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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Evening Star (1/2)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, kidnaping, sexual tension, obsession, incest, toxic relation ]

[ description: When the god of the underworld comes out of his caves once a year to admire his beloved constellation, he accidentally meets his niece, whom he has never seen before. Moved by sudden lust and desire, he kidnaps her, despite her despair and his brother's anger. Angst, sexual tension, dark and obsessive Aemond. ]

Part 2: The Moonlight Ray

The Evening Star & The Moonlight Ray

Persephone Moodboard

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

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He never understood his brother, hurling his lightning bolts from the heavens at defenceless people in a rage − he did not understand his volatility, he did not understand his irrepressible desire, his unlimited emotionality.

He did not understand how he could desire and feel so many things at once, having his sister-wife haunt and take other goddesses, nymphs, or even human women, begetting bastards on earth and in the heavens.

He did not understand him, for he was emptiness, abyss, coldness, the opposite of his impulsiveness, his eternal volatility − he was like stone, like white marble, soul as well as body.

The only desire he had ever known in his life was the desire for power, and for this his brother deprived him of one eye before casting him into a dark abyss where not even the light of the stars could reach.

Although he was a god, his brother's blow could not be undone and he was forever disfigured, the dark hole in his face filled with a precious stone, sapphire, shining with a disturbing blue light.

Accustomed to the darkness of Hades, he could no longer bear the intense light of the sun and rarely appeared on Olympus itself; he would wander through his dark caverns in his long, black matted robe and gaze at the river Styx, at its pale light and the contorted terrified faces of the souls who swam in it.

When word reached him that his brother had mated with their other sister, the goddess of the field crops, and that she had bore him a daughter, he was neither surprised nor interested − he did not come to celebrate her birth on Olympus or congratulate his brother.

His brother had often suggested to him that he should take a wife, that he should not be alone in the darkness of the underworld.

He, however, felt no such need.

Even his sister, known as the Goddess of Love and Desire, was unable to seduce him.

She touched his naked body with her soft lips and hands, but he felt nothing but embarrassment.

He left Hades only once a year, when his favourite constellation emerged in the sky − he would then stroll through the old, dense forest looking up at the stars, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the rustle of the leaves.

When this time of year came, when he left his caves and looked up, he felt contentment at the sight of the twinkling dots in the sky, the pleasant night breeze enveloping his cold body.

He strolled slowly and aimlessly, looking upwards, all around him only the quiet rustling of his robes and the sound of dew-wet grass lingering beneath his feet.

He froze as he heard someone's footsteps break a twig not far from him – he knew he was not alone and he was furious.

He thought that whoever this mortal was, he would flow right down his river of the dead.

He tilted his head to the side and saw a pale figure illuminated only by shy starlight, her body pressed against the trunk of a tree as if she wanted to take refuge in it, her face expressing helpless anxiety.

Her eyes were big, warm and as dark as his robe, her hair long, partly loose, partly decorated with rich braids encircling her head, small blue flowers woven into her hair.

Her full, moist, fleshy lips were parted slightly in an accelerated breath, her breasts which he could see perfectly through the thin, transparent material of her robe were rising and falling restlessly, her skin glistening like moonlight.

He stared at her, unable to move or make a sound, unsure if he had ever seen a being so infinitely beautiful in his life, luminous as the stars above his head.

He swallowed loudly when he saw that she had taken a step back to retreat, to escape.

"Is it the beautiful Evening Star herself who has left the sky to enchant me with her company?" He asked lowly, impassively, his voice though assured and direct trembled, betraying his desperation.

She stopped in mid-motion and looked at him again, surprised and embarrassed at the same time by his words − it seemed to him that he saw perfectly well how her cheeks flushed, giving her skin a rose tint.

She pressed her lips together watching him carefully, lifting her chin slightly as if probing him closely from afar, assessing whether he was a threat to her, whether he would hurt her.

He was unable to take his eyes off her.

"I will tell you who I am only if you tell me who you are." She whispered in a trembling, gentle tone.

A smirk appeared on his face at the thought that maybe she was a nymph who had ventured too far from her friends, and that she was at his mercy now.

He hummed under his breath and moved ahead, putting his hands behind his back, looking under his feet, moving unhurriedly towards her.

"They call me many names." He said with mischievous amusement, throwing her a piercing, disturbing look from which she shuddered all over, taking a step back again.

"My river, though water is a life-giving gift, brings death." He whispered once he was a few steps away from her, wanting her to solve the riddle herself, to exert herself.

She swallowed loudly, her eyes widening suddenly, as if she had just realised something.

"− uncle −" She whispered, and he froze, stopping in mid-step; for the first time in the thousands of years he had walked the world he felt his own heart pounding hard.

He looked at her in disbelief, and it was only at close that he saw that she did indeed have something of his brother and sister in her, though it was her she resembled more − he felt himself grow even paler than usual, his hands clenched into fists behind his back.

She, however, seemed not frightened about who he was, her face took on an expression full of contentment and warmth. She moved closer to him and now it was he who took a step back feeling a strange heat in his lower abdomen, his manhood throbbed suddenly as he caught a glimpse of the outline of her soft breasts.

"My mother told me a lot about you. About the sun hurting your eye." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly seeing that she was staring at his scar, at the stone placed where his eye once was.

He thought he was like Hephaestus, hideous, disfigured, and that she would never desire him.

He felt his jaw clench tightly, his body tense, hard as granite when she tentatively placed her soft hand on his shoulder, he felt the warmth of her flesh through the thin material of his robe.

He didn't know what was happening to his body, he felt tickling and tension in his lower abdomen, a strenuous need for some kind of relief that he didn't understand.

"Stay with me to watch the sunrise. Don't sink into darkness yet." She whispered as if in worry − he couldn't tear his eyes from her face, from her warm gaze.

He was unable to comprehend how any living being could be so beautiful.

"No." He said coldly, and then grasped her in his arms, his hands clenching on her soft, hot flesh like steel tongs.

For a moment she couldn't make a sound, terrified and shocked − she didn't scream when he threw her over his shoulder and headed towards his underworld, cold, dark, damp.

It was only when she realised what he was doing that she began to struggle and cry, calling loudly for help from her mother and father, begging him not to do it, to let her go, that she would not tell anyone about it.

He, however, decided to follow his brother's advice and take a wife.

The marriage required the oaths from both of them, but this did not prevent him from acknowledging her as his wife even though she refused to speak the words.

Even though he had given her his most beautiful chamber, on whose ceiling precious minerals shimmered like stars, in which streams of water hummed, in which she could lie on a great, soft bed, she did not want to see him.

He was not his brother.

He had no intention of taking her against her will.

It was enough for him that he could look at her every day.

Only him.

He bestowed new gifts on her every day, but she still cried.

He gave her a beautiful long gown of dark, translucent material embroidered with stones in which the warm light of the sun was encased after she said she longed to see it, but she didn't even look at it.

The blue flowers in her hair withered as did the warmth in her eyes − she was slowly becoming as pale as he was and was constantly shivering from the cold.

She would not let him embrace or touch her; she covered herself with the thick furs he had given her and turned away from him.

Occasionally something would awaken in her − she would then run up to him when he visited her and beg him to let her leave to see her mother.

"I promise you that I will come back and that I will be your wife. Please, let me see the sunshine and the fresh grass one last time." She begged, touching tenderly his cold cheek with her fingers, almost as if she loved him, and he almost gave in to her every time.

"I can't, Persephone." He replied coolly, feeling some kind of pain seeing the despair on her face, hearing her helpless sobbs again, her small hands clenched on his robe, her cheek hugged to his chest.

"My name is Kora." She mumbled with difficulty, as if enraged. He hummed at her words, lifting slowly his large, cold hand, taking unruly strands of her hair from her face, all red from crying.

"Persephone, this name, is my gift to you. For my sweet wife." He whispered, and she trembled, struggling to breathe, shaking all over.

"− please −" She babbled as he embraced her uncertainly and stroked her hair, relishing its soft texture, letting her draw on this substitute of comfort.

He walked with her through the interiors of Hades, wanting to show her that besides death, there was also beauty in the underworld − underground streams and lakes with crystal clear water, his three-headed, beloved Cerberus, who in his presence turned from a monstrous beast into a gentle, docile animal.

Sometimes it seemed to him that a smile adorned her face for a moment, but then the sadness came over her again − she shuddered with cold and fear hearing the wailing of souls floating in the Styx, she glanced nervously in that direction, swallowing loudly.

"Are they suffering a lot? Can they be helped?" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, walking beside her with his arms folded behind his back.

"They are paying for what they have done in their lifetime. Their merits and transgressions have been weighed by Temida, who has issued a judgment on them. There is nothing I can do." He admitted with a glance at her, and she lowered her gaze, looking down at her hands.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked her at last, and she lifted her large, frightened eyes to him, her lips parted but no sound came from her throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling a sting in his chest.

He asked her if she was afraid of him after he had kidnapped her and held her against her will.

What did he expect?

The wrath of his brother and sister was quickly getting to him − her mother distraught at her disappearance had fallen into a state of utter agony, people were being starved to death by the land's failure to yield crops, there were more souls flowing in the Styx than he had ever seen in his centuries-long life.

