. “Gunna teach ya how to feel good, but you can’t get in my way–”

“M’sorry, sorry Ken, won’t, please–” He let you babble on about apologize, easing your thighs open a little further. Once your fingers curled into the sheets above your head again he let go of your wrists, all focus drawn back to the little wet spot.

He was shameless as he pressed his nose into it, your scent instantly making him groan, pulling you closer to his face by the hips. He went as far as to nuzzle your covered pussy, pressing a kiss to where your clit was hiding under the fabric. You were trembling under his actions, each one making you whimper and whine for more.

“Smells sweet as candy, bet ya taste like it too, don’t ya?” There was a slur in his voice as his teeth took hold of the flimsy fabric, and rather than dragging it down your thigh he tore it off with one good tug.

You could have come right there, seeing the ruined pieces of your underwear dangling from his lips, the feral look in his eyes as he was finally met with the sight of your swollen pussy, covered in your own slick and making it glisten in the dim lighting.

He used two fingers to spread your lower lips apart, pupils only blowing out larger at the sight of your desperate little hole clenching at the air.

Beckoning him.

“First, you’re gonna come on my lips.” His voice was raspy, but it was enough to catch your attention, make you look at him with glossy eyes and a nod. “Gunna use my fingers too since I gotta work this pretty pussy open.”

“Kay ken, mhm… wanna feel you.” You muttered, the term pretty pussy making you flutter around nothing yet again. He just knew praise would make your brain turn off.

He licked one long stripe up your pussy, gathering the slick there. The action already had both of your groaning, a form hand on your hip keeping you pressed into the mattress as he let his tongue toy and flick at your pulsing clit.

“Oh! Yes–!” Every flick, every suck, every slurp of his tongue had you gasping, eyes squeezing out the pleasurable tears. It was like nothing you’d ever felt but you just needed more, needed to relieve that knot that was already so tight in your belly as Draken ate your pussy like it was his last meal.

You were just so sweet, just like he knew you would be, your arousal gushing onto his chin each time he kissed your clit. He knew you were wet enough by now, but he still spat a glob of saliva over your hole before slipping a finger into you.

Your mouth hung open in a little “o” as he pumped his thick finger in and out, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip at just how hard you squeezed his single finger.

Couldn’t help but think how tight you’d be when he finally bullied his cock into you.

“You’re so tight baby… gunna use another finger.” As much as he hated pulling his lips away from your pussy, he just had to see what your face looked like when he slid a second finger into you, and it did not disappoint.

You bit your already swollen lip, whimpering and attempting to buck away had it not been for the grasp on your hip. “S’too much, too much Ken–!”

“It’s just my fingers princess, you can take it…’ He was trying too hard to hold back his smirk, cooing praise as his fingers stretched out your gummy walls, in search of that one spot he knew would…

The tip of his index finally grazed the little lump, your eyes shooting open and your back arching from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“There it is…” Draken hummed, massaging into the spot, making your body tremble. “This is your sweet spot, angel, feels so good, doesn't it?”

You nod, words lost to you as drool dribbles freely from your open mouth. It made him grin, adrenaline pumping through him as your pussy milked his fingers just like it would milk his cock… just as soon as he had a taste.

“C’mon baby girl, come f’me, yea? It’s gonna feel so good.” Draken’s words are a promise as he locks his lips back onto your clit. He’s suckling the precious bud, all the while his fingers massage your g-spot. He knows you’re overwhelmed, can tell by the way you jolt and cry.

But he needs to taste you.

You gasp as heat washes over you, the knot in your stomach snapping apart slowly. It’s the subtle graze of Draken’s teeth against your clit that sets you over, a cry of his name with a mix of slur’s spilling from your lips as you gush on his fingers.

Draken groans, you sounded so much better than he imagined coming undone. His fingers were pulled free quickly just so his lips could latch onto your cunt, lewdly slurping up your arousal even as your hips tried to desperately wiggle away.

“Fuckkkkk….” Draken groans as he finally lifts his lips from your swollen lower lips, the sight of his eyes narrowed and his chin covered in your arousal making your face heat up, embarrassment making you bring your hands over your face.

He chuckles, hovering back over you to press wet kisses along your arms. “Why are you hiding from me baby? Did so good f’me, felt good didn’t it?” His free hand petting your pussy, smearing your arousal over your skin and only further making a mess of your inner thighs.

You look at him through your fingers, slowly pulling your hands away when you catch sight of his handsome smile. You nod at him, hips bucking into his palm despite the way your clit tingles. “Mhm… felt good Ken, really good.”