He felt a kind of satisfaction when his brother descended into the underworld for the first time since time immemorial; he hated to think about dying and passing, and could not grasp the meaning of such a short life, knowing only the meaning of infinity himself.

He came out to meet him sitting proudly on his black marble throne, thousands of skulls at his feet.

For the first time he looked down on his brother, a gigantic cave all around them, Styx surrounding them on all sides except a small bridge.

"Brother. I warn you for the last time. If you don't give me my daughter..."

"Then what? I should take a wife at last – those are your words, aren't they?" He asked with a sneer, sitting stretched out comfortably in his seat.

"I want to see her." He demanded, and his lips tightened at his words. "Or I'll take her away from you myself and you'll never see her again."

"I poured water from my river into the honey she drank. Like any soul who has already bound herself to the underworld, she will not leave Hades without my permission." He said calmly, and his brother's face flushed red, his angry low voice echoing around him so that the ground shook around them.

"I WANT TO SEE HER!"

He hummed under his breath and nodded to his servant to bring her in.

His wife came out of her chamber a moment later − when she saw her father she immediately beamed, ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

He looked at them coolly, feeling his heart pounding fast, his stomach twisting with rage.

"My sweet daughter. Did he hurt you?" He asked as if the welfare of any woman mattered to him, as if he hadn't raped an endless number of innocent girls, forgetting them quickly because they were dying in what seemed to him to be just the blink of an eye.

He swallowed loudly when his Persephone shook her head, tightening her lips, lowering her head.

"He's good to me." She whispered and he felt a squeeze in his heart, a pain he had never known before.

His brother looked at him accusingly, trying to contain his aggressive, abrupt nature.

"People are suffering hunger because of you. Her mother has gone mad with despair, the flowers are not blooming, the grains are not yielding. Let them be together at least a few months of the year and I will recognise your marriage in the eyes of Olympus." He suggested, and he furrowed his brow.

"No." He hissed coldly, his gaze icy, piercing, furious, his hand clenched into a fist. "She is my wife. A wife's place is with her husband."

His brother moved in fury, wanting to lash out at him, the ground shook around them again, but his daughter's hand stopped him.

"Let us speak alone, father." She said softly; his brother backed away, panting heavily, his jaw clenched tight.

He hummed under his breath when he saw his wife move towards him, climbing the black, cold stone steps to finally stand before him − his brother snorted and turned, walking away, furious.

He looked up at his Persephone massaging his chin, delighted to see the outline of her body shapes beneath her thin white robe.

He shuddered and swallowed loudly, shocked as she sat on his lap, his manhood throbbed suddenly feeling her body so close, her fresh scent like a cool morning breeze.

"− husband −" She whispered with a soft click of her pink tongue, her hips innocently rubbing against his hardness, his body shivered at the sound of that word.

She had never called him that before.

She touched his cheek with her soft fingertips so gently, tenderly, slow strokes of her hips teasing him so innocently, that he parted his lips, breathing with increasing difficulty, his palms tightening on his cold stone armrests.

He could feel his length pulsing and swelling with every motion she made, he didn't understand what was happening to him.

He didn't stop her when she reached up to tie of his matte black robe, he drew in a loud breath and closed his eyelids when her delicate hand tentatively touched what was underneath.

"I am yours. I will give myself to you of my own free will." She whispered in a sweet, warm, trembling voice, her gaze misty, her lips full, swollen, red from emotion.

A quiet, low groan broke from his throat as he felt her hand direct the fat head of his manhood between her thighs with a gentle movement, he could see through the translucent material as she slowly began to sink him into her body.

He tilted his head back with quiet moan, licking his lower lip, feeling her hot, fleshy insides squeeze him wonderfully from all sides − she was surprisingly moist and warm, her core throbbing with arousal.

He felt her put her hands on his shoulders, lowering herself onto him with a loud, sweet gasp, her plump lips parted wide.

His hands involuntarily gripped her hips as she began to move, rising and falling against his length so painfully slowly that he had to close his eyelids shut, panting louder and louder along with her.

"– gods –" He exhaled with difficulty as she accelerated, the loud, sticky slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through the dark cavern, his manhood throbbing and twitching inside her, all hard and swollen with pleasure.

Involuntarily, his cold fingers clenched on the hot skin of her hips − he rooted his manhood into her tight, moist insides with his desperate, pathetic thrusts, her sticky moisture dripping down her thighs.

"– for our marriage to be valid you must fill me with yourself, my husband –" She whispered, pressing her forehead against his, droplets of sweat glistening on her body like little diamonds, her sweet moans of pleasure, her slick walls sucking him inside made him loose his temper.

He gasped weakly at her words, he had never felt a woman's insides before, had never desired anyone before her.

He felt like his manhood was going to explode with desire and lust, his thrusts became faster and more brutal, her soft breasts bouncing in front of his face − he lifted his hand and squeezed it tentatively, a soft mewl of delight erupted from her throat.

"– Persephone –" He breathed out pleadingly, imploringly, and then she kissed him, her hot, swollen, moist lips clinging to his, cold, dead, the tips of their tongues licking each other.

"– please –" She mewled although he didn't know what she was actually asking him, and then he heard her cry loudly, as if surprised, her hot insides clenching against him greedily, her tongue deep in his throat.

He felt with each thrust of his hips that he was getting closer and closer to something he'd never experienced before in his life.

Fulfilment.

The wave of heat and pleasure, his seed that spilled inside her surprised him so much that his voice stuck in his throat, and then again and again a low, helpless groan broke from his mouth − both of them were panting as they looked at each other with their lips open wide, his hands clenched painfully tight on her hips.

"I'm yours." She whispered softly, sweetly − he was looking at her feeling only peace, only love. "I am only yours, so please, let me see her."

He felt the heat in his heart replaced by coldness, his brow furrowed in a sense of anger, of pain, of betrayal.

"No." He hissed, wanting to lift her up, but she shook her head, cupping his face in her warm, soft hands.

"I will never truly be your wife if you won't trust me. If I don't come back to you of my own free will." She said helplessly, pain, fear and suffering in her eyes again, his lips tightened into a thin line at her words.

"Nine months with my mother so I can enjoy the sun, and then three here, just with you, every night, every day, I swear." She whispered tenderly pressing her face against his cheek, her scent overpowering and stupefying him, her warm insides still pleasantly enveloping his already soft manhood.

He swallowed loudly at her words, his palms digging firmly into the soft skin of her thighs.

"You're lying. You will never come back to me." He hissed and groaned low when he felt her hips begin to move up and down again with a loud click of her wetness and his spend, his manhood pulsed involuntarily with pleasure, betraying him.

"I'll come back. I promise I'll come back."

As much as she wanted him to lead her away, he didn't want to watch her disappear beyond the borders of Hades never to return.

He didn't want to watch her run merrily towards the light, thanking the gods for his weakness and naivety, for how every woman in history had been able to exploit a man's desires.

He did not want her to see his expression, his suffering and all the other feelings he did not want to feel.

The day after she left, he went to her chamber and lay in her bedding, sinking his nose into her scent.

He found, with regret and pain, that with each passing month her scent grew fainter and fainter, her silhouette in his mind becoming more and more blurred, as if he had never really met her.

He touched himself thinking about her, experiencing both wonderful and painful fulfilment with the knowledge that he would never feel her again.

He preferred to explain to himself that it was just a dream.

That he had never met her.

He knew she would not return.

She would not return to her captor, to the man who had kept her in a dark underworld for months, deaf to her pleas and sobs, a man who was crippled, who was cold, frightening and empty.

Despite this, despite knowing it, when the day came he could think of nothing else − he watched as the sand shifted in the great hourglass constructed of bone and glass as he lay in his chamber, drinking wine, feeling like a demented madman, listening for her footsteps amidst the groans of the dead.

She did not come.

He stared at the empty hourglass, which turned and the sand began to shift again, counting down the time of the new day; he wondered how he could have been so naïve to wait.

For the first time in ages he felt an embarrassing, burning wetness under his eyelids − proof that he really loved her.

He shuddered when he heard the quiet rustling of robes − he glanced sideways and saw her standing in the doorway of his dark chamber, in her hair beautiful small yellow flowers, her face bright and warm.

She wore the gown he had given her, black, decorated with sun rays stones.

"My mother kept me. She couldn't let me go." She whispered, and he felt his throat tighten, his body freeze, unable to make a sound or make any movement.

He breathed hard, looking at her with wide eyes, his lower lip and hands trembling involuntarily as she approached him slowly, as her hands untied the bindings of his robe with a light, easy motion, revealing what was underneath, how much he wanted her, how much he waited for her.

"I have been counting down the days when I will see your face again." She whispered, running her fingers over his scarred cheek, sitting on top of him, gently taking his hard length in her palm, lowering herself onto the fat head of his cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He wanted to tell her that he didn't believe her, but instead a surprised, throaty groan of pleasure burst from his mouth − he tilted his head back, panting loudly, his hips involuntarily beginning to root his manhood into her fleshy, moist insides, her hands clenched on his shoulders.

"– fuck –" He gasped out looking at her with his lips parted, synchronising his thrusts with the rhythm of her body − he swallowed loudly as she slid the material of her robe off her shoulders, exposing her soft, plump breasts to him.

"– touch me, husband –" She cooed, and he lifted himself, immediately pressed his lips to her breast, sucking on it greedily, licking and teasing her nipple with his tongue, all hard with desire.

She sank her fingers into his long white hair and pressed his face against her chest, rising and falling on top of him with a loud click of her moisture, moaning so sweetly and loudly that he felt like his manhood was about to explode.

"– were you touching yourself? – did you touch yourself when you weren't with your husband? –" He hissed out in a trembling voice between flicks of his tongue, she kissed his hair in an attempt to soften his question and her answer.

"– forgive me, husband – forgive me, I've missed you so terribly –" She mumbled helplessly as he ran his fingers down her hips, twisting with her so that she fell on her back.

He gripped her thighs in his hands, looking down at her − her face all red with exertion, her hair scattered in disarray around her head, her body all bare before him, hot, beautiful, his.

"– I think I should remind you to who this body belongs to –" He growled, ending his sentence with a deep, brutal thrust, a loud, surprised moan escaping from her throat.

"– you are mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– repeat –"

"– I – I'm yours – I'm yours, forgive me, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty and drew in the air loudly as he spread her thighs shamelessly in front of him, looking down at the place where their bodies joined, her entrance clenching against him steadily, leaking with her wetness.

"– I forgive you, sweet wife –" He gasped, recognising this act of grace as an expression of his love and gratitude that she had not betrayed him, that she had returned, that he held her in his arms again.

"– I'll fill you with my seed and it'll be just as it should be –" He exhaled as he watched the perverse sight of their bodies slamming against each other with a loud slaps, his thrusts deep and sure, each time opening her wide on his thick, swollen cock.

He couldn't believe that she had come back to him, that he could smell her wonderful, floral scent again, that she was allowing him to possess her of her own free will.

Her fingers grasped his hand and sank it between her thighs − he felt her direct him to the small bud between her soft folds, she moaned when he touched her there.

"– here, husband – please –" She mewled and moaned loudly, throwing her head back as he began to rub her there, simultaneously caressing her inside and out, her core beginning to pulse greedily against him.

"– gods – stop clenching –" He exhaled with difficulty, rooting into her with quick, brutal thrusts of his hips, stretching her fleshy walls apart with the sticky click of her moisture.

He felt that if he went on like this he would simply come inside her, when he wanted to torment her, to prolong the moment of this immense pleasure and encounter after so many months.

"– I can't – I can't –" She sobbed loudly and he saw her fulfilment in all its glory, her hot, soft flesh went through convulsions, greedily sucking him inside, her lips parted wide in pleasure, her gaze misty and warm.

He cursed loudly, coming inside her so painfully hard that he clenched his eyes shut, panting loudly, rooting into her for a moment longer, the relief and delight that surged through his body was indescribable.

He looked at her beautiful face, her hands on either side of her head, her expression nothing but fulfilment and peace, her breathing uneven and ragged, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

She looked up at him after a moment and smiled sleepily, raising her hand slowly − her soft fingertips ran over his scarred cheek and he closed his eyes, feeling pleasant, hot squeeze in his heart.

"What is my wife's name?" He asked in a whisper, kissing her warm, small hand, smelling of fresh grass and flowers. He heard her sigh sweetly at his question, her fingers sliding lower, running over his cold lips.

"Persephone."

_____

Aemond Taglist

@dc-marvel-girl96 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @verena-targaryen-writes @talesofoldandnew @happinessinthebeing @travelingmypassion

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senualothbrok · 10 months ago

Text

Unexpected

Summary: You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.

Word count: 1.4k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Professor Gale x female Tav/reader.

More disclaimers: Vaginal sex. Kissing/lip play. Semi-public sex. Chair sex. Sweat kink.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You wait at the back of the lecture hall as Gale dismisses his class. Chattering pupils file past you and out of the door, bounding eagerly into the end of the semester. When his eyes meet yours, he grins so widely it is as though he has not seen you for weeks. You chuckle as you make your way towards him. The closing door echoes around the now empty room.

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

You greet him with a quick kiss.

“I was in town, and just thought I’d drop by and see you. I thought it might be quiet, now that classes are over.”

He circles his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His brown eyes blaze.

"I’m very glad you did.”

You are suddenly aware of the state of you as you lean into his crisp tunic, his sandalwood scent engulfing you. Your dress clings to your curves, your flesh moist and swollen with heat. It is warm outside. You had broken into a half jog on the way, worried that you would miss him. Now, you are half drenched.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” You swipe your hand across your forehead. “I’m a sweaty mess.”

You notice that he is nuzzling into you. You can feel his fingers fluttering against your hips as his breath tickles your ear.

“Are you?” he murmurs.

His nose grazes your neck in little arcs, his hair brushing against your cheek. You quiver, your body already melting under his touch. He draws back, his eyes half-lidded.

You recognise that look.

“No.” You laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He grimaces. He is pressing his body against yours, his hands roaming, searching, lingering over an opening in your bodice.

“Not here.” He is nodding, agreeing.

“Anyone could walk in on us, Gale. A student, even.”

“You're right,” he mutters into your shoulder.

Your mind is resisting. But your fingers are grasping at the bristles on his chin. You are fighting the urge to run them over all your soft places.

“I’d lose my tenure.”

You tingle at a wet flicker in the dip of your collarbone. A hard heat twitches against your thigh. He buckles against you.

It is the knowledge of danger, you realise, the threat of discovery. It is the sheen of sweat on your muscles, the taste and smell of your salt. It drives him wild.

And his desire sets you on fire.

“Gale.” You tilt your head to him.

“I know,” he rasps. “We can't.”

He crushes his forehead against yours. He pushes you apart, then wrenches you close again. You can barely breathe now as you rub against each other, grinding and pressing hard into his flesh.

He trembles as his tongue trails up your neck, your chin, the corner of your lips. Every inch of your flesh is throbbing. You shiver against him. It is becoming impossible to remain standing. You stumble slightly against the desk behind you.

“Gods,” he whispers.

He runs his tongue over the seam of your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You moan, clutching at his collar, raking your nails into his exposed chest. You suddenly remember where you are.

“We need to stop,” you manage.

He hums as you open your mouth to him. When he enters, you swirl and roll your tongue against his. He groans as you lap and suck at it, gently, then hungrily and urgently, and you weaken from the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you.

He rolls his hips into yours. You can feel your slickness straining against the unwelcome clothing between you. As if he can hear your thoughts, he reaches for the clasps on your bodice, the belt around your waist. When he rips the fabric from your skin, you are only vaguely aware of your nakedness. There is nothing else but your ache to be tasted by him.

He flicks his wrist, sending a rushing hand across the room to lock the door. His gaze is ravenous as he devours every line and curve of your glistening body. You can feel his bulge surging against your leg, see the traces of desperation that leak through his breeches. He stares at the thick trickle that gleams around your mound and the inside of your thighs.

“Gods,” he moans. “You'll be the end of me.”

There is the hot whirl of his tongue on your neck, the maddening graze of his teeth that tingles. Your vision is blurring, blind desire blazing through you. When he draws back, you stifle a whine.

“Come here.”

He falls back onto the chair behind him, his legs spread wide, his eyes smouldering. His lips curl in a sideways smile as he unfastens the catch on his breeches. He wraps his slender fingers around his cock, beads already spilling from its tip. You tremble in a burst of wet heat as you watch the veins twitching on his shaft. His gaze does not move from you as he pumps it once, twice. You can feel the moisture leaking from your folds as you climb onto him. When the head of his cock pushes against your swollen entrance, you both gasp.

“Do you want me?” he pants.

You whimper as you sink down onto him. His hardness stretches you wide, and he is so stiff, so thick, that it is a sharp surge through you. With a grunt, he spasms against your chest as you watch half of his cock sliding into you.

You plunge your tongue into his moaning mouth, desperate for more of him. When he clenches your hips and thrusts up into you, you cry out. You bury your face in his hair, tousled and damp with his musk. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, hardened and tensed. As his girth pulses against your clit, you writhe with the tremors of pleasure. He grasps at your breasts as you rise and fall, grinding into him as he drives his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your mouth.

You lick at his lips, feverish. You cannot think, cannot speak. All that exists is the burning inside you, his groans as he bounces your hips onto his cock, firmly, slowly, then faster and faster in a gathering frenzy. His gritted teeth, and the slick sounds of your ache, drawing towards its peak.

In your haze, you are dimly conscious of a clicking sound. You are arching your back, your head thrown back in a convulsion of bliss, when he suddenly falls still. You continue to buck into him until you notice the panic on his face.

“The door.”

There is a clacking and creaking, and you are scrambling onto your feet faster than you have ever moved in your life. You are dripping and raw and naked as you look frantically around you. But it is too late.

As the door opens, you see a flurry of his fingers. He leaps behind his desk.

You are holding your breath, terrified, as an elderly man saunters into the lecture hall. You raise your hands to cover your breasts, and that is when you realise you are fully translucent.