“Good. Wanna feel better?” He asks, sitting up on his hunches. He grips the back of his shirt, easily pulling his shirt up and over his head, and the sight of his abs as you mewling for more. Your hands finally leave the sheets just to touch him, trembling fingertips smoothing over his abs with glossy eyes. He was so… so pretty? You had always thought so, but never acted on it, of course…

When his thumb smooths over your lip to collect the drool that leaks there you snap from your trance, his devious smirk making you whine. “You’re so cute.” He murmured, the dumb little look in your gaze only making his cock twitch harder.

So cute and so dumb, Draken was truly the luckiest man on earth tonight.

His cock was painfully hard when he finally pulled himself free, leaking a generous amount of pre that he used to slick up his length. His smirk grew when he caught you staring again, eyes wide and biting down so hard on your lower lip.

He held a hand out for you, helping you sit up a bit. He took your hand and placed your much smaller one on his cock, and the sight alone made him groan low in his throat.

Your fingers just looked so small as they wrapped around his length, your thumb rubbing along one of his veins with so much curiosity. You squeezed him and he hissed, instantly making your hand go slack around him.

“Not so tight angel.”

“M’sorry Ken…” You licked your lips, figuring out how much pressure to apply as you worked your palm up and down his shaft. Each time you almost reached the top his thick mushroom head would flush an even brighter pink, his pre dribbling from his tip and onto your fingers. Draken watches with wide eyes as you brought your hand to your lips, licking away his arousal with a pretty little sound.

Fuck.

He took hold of your hips again, lifting them so he could slide one of his pillows under your lower back. This angle had your hips sticking up a bit, your legs perched over his calves as he sat between your thighs. “Lay back” He instructed, and you didn’t pause with his instruction, laying back into his pillows while keeping your eyes glued to his cock.

“It’s gonna sting.” He warned, knowing that sting was probably an understatement as he laid his cock over your cunt, biting his lip to see that his tip almost reached your belly button.

“M’ready.” and you were, you wanted to be, your curiosity was getting the better of you, feeling his length rub over your cunt to get more slicked up, each time his tip caught your clit made you more impatient, reaching for his free hand and squeezing it tightly.

Draken positioned himself at your opening, greedy little hole sucking in his tip with minimal effort. It’s when the girth hit that you finally gasped, your rings of muscles attempting to make way for Draken’s cock. He shushed you with gentle coos squeezing your hand back and pressing warm kisses along your tear-stained face.

“Relax for me, little love…” He murmured against your skin, two fingers rubbing away at your clit. Draken was so tense and he held himself back, every muscle in his body rippling as he bullied his cock into your warm gummy walls.

“I-I–” You were stammering, chest shaking as you sucked in a breath. He had to be almost all the way in, right? When you saw only half of his cock had been pushed in you cried out a little, head shaking.

“S’not, not gonna fit~!” You sobbed, eyes watery as your legs trembled around him. He pressed a kiss to your lips this time, his finger never ceasing the slow circles on your bud to help break you open for him.

“It’ll fit sweetheart, promise, and it’s gonna feel so good… need ya to relax, can ya do that.” He looked at you,, expectantly, and who were you to say no? Not that you wanted to, considering your pussy was still milking away at what fit. You nodded, giving his hand another squeeze as reassurance.

Draken sucked in a breath of his own, and with one good jerk of his hips, his cock bullied itself all the way in, knocking up against your cervix and making you cry out for him. His fingers pinched your clit, the squeeze of your walls making his eyes roll back.

“Fuck– Jesus Christ, that’s it baby, my fucking god, you feel so good.” His own grunts drowned out your whines, which his delight soon turned to little moans as he kept working at your clit, your pussy holding him snuggly and almost refusing to let up.

It was the subtle bulge on your tummy, the outline of his cock sitting between your plush walls that really made him snap. He started thrusting, hips creating a steady pace that had his balls tapping up against your ass with each thrust. Your lips hung open in a silent cry, each pull and push of his hips making your walls squeeze even tighter. You were already too dumbed out to realize that Draken had placed the pillows beneath you because each time he was flush against you his cock head sat snuggly against your sweet spot, making your vision blur with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby, fuck. Got such a tight cunt.” He growled out through clenched teeth, the ring of arousal that already formed at the base of his cock making his own mouth water. You squeezed him like a vice, somehow tightening up even more each time he praised you, each time his fingers flicked your clit. Draken usually held pride at the fact that he could last in bed, holding out for the sake of his lovers.

But you? He just had to fill you up quick, had to see the dumb little look in your eyes when he pumped you full of cum.

Hit thrusts started to shake your whole body, breasts bouncing each time his hips smacked into your ass. His lips captured yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue easily overpowering yours as your teeth clashed and drool fell down your chin. Your nails found purchase on his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped moons that had him groaning into your mouth.

“Milkin my cock like a good little girl, such a good girl.” He noticed your eyes rolling back, your body trembles ceasing only for a few moments as your high washes over you unexpectedly. Your vision went white when you came this time, the cry of his name making him hiss.

It was almost painful, the grip your pussy had on his cock as you gushed around him. The mess was beautiful, soaking your inner thighs and his pelvis, making a squelching sound each time he continued to pump into you.

“Fuckin came all over my cock?” he knew your answer but wanted to hear your sob out a pathetic little “yes” as he braces his arms on either side of your head. He knew better than this, knew that fucking into you this roughly, this sloppily could scare you off.

But your pussy was asking for it, leaving his cock drenched as he continued to knock up against your cervix, ground his hips so his dick massaged your g-spot. It didn’t take long for him to finish, his dick pulsing before spilling load after hot load into your walls.

You shivered at the feeling, body twitching and legs slowly loosening around him as his thrusts started to slow down. A bead of sweat fell from his brow and onto your face, making you whimper softly.

Draken was in a daze as he watched his cock slowly slip in and out of you. By the time he was all the way out, his length was covered in a shiny layer of arousal, milky and glistening. He sighed, a little flutter going off in his chest as your battered pussy clenched at nothing, pushing out a bead of his cum.

“K-Ken~” he knew he shouldn’t have pushed it back in with a finger, knew that was irresponsible and greedy of him, but the action was done before he could really think it over, his lips smoothing over yours to sooth your cries.

“M’right here babygirl. Did so good for me, m’so proud of you.” He rolled to his side, letting you cling and tremble against him as you came back down to earth. He had no problem petting your sweat-slicked hair, shushing you with little kisses. “You’re okay, such a good girl.”

If it meant you’d come back to him. And he was certain after this, you’d be crawling at his feet.

He didn’t bother leaving you, you were clinging onto him too tightly. So instead he just scooped you up, brought you to the bathroom. He was so gentle when he placed you on the toilet, and even though you were fussing about going in front of him, he was adamant about it as he washed his face.

“I can’t pee in front of you, Ken!”

“I’m not even paying attention, you need to try, it’s good for you, so you don’t get any infections.”

“What do you mean, an infection?!” He chuckled, of course, you knew nothing about that.

Once he had you calm again, face and legs clean from a washcloth he helped you slip into one of his old sweaters and a pair of boxers. You were basically sleepwalking back to his bed, mumbling something incoherent as you cuddled into his pillow.

“The bed’s all yours…” He spoke with a smirk, pressing a little kiss to your temple as he pulled the covers up to your shoulders. You were out in seconds, and Draken took your precious little snores as his cue to get up and stretch a bit, check his phone and grab water for you in case you woke up with a hangover.

It was 4 am, but what made his brows raise was the number of messages in the group chat. He clicked on it, ready for a good laugh. But instead, his stomach dropped.

Takemichi: Draken! Why is my sister at your place?!

Mitsuya: No fucking way…

Baji: Draken, you dog. 🐶

Chifuyu: How do you know she’s there?

Takemichi: I have her location! I was supposed to pick her up at some party but it says she is at Drakens !!

Takemichi: Draken I’ll beat your ass–

Baji: I’ll do it for ya buddy. 💪🏼

Mitsuya: ur done for dude

Mikey: dirty dirty kenchin ///:

Chifuyu: 💀💀

Kazutora: man strikes again 🫣

Pa-Chin: literally a sister fucker dawg

Mitsuya: ur never seeing my sisters again 🫡

Takemichi: they’re not fucking! DRAKEN YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING HER–

He was never gonna hear the end of it.

Property of Kenslilove ™️ do not copy, repost or bring onto any other platform!!

Member of: @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

#tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr fanfic #tr fanfiction #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #ken ryuuguji #tr draken #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji smut #draken smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #tokyo rev x you #tr smut

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tojisun · 1 year ago

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!! hurt and comfort; simon’s pov (re: bimbo!reader); mentioned johnny; dark simon but only if u squint very hard // work is a continuation of this one ^v^ // bimbo!reader mlist

divider by @/plutism <33

simon noticed how quiet you’ve gotten, demure smiles and puffed out laughs never breaching past the first trickles of giggles. you seemed distracted, eyes glazing over and your fingers pausing from where they were playing with the loose threading of your sweater.

well, technically it was his, but you’ve long stolen it from his bunk and simon truly would rather cut off his arms than ask it back from you.

simon waits, mulling over how to approach you, how to talk to you when you're obviously worried about something, but then you take the first step.