An invisibility spell.

Gale’s hair is dishevelled, his cheeks flushed. He stills the heaving of his chest, leaning back in his chair. He draws his shoulders up in an imitation of calm, concealing his exposed groin under the desk.

“Professor Dekarios.” The old man frowns. “I thought you would have gone by now. I’m only here to do some tidying up, to make sure all is in order before we close the premises.”

Gale flashes a disarming smile. “Of course, Jarvis. That’s very kind. I’m just finishing up here, and then the room will be all yours.”

Jarvis shrugs, scanning the lecture hall. For a moment, it is as though he is looking straight at you. You are frozen with fear and shame. But he gives Gale a brisk nod and wanders towards the door.

“Enjoy your holidays, Professor Dekarios,” Jarvis calls out with a wave.

“And you, Jarvis.”

He removes the spell as soon as Jarvis closes the door. Your heart rattles as you dart towards the bundle of clothes strewn on the floor, overcome with relief that Jarvis did not notice them.

“We’re never doing this again,” you huff, bending over to pull your skirt on.

You feel his arm curling around you from behind. His cock is still hard, pressing into the cleft of your ass. His tongue flicks at your ear lobe, and your knees almost buckle. You turn to face him, your nipples prickling against his chest.

“On the contrary,” he breathes, wetting his lips. “I think we should finish what we started.”

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#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale x tav #professor gale #professor dekarios #bg3 gale smut #bg3 gale fic #gale fic #gale dekarios smut #gale of waterdeep smut #gale fanfic

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savannahsdeath · 11 months ago

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thinking about dealer!ellie, but not the college-little one . . . one, that an innocent girl like you sees on a dark alley and she can't help but instinctively start walking faster. yet, it turns out, she's really a sweetheart when you give her a chance <3

warnings: daddy issues kinda ?? ellie can seem creepy at first but i swear she's not .. thats all for now

you explored the darkest part of the city, the moonlight not brightening your way at all. you felt lost.

you always defined yourself as fatherless, it was the easiest way to explain the lack of a parent — people thought he died and didn't pursue the topic. after some time passed, you started believing your own lie. deep down, in a strangled part of your brain, you knew he's alive and well. but on the other hand, he wasn't — not for you, not in your life. why would he matter?

until he contacted you. he didn't show up in person, what at first made you think that he's... well, a pussy. but you soon realised it's actually analytical and mindful of him. you could act on impulse, say or do something bad. seeing him for the first time won't be easy. he gave you some time to think, so your emotions didn't get between both of you, and couldn't ruin your relationship from the beginning.

but he could at least leave you his phone number instead of the most complicated address, consisting of, not to be dramatic but, like a hundred numbers.

"can i help you?" you heard a feminine, yet hard and raspy voice.

the unforeseen sound made you jump, your heart beating like a little bird trapped in a cage, trying to get out of your chest. you couldn't let her notice how scared you were, though. you crumpled the letter in your sweaty hand. the yellowish paper felt humid, probably soaking wet from your moist skin.

"i don't think so." your voice trembled with the first vowel but you managed to regain your unbothered, callous posture right after.

"this..." she gestured at the ground and area around you — dark buildings that looked empty, yet you felt watched, in plain sight. "this is a bad place for girls like you."

you nervously cleared your throat, deciding to ignore her opinion, and continued on walking. but you could still hear her echoing footsteps.

"i think that— you shouldn't be there. and you don't want to be there." she crossed her arms.

once you gave up and turned around, you were left surprised by how pretty she was. your expectations were— well, on a way lower level. she looked masculine and you could see the curves of her muscles through her clothes, yet you weren't feeling precarious nor apprehensive by her presence anymore.

"actually," she continued, "i know that. it's painted all over your face. one glance in your direction and i already sense the discomfort."

you sharply inhaled, the air hissing in your nostrils as you mumbled an annoyed "god" under your breath. "are you always like that?"

"no." she shook her head and pursed her lips in a thin line, before realising what you meant and chuckling. "not at all. but you should be fuckin' thankful." she untangled her arms and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "c'mon, what are you looking for?"

you pinched your nose bridge and closed your eyes with a huff, because why did she have to be so damn persistent and perpetual? but she seemed able to help you, so in a slightly complaining—dissenting tone you murmured your father's name.

and her stubborn smirk faded, her gaze shifted between you and the letter in your hand. "who are you?" she asked, emphasizing each syllable, as if she was talking to a child.

you were dubious and skeptical on what you should say nor should you admit the truth, you just shrugged. a hesitant, mistrustful raise of your shoulders, which even deepened the girl's frown, knitting her eyebrows together. "i dunno..."

"you can't be a sluuu— sorry, a prostitute" she thought aloud, actually considering this option.

"why?" your expression glowered as you scowled. oh, so your father is associated with call girls, how nice! "don't answer. whatever. just— take me to him."

"i can't." she defensively raised her hands. "you could be a... fuck, i don't know, a spy or something!"

"don't be stupid" you scoffed and couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i'm his daughter."

she gulped and her eyes widened. "daughter?..."

✧˖°

PART 2 IS OUT !!

#tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x female reader

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

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A Prince's Release [Asgard!Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki takes a break from a diplomatic feast, and finds he is not alone in the hallways of Asgard. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Oral. Loki POV. Soft dom.

Loki’s footsteps echoed away from the buzz of the feast. And as their raucous mirth grew quieter, so did his mind.

He glanced out the arched window to the side, noting the glitter of Asgard below. He had not been released from his diplomatic obligations entirely. Not officially. Not yet. But he needed this.

He dissolved the ceremonial armour adorning his shoulders, his forearms. It’s gold faded, revealing the simple earthen green of the leathers beneath. Hair that had lain nestled beneath his helmet fell free against his collar. Suddenly, a fist gathered the rear of his tunic. He adopted a battle stance without thinking, spinning with malice in his eyes. His features softened; resolve softening as his dagger hovered beneath the tip of your chin. “My Lady, you should be more careful.” he murmured darkly, running the flat of the thin blade to meet your parted lips. You kissed it.

Several guards lining the open arches sank into shadow.

Loki felt the sharp thud of polished marble flat on his back as you pushed him to the wall, the biting cool it surely held almost chilling through his leathers. You had manoeuvred him to the inside of one of the archway columns. Concealed, almost.

Audacious, this one; he mused. His mind was fire, the heavy dullness chess of diplomatic politics replaced by a haze of lust.

The leather tunic squeaked, sliding against the marble surface as you swept your tongue deeper inside his mouth like a demon. He felt your familiar digits combing through his hair. Pulling. Searching. Claiming, he thought, sliding a moist palm around the nape of your neck.

Loki liked that. He tugged the back of your evening dress sharply, pulling you away. With an inquiring smirk, he tilted his head. “What has gotten into you, little thing? To accost a Prince of Asgard so..." he tutted playfully. Loki gleefully watched as heat rose in your skin. He could feel it; warming the cool night air.

“You, obviously” you huffed, feigned annoyance losing its effect as your grappling fingers tugged at the laces of his trousers. “My prince,” you added as an after-thought.

The palace had ears everywhere. “I think not,” Loki smiled as he let his knuckles trail over your shoulder, down your bare bicep. “It has been ten long days since I’ve gotten into you. My father has seen to that.” The roll of your eyes made his stomach flip. Oh, how he loved this. How he had missed it.

He turned the smile flexing against his lips into a bite. “Loki,” you whimpered petulantly, sliding your hand down the crotch of his leathers as you tried in vain to launch at his mouth. He held you back with ease, your beautiful brow scrunched. “You have not answered my letters, your servants turn me away...they say you are entertaining the diplomats every night,”

The game, Loki smirked with deep satisfaction, is afoot. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tutted, making sure his lips stayed open. He narrowed his eyes, teasing you. His tongue rested on the ridge of his mouth, noting every microscopic shiver of arousal course across your skin.

“Show me how much you missed me during my diplomatic conclave. Missed him.” He nodded down to the weighty arousal hardening in your covert hand. “What?” you gasped, glancing around the empty hallway with a modesty unbecoming of your true nature. Starlight glittered against golden pillars, mounted flames crackling against the shouts from the feast hall beyond.

Loki shrugged innocently, a small smile curling his lip. His stomach was fizzing. He could feel the skin of his balls tightening beneath his ceremonial trappings. The inches of his mighty cock thickening with each roaring second of silence.

While he had been bound to nod and smile during peace talks and the intricacies of trade agreements over an endless ten days, all that had filled his mind was thoughts of your hot mouth wrapping around him. The glide of your tongue, the pressure of your fingertips digging hard into his flesh.

The torchlight made every vein of your irises sparkle as you slowly raised your gaze to meet his own.

There was a mischievous glint in them, an unspoken language honed between you saying all that needed to be said.

You craned upwards, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear with a licentious sigh. “Anyone could walk by,” you breathed, making Loki shudder. His thighs clenched, an unprompted groan rumbling in his throat. “Oh yes,” he gasped as your fingers toyed with the leather straps slung against his hips, “anyone.” The belts and sheath fell to the marble by his ankles with a series of thuds. It’s happening, he thought incredulously as you sank to your knees. The rustle of your skirts pooling on the ground made Loki brace. You never took your eyes off his, tugging the leather trousers down his hips.