“simmy, why’re you with me…?”

the hesitation in your voice makes him ache, his heart wrenching itself from the cages of his ribs, threatening to smother him with his grief. he parts his lips open, a question on the tip of his tongue — "who made you doubt my love?" — but he holds himself back, choosing instead to take your hand in his.

you look up at the first touch of his fingers along the back of your palm, the pads of his fingers gliding softly, tentatively, before reaching to tangle them with yours. simon's breath hitches at the weak smile that tugs up at your lips, a wet sheen lining the corners of your eyes.

"oh, petal," simon murmurs, pulling your hand up to his lips so he can press a kiss along the ridges of your knuckles. he earns a wet giggle as you shoot him a shy look, surreptitiously holding back your tears, and simon briefly wonders if you can feel your nose twitching because of your aborted sniffles.

"i'm with you 'cause i love you."

he shifts when he says this, giving himself more room to use his other hand — greedily reaching forward to cup your cheek, thumbing the skin just underneath your eye.

"you understand?"

it is a gentle prodding, one that he hopes was able to hide his own hesitance because if you are doubting his love, if you are questioning why he is with you, then-

then.

does that mean he isn't showing it enough?

simon breathes in sharply, his own world caving in, and it is only the hold he has on you that keeps him tethered. his mind runs on overdrive, the what-if's a catalyst to his unstoppable spiral: what does he need to change? how else can he show you his affections? how else can he reassure you? what can chase away your doubts?

simon's fear grows, threatening to creep up from the base of his throat and to spill into the space between you two, but even so, he forces himself to stay steady. to hold onto you just as gently.

he can process this later on his own — confide in mactavish if he needs to — but right now, in this moment, simon needs to comfort you.

to show you that his promises — "yeah, sweetheart. you and me, together forever." — are true. that he will fulfill them.

that-

"yeah," you reply, voice less wobbly but not any less unsure. "i understand and trust you, simmy, i do! it's just that they..."

simon's gait changes, his trained ears picking apart your mumbled words.

'they.'

someone did this. someone had tainted simon's love for you; made you doubt his intentions. worse, someone made you doubt yourself.

"shh," simon coos, pulling away just a bit before finally picking you up from your spot beside him and dropping you gently on his lap.

your arms loosely curl over his shoulders, hips swaying as you make yourself comfortable on top of him. simon's hands find purchase on your ass, not really doing anything salacious, especially not with this atmosphere, but only holding on to ensure that you don't wiggle yourself to the floor on accident.

you're watching him with big doe eyes, looking all parts his princess even when sadness continues to reverberate from you. simon presses forward to rub his nose against your own, startling a squeak from you — a distraction before his careful questioning.

"tell me everythin' from the start, petal," simon whispers. "let me help you, yeah?"

"okay," you sniffle, nodding softly.

and you do: you tell him about noah thompson, the frat boy who couldn't take "no" for an answer and insisted on bothering you even when you told him that you were taken. that you were spoken for. you told him about noah who insisted that the perfect match for you was someone you could be with everyday — "he taunted me, simmy. asked why you're never around." — and, especially, someone younger. you told him about noah who, in his frustration at your continuous rejection, began to steer hatred your way; calling you "dumb" and "stupid" and "easy."

the last one was said in a hiccupped cry and simon was quick to wrap you up in his embrace, tucking you underneath his chin and murmuring promises and reassurances because you are not dumb nor stupid nor fucking easy.

gods. you are such a perfect girl, the sweetest of them all. the kindest. the loveliest.

and noah knows. that is why, shrouded in his jealousy after seeing the token of his affection be so protective of her lover, he said those things to you. but simon doesn't say that. he doesn't craft anything that could make it look like he's making an excuse for noah's disgusting attitude. so instead, he remains quiet as you pick up your words again.

because, finally, simon is presented with the root of your sadness: noah telling you that simon could only ever be with you for your body.