Loki rested his head back on the marble pillar, lids fluttering closed as his hand wrapped around his cock. He jolted as the foreskin pulled back, stroking gently as you watched him. She’s actually going to-

His breath hitched, jaw clenching as your palms slid up the solid bulge of his femurs.

You squeezed.

“G-gods” Loki heard himself stammer, cringing.

Hold it together, he chided; letting his hand fall to the side. You are a Prince of Asgard. But knowing your talents, he suddenly wished he had something to hold on to.

The small puff of air that erupted from your lips made him straighten, spine pressing flat to the mirror. “I’ve missed you,” you whispered against his cock. Loki took a deep breath, choking ferociously on the exhale as you swallowed the tip. He clenched and unclenched his fists, resisting the urge to tangle his fingers in your hair like a commoner. The warmth was valhalla. No matter how many times he experienced it, the god found himself eternally unprepared. All of his senses were heightened. The rush of desire and long-held fantasies of this act, in this place, welling in his bloodstream as you swallowed him deeper. Lips made a vacuum on the girth, the feeling of your fingers circled tight around the root. Squeezing. Merciless. They tugged lightly at his public hair with every targeted pump. Wet. Your blowjobs were always so fucking wet.

He suddenly realised he was moaning. Loudly. The gnash of his teeth grinding shocked him back to reality, feeling the straining vein in his neck soften. Loki looked down, hearing the whoreish slurps and groans from your mouth as he thrust gently against your tongue. He juddered, palms slapping against the marble. “F-ffuck, darling...uh, y-yes,” he heard someone whine, “like that - just...like, like that.”

The hand pressed against one quivering thigh suddenly intertwined with his own. Loki watched, entranced as you brought it to the back of your head. “Oh, slut” he murmured in wonder, the feral rumble surprising even himself, “my slut.”

The effort not to slam his cock down your throat was inhuman. Appropriate, Loki grit; as your travelling saliva began to slosh against the crease of his thighs. With every moan-punctuated bob of your head, he guided you. Encouraged you. Yes, darling. Så jævla bra. Goddess, only you. No one fucks me like you. His pants of devotion, carnal and otherwise, filled the open promenade like incense. They wafted into the night air like smoke, each filth-soaked groan from his throat louder than the last. He could hear no buzz from the feasting hall, not anymore. All he could hear was blood thundering in his ears.

Tentatively, he let his gaze fall on the opposing pillar. Its polished surface held a mirage of you both, his towering body with your worshipping form nestled against his thighs.

Beneath the moonlight, cheekbones slashed the angles of his face in the faint reflection. Your eager body knelt between his spread legs was a tableau worthy of the masters of this realm. But not even Kvasir could capture such rapturous eros, he mused fleetingly; before pushing your head deeper against his cock.

You moaned muffled approval, both hands sliding up his obliques beneath the leather tunic. Your fingers curled around his abdomen. Loki felt his thighs begin to shake.

He raised his hands behind his head. Fingers scraped back the hair at his temples, a shuddering sigh racking his chest. Errant tendrils caught between his digits, tugging as another quaking gasp snaked from his throat. He laced the fingers behind his skull, stomach clenching as your sucking intensified. He marvelled at his image, the features blurred but no less impressive. No wonder you were insatiable. Each delve of your mouth, each drag of your hardened lips, each swipe of your talented tongue. Faster. Harder, as he watched himself come undone. He was going to explode. His ass clenched, trying to stop the wave of cum building in his loins. The one that would soon be sloshing down the back of your throat. He couldn’t take his eyes off himself. Off of you. The ceremonial leather tight against his biceps had begun to split under the skill of your mouth, the heat of your tongue and your breath and your fingers. His jaw hung open, chin pressed to his chest. It was wild. He was an animal. A king. He was- F-fuck, In the marble’s reflection, Loki could just see the slick of your drool glinting down to his knees in the lick of firelight, smeared by needy palms. Deviant, he thought as power welled in his deepest core, and she’s all mine. His grip of your ornately designed hair tightened, just for a second. The pants were deafening, broken gasps and moans of your name shaking the very stone beneath his feet as the pillar to his back crunched with each twitch of his shoulders. The responding settle of your fingers around his hips was the signal he needed. The signal he craved. With a barely tempered roar, the god’s ass clenched painfully; bucking forwards. He threw his head back against the pillar with a crack, jaw clenched to the ceiling as the world went black.

Stars burst behind his eyelids, the force of climax tearing through his body like ripping leather. All he could feel was pleasure, warmth from your heavenly mouth caressing him over the edge of sanity as his knees buckled. Your fingers tightened around his hips, rocking him gently through the final, strangled breaths.

In the way you always did in these stolen moments, you tucked his softening cock into his leathers with a kiss; fingers deftly weaving the laces together. You climbed his trunk, tucking damp hair behind his ears.

“I missed you,” he murmured breathlessly, tasting himself in every desperate catch of your lips.

Through the haze, he watched with slanted brows as you ran a thumb from the base of your chin to your mouth before inspecting it. A thick layer of white coated the curve. You sucked slowly. “Ten days, my Prince,” you chided solemnly, before the smile he loved so much began to dance.

Loki winked, his senses returning. And his lust. “I told you I would save it all,” he smouldered, winking as his armour once again materialised around his leather garments. Horns unfurled, reaching forward on either side above your head. The gold seemed brighter somehow.

“I have a mind to return to the feast, wife.” he said quietly, cocking an eyebrow as he extended his hand. You frowned. “Only temporarily,” he added, throwing a glance to the huge doors down the corridor. “We left in such haste…” You took his hand warily. “Not long, my love” you replied. It was a warning. “The feast holds nothing that will sate the hunger I have.” “I know,” Loki smirked. He traced the curve of your earlobe with his tongue, feeling you shiver with desire against him as he flicked it back and forth.

He moaned softly against the shell, your faltering grip on his cape releasing a wolfish smile. “I know.”

Tags (contd in comments) @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @goddessofwonderland @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog @alexakeyloveloki @kingtwhiddleston

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #lokismut #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki of asgard #loki gif #loki oneshot

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cypressvs · 2 years ago

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HEAD EMPTY, JUST WANNA FUCK YOU PT. 1

pairing: blade/f!reader, luocha/f!reader, sampo/f!reader (separate)

cw: (all) sexual fantasies, unconventional turn-ons, they’re all pervs, established sexual relationship, (blade) biting, marking, dry humping, man handling, fingering, mean dom!blade, he calls you ‘sweetheart,’ pussy slapping, (luocha) finger sucking, hypersexualizing water?, m!receiving oral, m!masturbation, hand job, off-screen p in v sex, (sampo) public sex, size kink, clothed sex, nipple play

wc: 1.3k, 400~ each | join the taglist

minors do not interact

BLADE's expression doesn't change when you abruptly barged into his room looking absolutely disheveled and you do not think twice before voicing your complaints. You have been temporarily stationed in the Luofu and much to your luck, the synthetic summertime season was at its peak. Doing the most minimal of movements has caused sweat to bead over your heated skin, sliding down in little streaks and disappearing between the valley of your chest. Ever observant, the tiny phenomena didn't go unnoticed by your partner as he immediately zeroes in on the sight, completely ignoring your rambling in favor of indulging in his descending thoughts. You think he's unbothered—uncaring even—but if only you knew that it's all a calm front over the brewing storm that sends sparks and blood rushing to his cock. It's instinctual; the way he comes alive as his brain began conjuring images of the nights you shared buried under the sheets. It's salty on his tongue but he licks a fine strip over the crook of your neck anyway before sinking his teeth in you. You moan and he digs his dull fingernails into your hips a tad bit deeper, urging you to rut into his clothed dick again. Blinking out of his delirious reverie, Blade stands up from his side of the bed to approach you. Sweet, innocent you were too busy bending over your drawer to notice that he was already close enough to roll his hips against your ass. He's so generous with it too, letting you get a clear feel of his raging hard-on before pushing you forward by the nape and shoving his face into your moist skin. Your complaints about being dirty go unheard because sweetheart, that's how he likes you and he makes sure that you know that as he growls out all the things he'd do to you while sliding his palms over your thighs tauntingly. He pushes the flimsy fabric of your ruined panties aside before rubbing small circles over your throbbing clit. You whimper and he asks if you like it, grinning into your exposed neck as he breathes in your scent and the way your perfume becomes washed out by sweat—so alike the air he breathes in sex. It's almost enough to break his restraint but Blade just adores the tiny, pathetic whimpers that spill out of you when he goes agonizingly slow so cut him some slack if he ignores your begging to suck a bruise over your pulse or if he slaps your pussy when you start grinding into his hand for more friction. Be patient, he whispers mockingly before he nibbles on your ear, or else you won't be cumming at all tonight. And you know—you have to know that Blade never lets anything come out of his mouth if he didn't mean it at all.

LUOCHA hates himself for the lewd, debauched way his cock springs to life as you moan through a yawn. You have only just woken up and thoughts of shoving his fingers into your mouth and pressing them against your tongue and telling you to suck and— Luocha, snap out of it! He chastises himself for acting so needy first thing in the morning but he just can't help it! He offers you a glass of water and while you gulp it down, all he could see is the way it spills at the side of your lips, dripping teasingly slow and staining the dress shirt you stole from his closet. You thank him with an ignorant, little smile but his eyes can only see the moistness of your mouth. It's so eerily similar to when you lick your lips at the sight of his cock, flushed and leaking fluid at the mere sight of you on your knees ready to devour him for all that he's worth. Clearing his throat, Luocha excuses himself under the guise of wanting a morning shower. If only you knew that behind the steamy fog in your bathroom, your pretty lover was sliding his hand up and down, up and down over his throbbing dick. He goes slow, gasping with his air knocked out of him as he rubs his thumb over the slit on the head but continuing to edge himself over that lustful cliff of pleasure. Droplets of water from the showerhead slide down his skin, tracing past his strong abdominals and making his hair stick so prettily over his pale skin but it does little to bring clarity over his hazy mind and his dick. It's so vivid and whenever he closes his eyes, he sees you pumping him instead, lips parting before suctioning around the bulb and rolling your tongue around it. Slowly—the same rhythm of his hand—before you're suddenly sliding further and further down. You twist your soft palms around what you cannot take and he swears that he'd loop the unholy sound of the slick and gags that come out of your mouth forever if he could. Luocha imagines your teeth grazing his sensitive skin lightly and he comes, pearls of white coating his hand only to be swiftly down the drain washed by the shower. It's better that you don't know what went on behind the bathroom walls because what you don't know can't hurt you—or your pussy that's still recovering from his madness the night before.

SAMPO ignites, from nerve to flesh, when he hears you mumble a curse. It's heavy with emotion, a need that should be quelled before you erupt into an uncontrollable fit of anger. He feels bad for the salesman who tried to scam you; feels bad for the people who began looking your direction out of curiosity. But above all, Sampo feels bad because he can't bring himself to sincerely feel bad about the way blood rushed into his cock, throbbing with need underneath his tight pants. It's so uncomfortable but he could only watch with half-lidded eyes as you argued with the stranger. Oh, how your voice drives him crazy! It knocks all thought out of his head as he's overcome with the urge to fuck. It's such a nasty little word but the way you ennuciate it, the way your lips press and part to say it...Sampo's dick jumps at the thought. It was only what... an hour ago that he was forcing a "F-fuck... Hah... Mhmm...Feels so good—! It feels so good, Sampo!" out of you and he already wants more. He's so greedy but he knows what he wants and how to get it so Sampo wraps an innocent arm around your waist with a sly, little smile. "Don't worry," he says, "your reliable man Sampo will take all your worries away." And Sampo Koski always keeps his promises. Unbeknownst to you, Sampo just promised to fuck all your anger out of you. He'll take you to a back alley and push your panties aside to shove his hot, heavy cock inside your twitchy hole. He'll use his big, strong body to keep you against the wall, no escaping until your cute mouth can only babble naughty curses about how he's so good at melting your brain with pleasure. You'd like it a lot, won't you, especially when he tugs your bra down to tweak at your hardened nipples, coaxing sweet moans out of you when he suddenly shoves them in his mouth, coating it with his drool as he continues rutting into you like an animal in heat. You're just so cute, he thinks, as he shushes you lightly. So ignorant of his plans and so heated over such petty matters. You don't know a single thing about how easily you can make him act out like a virgin all over again but don't you worry your pretty head. Your big man Sampo Koski is about to change all that.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail smut #hsr imagines #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x female reader #hsr x female reader #hsr blade #hsr luocha #hsr sampo #[ update ! ] — ambrosia injected successfully !

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atzfilm · 6 months ago

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [eight.]

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

— pairing; ot8/reader (mingi/f.reader & hongjoong/f.reader focused); 7.1k

— chapter warnings; death, death mentions, murder mentions, slightly gory

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

FIC WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, blood drinking, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping. this series is very dark, if you're uncomfortable with the subjects listed do not read. warnings will change but be listed in each chapter. there is no tag list for this series.

Chapter 8:

The heat is all consuming.

Your moist grip struggles against the metal chains digging into your skin, slipping as you attempt to get a firm grasp. The dried blood isn’t exactly helping you, chipping off each time you attempt to pull. You can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you. He hasn’t stopped telling you that it’s nearly impossible for someone of your strength to break it, but you cannot help but try. You can’t let yourself succumb to whatever those creatures are planning to do to you.

“Solaris, you’ll exhaust yourself.”

You shake your head, hitting the metal against the floor. It does not make even the slightest dent, rattling. “We’re not going to die here, Wooyoung.”

“We will if someone catches you trying to escape,” he breathes, lids heavy. “Just sleep for a bit, I’ll throw something at you to wake you up if someone comes.” You look around the two of you, the cell completely empty. Not even a single rock decorates the floor. His chuckle is strained as he observes the confused look on your face. “Joking.”

You let go, attempt in vain. Your gaze roams over Wooyoung instead; body completely covered in tightened rope, feet outstretched but bound to metal hoops welded into the floor, arms lifted above him, fingers spread with smaller hoops keeping them from moving. Likely bound so tightly he is unable to even flick a finger. It is as if they have molded him into the wall, only his head free.

“You’ve never looked at me with such worry,” he notes. “Perhaps I should find myself on the brink of death often.”

“Did they hurt you?” You ask, though the answer is obvious.

They hit a blunt object against your temple as you entered the cell, Wooyoung already trapped when you arrived. His head was limp, hanging forward. Though now he is speaking, you can see the wounds on his body, clothing wrinkled and torn. The creatures barely touched you. Your fabric is slightly ripped, but it is meager in comparison to him.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he says simply, avoiding the question entirely. You lean yourself back against the wall, desperate to push the thoughts of San from your mind. You have seen too much death since knowing them. Seeing one of them die, though, that was the last thing you ever expected. Your own chest aches with the loss. You could only fathom how Wooyoung has fared.

“It didn’t look too painful, right?”

“Hm?” You look at him.

“San. It didn’t look painful when he died, did it? Do you think it hurt badly?”

You press your lips together. He looks exhausted, but his eyes never leave yours, flicking down to the movement of your lips. Swearing soon follows, head shaking softly. “He didn’t deserve it. He cared so much, so so much. All he wanted was to belong, to care for us. But we let him down.”

He closes his eyes. “I could feel it. His soul being ripped from mine. It felt like someone dug a dagger into my chest and pulled out each rib. It was so painful, I could only imagine what it felt like for him.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “I never saw San cry before.”

“I'm sorry,” you say softly. That's all you can say. Seeing someone you love so violently gone - You could barely hold back your own tears as he died below you.

He hums, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “Can't wait to kick his ass when I see him again. He promised he wouldn't die before me,” Wooyoung huffs, shutting his eyes. “They never explained how much it would hurt.”

You're unable to respond, comforting words lost. If you could at least hold his hand you would, but your restraints prevent it. All you can offer is silence.

“He did like you. Had an odd way of showing it, but he did. He talked about you while we were alone when you were gone. Sure, most of it was scolding and jabs, but he only does that with people he cares about. Did, that.”

Wooyoung’s head lifts, lips tight.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening as your head tilts up.

“Shouldn't a creature of Lilith be in the pits of hell torturing wretched souls?” Wooyoung spits, face distorting into disgust. “You decide to waste your time on the two of us instead?”

The creature's mouth opens, a foul smell scorching the air. “A burden that Lilith brought to me. Your bodies should have been disposed of long ago.” Its bulbous eyes shift to you. “Especially one of her kind.”

“Fuck you,” he hisses between breaths. A violent crack echoes through the air as you try twisting around the creature to see. Your heartbeat rattles against your eardrums, panic settling in. He can’t die, he can’t.

The creature stares down at you, his hand wrapping around your neck. It’s large enough to cover your mouth as well, strained breaths through the wrinkled skin that holds you captive. If you could tell Wooyoung to stop talking you would, but the hand seems to melt your lips shut as it snarls down at you, the tugging of your hands doing nothing to help. The touch her you die moment isn’t really one you’d prefer being in - the creature could easily snap your neck.

“Shit,” Wooyoung curses. There’s a bit of space between the creature's shoulder and head for you to follow the noise. Wooyoung struggles to pull against the metal, blood dripping down his restraints as he grunts. “You’re messing with a kumiho, you worthless cun-”

The metal prison door flies across the room, bending against the concrete walls. The creature turns around, but it is not quick enough. Its hand is violently pulled off of you, thrown against the same wall. You squint through the action, trying to catch who exactly has entered.

“Mingi?” Wooyoung says loudly.