"i told him you couldn't be because if you're only with me for my body then, simmy, you would've left a long time ago! you wouldn't spoil me and mitty," simon almost coos at the new nickname you gave mittens, "and you wouldn't introduce me to your friends! you wouldn't take me out to see the penguins or go to the butterfly gardens with me. and that's just some of the stuff i remember because you do so much for me but he won't listen!"

simon isn't shocked by the sob that ripples from your lungs as you press your face on the crook of his neck, crying out in your frustration. simon's own lips wobble, his previous self-doubt now crushed at having heard you protect him with such ferocity. at having believed in him with such confidence.

he rubs your back with his palms, unwavering in the flow of his praises and comfort. he presses a kiss on the top of your head, then your temple, before planting multiple along your damp face. you try dancing away from his lips with another wet huff before finally collapsing in his arms in your exhaustion.

"i'm sorry for askin', simmy," you mumble. "i know you love me but-"

"s'all right, petal. y've got nothin' to say sorry for," simon replies, tightening his arms around you. "i'm glad that you came to me and asked. i promised you, didn't i? that we'll take things together, as a team?"

"mhmm," you say with a soft nod. "as a team."

"that's right. you and me: a team."

you crash on his lap and simon basks in the quiet seconds before carrying you to the bedroom. he tucks you underneath the sheets, making a mental note that he has to come back and at least wipe your makeup off and, if he takes a while, then wake you up just enough that you can wash your face.

but for now, he has things to do.

fishing his phone out, simon shoots a message to johnny: "find me something on noah thompson."

"how much?" johnny writes back.

"enough that he won't bother petal anymore," simon replies.

a minute rolls by when johnny messages him again, "we've got something." then, "will she know?"

simon hums to himself. "no," he writes back.

johnny doesn't send in any more replies, but simon understands. no more needs to be said, anyway. not when it's about you.

tagging: @ghostsbimbo @kenz-ee @yannauauau @yaebaal @ivymarquis @liwooa @loonalockley @kariiiel @hawsx3 @durkakakayata @littlecellist

#suns.f #bimbo!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #female reader #suns

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cyberjam · 2 years ago

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ATSV HEADCANON: the spiders as yanderes . . . ☆

warnings - usual yandere themes, use of (bug) pet names like ladybug, no use of y/n or reader, stalking, manipulation, paranoia, a hint of kidnapping, a suggestion of stockholm syndrome, not proof read etc...

word count - 814

i was sleep-deprived while writing this request, so i apologize for any errors or mistakes, enjoy :)

main masterlist <33

MILES - the delusional yandere.

Miles would be so deeply in-love with you that there wasn't much you could possibly do to get him away from you. You could kick and scream at the top of your lungs and he'd just laugh to himself thinking you wanted to play fight. He would go to the ends of the earth for you and he assumes you would do the same for him as well. You could tell him how much you hated his guts and he'd simply take it as you being a bit cranky and in need of a nap. There wasn't a single thing in this world that could make him think you hated him, and once you found out he was Spider-man, that tiny bit of assurance that you were safe was completely washed away and you no-longer felt secure in the city that was supposedly protected.

"you're shaking, bug..don't worry your friendly neighborhood spider-man is here."

GWEN - the overprotective yandere.

You were just a sweet quiet kid. You sat in the back of the class, constantly in your own world. You didn't disturb anyone, always got your work done, and simply just tried to make yourself invisible to the best of your abilities. But It didn't take long for gwen to take notice of you. (you did share multiple classes together..) gwen took pity on you for some time, you were so quiet and innocent...so weak. How could someone like you survive in this world without her? It didn't take long for gwen to take on an aggressively protective role over you. She just knew deep down in her heart that people were gonna walk all over you and she had to be the one to stop them before they reached you. You don't need to be involved with the filth of the world, you need to be with her. So, once she takes you please don't be mad, she only wants what's best for you.

"i finally got you in my arms, ladybug..shh, don't worry i'm not doing this to hurt you, i just wanna protect you."

PAVITR - the clingy yandere.

Pavitr becomes so emotionally attached to you that he truly believes a second without you by his side would shatter him completely. It was rough for him in the beginning, not being able to hold you, smother you in kisses, and talk your ear off about his endless amounts of love for you. But once you two became well acquainted enough to his liking, he won't hold back at all. Pavitr will always be able to slip in his obsession with you in any conversation you two have, always going a bit overboard when he mentions how the reason he's able to live and be the best version of himself is because of your very existence. He gets overwhelmed when you're not close by, it worries him when he doesn't know what you're doing 24/7. What if you're talking to someone else? Laughing at someone else's joke? Surely whoever you're talking to isn't as amazing as Pavitr and If you can't see that he'll just have to show you.