Mingi shifts in and out of existence, wings tendons strained as he attacks the creature. The sounds are disgusting, flesh torn, bones cracking. Mingi’s thrown to the ground near you, covered in a blackened substance. His eyes shine, iridescent. His fingers sink into your flesh, and you gasp. He glances back at you briefly, an apologetic look in his eyes as he shields you from the onslaught. He grunts as his back is beaten. The sound of tearing skin is not unfamiliar to you. You cannot do anything but stare, this time completely defenseless with your hands tied. A brief reprieve in the attack allows him to move swiftly, his grasp on you gone. You see his hand sink into the creature before anything else. Darkened crimson coats his fingers as he pulls it back. He grunts, his free hand twisting into paws, sharp tendons cracking in the air. He grips the creature by its neck, tossing it through the open doorway. He glances between Wooyoung and yourself, running over to Wooyoung first. Mingi hisses when his hand touches the metal.

“Foxglove.”

“Why’d you think I've been stuck in here so long,” Wooyoung murmurs.

Mingi rolls his eyes, closing his eyes as he whispers a cantation. The strange glow to the metal seemingly dissipates. He pulls on the welded metal against the wall, ripping out chunks of the surface before doing the other.

“I didn’t need saving,” Wooyoung tugs on the bolts, relief spreading across his face once they drop from the wall. His bones crack as his once shapeshifted arm goes back to normal, fingers outstretched as he sighs. He takes a slow breath, before looking at the two of you. “Oh sh-t, your wings, Mingi.”

You can hear the dripping of blood as Wooyoung points it out.

“It’s nothing. Looks to me like you did need me,” Mingi crouches next to you, glancing over your restraints. He pauses as he touches it, a distressed look passing over his face. You expected him to flinch back as he did with Wooyoung’s, but his fingers wrap around it easily.

No foxglove.

“Mingi-”

“It’s fine, Wooyoung,” his tone seems final. Wooyoung stares at him before sighing.

“Hongjoong didn’t come?” Wooyoung’s voice is soft as Mingi grips the metal and rips it from confining you. He shakes his head slowly, hand brushes against the metal burns on your wrist. You wince at his touch, his eyes meeting yours briefly before looking back at Wooyoung.

“He’s been preoccupied as of late,” Mingi holds out a hand and you grasp it, steadying yourself on two feet. “But he informed us of your location. You can further discuss it with him when we arrive back. Can you create a path? The energy in here should suffice.”

“But…”

“They’ll find us if you delay any longer, Wooyoung.”

A grumble leaves Wooyoung’s lips but he nods anyway, quick whispers spilling from his tight expression. The air tightens then expands, a gust of wind nearly unbalancing your already unstable stance. Mingi grips your forearm, eyes flicking down to your lips before moving back to your gaze. The last time you were pulled through, San kissed you. It’s likely not too different now. Mingi opens his mouth to speak but Wooyoung interrupts, pushing himself between the two of you. Mingi’s grip on you is gone, gaze wandering for a moment before he enters the pathway, leaving the two of you alone. You only catch the gruesome look of his backside briefly before he’s gone.

“Ready?” Wooyoung asks, and you nod. His lips press against yours, and you’re pulled into the portal.

—

He’s pulled from you right when you leave the portal. A groan and laugh echoing around the house as he’s pulled into someone’s arms. Yunho’s grip is tight as he holds him, his body trembling. Teasing leaves his face as he sighs, pulling him closer. It is intimate enough that you look away, watching as the others greet him coming back. You feel odd, their attachment to one another something you yearn for. You spot Jongho amongst the spark, a relieved look on his face as he studies you. A pitiful part of you expects for him to walk over and embrace you but he does the opposite, leaving the room entirely. Everyone is occupied enough that you decide to walk around the others, making your way to your room.

You feel his gaze before you see it, eyes flicking down the long hallway. Seonghwa stands there, arms crossed against his chest. He barely glances at you but you can see how his gaze lingers on your wounds, lips tight and jaw strained. Once you blink he is gone. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth, your hand wrapping around the brass knob before pushing your door open.

Exhaustion swarms your body once you enter your room, slumping against the wooden floors, narrowly missing a wide crack. The chaos that was once in your room is now gone, the blood coating the floors nowhere to be found, wooden boards put back in their place. The only evidence of there being any sort of fight lies in the hole in the wall, wood piled beneath it. Likely to board it up temporarily. It looks like no one has gotten the chance to do much - nails and bolts piled along with it. It was likely Yunho or Jongho who cleaned up your room enough for it to be livable - you remind yourself to thank them at some point in the future. Once things have settled a bit.

The stench of sweat and blood still simmers in the area, nose wrinkling. Your eyes move over to your doorway, the final moments of San with you spreading across your mind. His death is not forgotten. A few painful swallows of spit later, you shakingly crawl to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. The weight of the past few events almost cripples you, your eyes shut as you struggle to hold back your tears.

You’re not sure how much more you can handle. The isolation is getting to you - you used to have Soobin to grieve with. And if it weren’t him, it was your mother, your family. They kept you from spiraling, from sinking further and further into yourself. But you have no one. You look at the reflection of yourself. The bruises on your neck are darkening, deepening the longer you stare at yourself. The urge to call your mother vanishes the longer you stare at the mirror. Subjecting her to the possibility of this happening - you gag at the mere thought. You don’t want to involve anyone else. No one you care about.

It is a strange feeling, the amount of people in this home should be suffocating. And yet, you just feel so lonely.

—

The bowl beneath you distorts. Your vision blurs as you stare, fading in and out of focus. You can hear the birds chirp as they glide through the thickened forest in front of you. You look up, a chill brushing against the raised bumps of your arms.

No one has told you why Wooyoung and yourself were taken. The others have been busy. Hongjoong has not left his room, preoccupied. The horrid look in Mingi's eyes when he pulled you from your cell still haunts you. It was almost soul crushing as his nails dug into your flesh, the wounds are wrapped in gauze still.

Chopsticks slide through your lips, grains of rice mush. You haven’t the energy in you to protest as Seonghwa slid it to you, disappearing before you could thank him. The fear of hatred in his eyes stops you from ever meeting his gaze. He warned them all of what you being here would do. Of what was to come. The two of you haven’t discussed it amongst yourselves but you can feel the blame being spat at you whenever you are in the same room. Enough so that you promptly leave before a word gets out.

No one has really spoken to you since you came back. Even Jongho could barely muster a greeting, words murmured as he left you alone. All you’ve felt is alienation. Leaving was at some point an option, but now, after everything that has happened, it’s the last thing on your mind. San’s sacrifice would have been for nothing if you waltzed out of this home and into death a town away.

It makes sense why you’ve been left alone. It just doesn’t make the feeling go away knowing that.

You force the last scoop of rice into your mouth, swallowing dryly as you stand. The eerie sound of the hallways greets you as you enter, your steps swift and sure.

You walk past Yeosang’s room. The others’ words ring true – it is shut, not a breath of sound escaping through the thin cracks around the door. You'd never attempt to open it. You grieved on your own even though San only began caring for you at the very end. Yeosang and San though, they were attached. Every room you walked in they were always in deep conversation, lightened with laughter. Yeosang's annoyed expression was often softened by the warm look in his eyes when they spent time together. They are all mates but there was just something special between the two. Something you noticed with Yunho and Mingi, Wooyoung and Hongjoong. A bond unlike any other. Your gaze lingers only for another second before you leave, hands wrapped around the rim of the bowl. Wooyoung hasn't left his room either, not even to mess with you, which was fine.

You just can't get used to the silent hallways.

The kitchen is thankfully empty. You waste no time scrubbing the bowl, praying that no one enters while you are alone.

A low groan as you place the bowl in the cabinet fills the silence. You turn, almost stumbling back at the sight.

A blue tint coats his fingertips as he grips the counter. You're unmoving, staring at the carcass of what he once was. A groan escapes blackened lips as he stumbles forward, falling to his knees. His fingers let go of the counter, instead gripping his grayed hair. You can see himself in him if you ignore the obvious signs of decay. His clothing is what he wore that night, stained with his blood and yours. You dare not squint to see if the hole is still in his body, stomach twisting.

“He is still not alive, not fully.”

It's no surprise that Hongjoong follows, his eyes trained on San's crumbled body. There's a strange gleam in his eyes as he watches him. As if he's proud of what he turned his dead mate into. You cannot see anything in San but horror. He oddly does not smell like death, but you dare not get closer to see if he… it… does.

“Do the others know?”

His gaze meets yours. “I wouldn't give their hopes up for something like this. He may turn up dead again.”

“Hongjoong…”

“He is quite marvelous, isn’t he?” Hongjoong’s hands brush his hair tenderly, warmth in his gaze. “He is not himself, but he will be soon. If it all works, this would help the others see reason. They won’t be as upset anymore. We all can be happy again.”

“This, that isn't San. San is dead–”

Fingers wrap around your neck before you can utter another word. His eyes are solid white as he tightens his grip, jaw clenched. You gasp for air, fingers clawing at his hand, desperate for him to let go. Your bruises throb against his fingers. He only tightens before loosening. You suck in a long breath, cupping your neck as you try to regain your sense of self. He seems to catch himself as he rests his eyes on yours.

“San is alive. Not fully but he will be. He must be,” Hongjoong looks back at him. “I'm taking him to your town. He is still a Seelie, unfortunately. He will need their positivity to gain enough strength to live again. I would have forfeited your life, but you reek of pessimism. Delicious for me, but repulsive for him.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“You aren't going to kill them, are you? The townspeople?”