"being away from you causes too much pain, jalebi...we were meant to be one."

HOBIE - the manipulative yandere.

Hobie will make you feel like you can't live without him. That you need him for absolutely everything, wether it be running to the store, picking out an outfit for the day, or even eating food on your own. He will break you emotionally until you're fully dependent on him and feel absolutely useless. He wants you to ask him for everything, he wants to hear the sweet sound of your voice calling his name for help, He needs to hear you say that you need him. Because you do, don't you?

" I don' know why you continue to fight my affection, darling. I'm the only one who's gonna love you the way you need to be loved. Why don't you get that? "

MIGUEL - the possessive yandere.

Miguel wants to be wanted by you. He wants you to be so dependent on him that the only words that ever slip past your lips are silent pleas for his help. He wants you to cling to him and whine at the absence of his presence. He wants you to be fully dependent on him. Any ounce of freedom you used to have before you met him is completely stripped away. Whenever he feels as if you're being independent or going about your day without acknowledging him, he gets extremely upset. You are his and his only so he will not hesitate to remove family and friends from your life if he has to, because in reality you don't really need anyone but him, right?

"tsk. this is why you should always come to me for help, it's what i'm here for, baby."

maybe i'll make a more descriptive one in the future, who knows...until then, send me some requests :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #spiderman atsv imagines #atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #miles morales x reader #gwen x reader #miguel o hara x reader #across the spiderverse headcanons #across the spider verse x reader #pavitr x reader

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chronically-ghosted · 11 months ago

Text

iron and charcoal

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without – Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come. OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!

*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*

🤍Masterlist 🤍Pero Tovar Masterlist

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits.

Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang.

He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle.

And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on.

Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –

Her.

He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.

He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights.

His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will.

It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor.

Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.

So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him.

What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down.

“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”

“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.

“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”

The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window.

“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”

He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.”

The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world.

All in the time in the world – for what?

To fail? Again?

He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell.

Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:

“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?”

Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –

“It’s unlocked, Pero.”

His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men.

And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again.

But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet.

Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable.

“Yes?”

A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.

But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare.

“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”

Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again.

“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.”

He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword.

There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.

“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm.

He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.”

You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.”

All the longer without you.

“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.”

You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.

“He finds them all beautiful.”

Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too.

This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight.

But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.

“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with.

It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?

“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”

He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.

“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”

The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand.

“You watched me dance?”

“All guardsmen were required to –,”

You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.”

Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm.

Sana, sana.

“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”

“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”

You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?

“Not even to . . . say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”

He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?”

There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.”

Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way?

“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.

“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.”

The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.

He bows to you.

“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”

The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.

He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart.

He gets to the door and pauses.

If you have nothing else to say . . .

Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.

Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–

Nothing comes through, but one single word.

“Don’t.”

The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.

“What did you say?”

A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar.

Fuck it.

He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.

“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.”

The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth.

He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel.

Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.

“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?”

“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”

Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?

You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last.

“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape.

"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."

That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you.

You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.

He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob.

“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.”

“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.

“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under.

“Pero, I –,”

“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.”

For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his.

The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.

There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar.

All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe.

“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.

A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.

"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on."

You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.

"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”

He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him.

“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised.

“Unless you don’t want –,”

The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places.

He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword.

A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress.

Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.

Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed.

You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him.

His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh.

Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor.

“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.”

He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both.

“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips.

This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.

Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils.

That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”

“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.

The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.

“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”

He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”

His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm.

“Oh, oh, Pero—,”

With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand.

“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.”

The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body.

��Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing.

“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress.

“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.

With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace.

He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs.

But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.

When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear.

“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth.

Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough.

With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly.

“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving.

His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.

“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”

His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire.

Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets.

With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again.

“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”

The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.

Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care.

Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter.

The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.

Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.”

You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest.

“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.”

“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.”

You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.”

His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more.

“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss.

“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”

At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.”

You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.”

“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.”

You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.

“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.”

Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble.

“Tell me, Tovar!”

He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs.

“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”

He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides.

“Have you had your fun yet?”

“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.

“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.

“You are everything to me.”

You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.

“You’re so very lucky I love you too.”

His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.

“I know, ranita, I know.”

He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips.

His heart lurches with the wanting of you.

There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest.

He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks.

Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted.

He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it.

You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known.

The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart.

I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you.

He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.

El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.

Translations:

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."

el orgullo - pride

dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation

amorcita - little love, romantic connotation

Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"

Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow

puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it

Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.

ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)

the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!

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