Hongjoong laughs. You see his arm raise but your momentum isn't enough to stop his touch. He holds your chin between his fingers. “What do you want from me, girl? You hope for reassurance, for something other than this, than us?” his grip only tightens as his harsh words drip from his lips. His eyes seem to darken the longer he looks at you, steady on yours. “I will kill them all for San to live if I must.”

“Let me go.”

“I am not letting you go. You are not leaving. You will never leave.”

“Hongjoong–”

His eyes flutter close, a slow breath entering his throat. He opens them again, grin slowly growing on his face. “We will be your final hope, kumiho. You are ours. Not those soon-to-be-dead humans. Grow to care less for them, it will be better for you in the end once you see their graves.”

He leans forward, eyes steady on yours. “You are mine. Even if you yourself do not believe it. Come, San.” He reaches out his hand. San's hand touches his as Hongioong entwines their fingers. “Time to feed.”

He is gone with a blink.

—

Mingi's strikes are harder. He does not stop in his attacks, immediately swiping his opposing sword when you block one. Your breaths are rapid as you desperately try to keep up with his moves. They soon grow faster, your vision blurring trying to keep up.

“Mingi–” you grunt, dunking with another wide swing of his sword. It slices through the air, the sound audible. Fear grows as he continues, eyes seemingly glazed over. This is no longer a practice for you. “Mingi!”

He does not flinch at your shouting, sword raising again. This time you grab the pole he gave you, immediately throwing it against his chest. A loud boom surrounds you, your hands flying to your ears. Mingi's sword drops from his hands and to the mats. He’s thrown back several yards, body hitting a large tree behind him. Your eyes widen, stumbling to your feet. You leap over scraps of wood to get to him, panicked. His breaths are struggling as you crouch next to him, holding your hand against his chest.

“Mingi? Mingi, are you okay?”

He begins to laugh, head lifting. A bruised lip and swollen eye greet you, the pit in your stomach tightening at the sight. You cup his face, turning his head to the right. Cuts cover his skin from the splintered wood. All he does is chuckle as he watches your worried gaze.

“Fuck, I'm sorry,” you say.

“You did what you needed to do, nymph,” his hand encloses yours, lifting it from his face. He lets it go, touching his skin. He winces, sighing. “It wasn't your full strength, but it was enough. We might not be at a dead end with you after all.”

“You did that on purpose?” You stand, speaking slowly. “I thought you were losing yourself.”

His expression is aghast as he examines you. “Never. I have too much to protect to let my mind wander in a match.”

Frustration cannot help but rise in your body as you look down at him. The longer you stare, the longer your own mind wanders. The way San's eyes looked at you, slowly glossing over. The resigned look on his face. The blood. The Seelie dead beneath your fingertips. All of the blood.

You shut your eyes, taking a breath. You turn, leaving Mingi on the ground as you go back to gather your things. You hear him standing from his spot but you ignore him entirely, the horrible thoughts growing. The same face that has haunted you each time you've closed your eyes. Your own mind begins to mold it into the faerie just behind you.

“Are you truly this upset?” Mingi stops you from zipping your bag, hand covering the opening. Your hand wraps around his wrist to tug him away, removing it when a small grunt leaves his lips as you grip too harshly on a new wound.

“I hurt you, Mingi,” you say. “And you laughed.”

“You were supposed to hurt me. That's how you get better at fighting. It's what we do.”

“You should have told me.”

“You wouldn't have fought as hard if I did.”

You turn around, meeting his eyes. His wounds are slowly healing, but the ill feeling has yet to leave your body. “You should have told me.”

His eyes rest on yours. “I won't coddle you. Weakness will not help you, nymph. You saw the way San fell. I’m doing this to help you protect yourself, and to stop one of us from intervening when we see you being targeted. A few cuts and bruises shouldn’t stop you from practicing. We aren’t done.”

He will never understand it. It is his nature - violence, chaos, blood. For a time you thought there to be something more there. And maybe there is. But right now, as your eyes follow his movements, the empty look in his eyes, all you see is nothing. Eerily, the longer you stare, the longer you feel that same odd feeling as the last time you spoke to Soobin.

Like he is not entirely himself.

“I’ll practice with someone else.”

“Who?”

“Why are you so insistent with this, Mingi? We’re done for tonight,” You tug on your bag again, but he does not let go. “Mingi.”

“Do you think we do not think of San every waking moment? Do you believe us faeries to be so heartless that we do not grieve his absence?”

“I never said that.”

“But you stare at me as if it’s true. I am doing this for you, for us, kumiho. And if you were the least bit less selfish you would see what my intentions are. He died protecting you. Do you expect me to just stand back and watch each of us continue to die because we are shielding you? Do you think it fair that our lives are lost because of you?”

Your thoughts move back to Wooyoung, his hands cupping your face, head pressing against yours. It’s not your fault, solaris. Sometimes things just happen, and we cannot do anything to stop it. Don’t put this on yourself, please.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And yet here we are,” he lets go of your zipper, pushing the bag against your chest. You stumble slightly, and he grips the bag, steadying you. Mild disgust coats his face, “Take a reprieve. We start again after I feed.”

—

Sweat drips down your body, soaking your clothing as you heave against the mats. Mingi is not too far away, humming to himself as he packs the training gear away. He has not asked you once if you were alright and you do not blame him. You cough, blood splattering against the mats.

“Shit,” you mumble, hands roaming for your water bottle. You grab it with shaky hands, swirling fresh water in your mouth before spitting it in the grass near you. It’s fine, just a bit of dry mouth. Nothing alarming. Your chest tightens as you shut your eyes, trying to calm your own heartbeat down.

A hand appears in front of you, a small bottle. The liquid inside almost glows, thickened as you take it from him. “It’s revivify. It will only take a few minutes to help. One sip is enough for now.”

“Thanks,” you open the bottle, glancing inside. The stench is a bit sweet, though your nose does not quite agree with it. Swallowing it is a struggle in itself, your throat pulsing, threatening to regurgitate it back to the mats. But you force it down, a rumble echoing.

“Keep the rest.”

“Are you sure?” You struggle to your feet.

“We have no use for it since it cannot work on Unseelie. It wouldn’t work on us even if we desired it. It is supposed to work on humans, and although you are not one, it doesn’t hurt to try,” He glances at your bag sitting on the bench, grabbing it. “I will leave this outside your room.”

“Thank you.”

He looks at you. “I am doing this for your own good, you see it, no? It is destiny, just as it was for us to meet you, for San to die. It all was supposed to happen.”

“You believe in destiny?” You raise your brow. “You seem like the last person in your whole house to believe in it.”

“All faeries do,” Mingi shrugs. “It is fate for us to meet, just as it is for you to come to your city, to leave your partner, to be out here with me now. Even as we speak it is words that were already ingrained within us.”

“Makes it feel like we don’t have freedom of choice.”

His brows furrow. “How so?”

“If it is all predestined, how could we decide how things go? How this all ends? Why even try when we are forced along a linear path?”

“Ah…” he nods slowly. “You still have the simple mind of a human.”

“Doesn’t answer the question,” you frown.

“I said it is all fate, but I didn’t say that fate is linear. Each path we take is what we choose, but it is fate that brings us together, just as it is fate if we are brought apart. But that is too difficult for you to comprehend now.” He looks at you strangely. “How are your wrists?”

You look down, finger brushing against the forgotten wounds. It isn’t welted like before, but it’s scarring over, a deeper color contrasted against your skin. You’ve all but pushed that experience from your mind, too tortuous to dwell on amongst everything else. “I haven’t thought of it.” You admit, glancing at him. “Too many things going on right now for me to cry about something like this.”

His eyes rest on your wrists, before glancing away. “I pushed you farther than need be today. I overestimated how much strength you have in this human form.”

“I understand.” There’s an apology between his words, somewhere. You glance at his back. The pure horror that crossed Wooyoung’s face when he saw it in the imprisonment. Your quick glance was enough to see that it was painful. Horribly so.

“Are you okay?”

He furrows his brows, “I told you I was fine before.”

“No, I mean,” you hesitate. He closed off when Wooyoung questioned it, there’s no doubt he’d do the same to you. But you cannot help but try. “Your wings, your back. Are you okay?”

His eyes widen only minimally before resting. “Fine.” His steps are fast, not waiting for even a moment to hear what you have to respond. You stare at the potion in your hand, thoughts scattered. Perhaps he does care, in his own strange way.

Later that night, you find a small bag containing a potion hanging on the doorknob to your room with a scrawled note. The loneliness feeling shifts as you read it.

For your wrists. -M

—

Your gaze is unable to shift from your hands. Numb, cold from the breeze escaping through the gaping hole in your room. It's partially boarded up, a box of nails and wood slacks resting beneath it. Humorous given the situation – you don’t doubt the faeries you reside with have some sort of fix it spell on their roster. But you've insisted on doing it yourself. Splinters dig into the tender skin, your thumb rubbing against the risen surface. It is not enough to make you feel half of what the others felt, but it helps. You press your thumb into the small wooden splinters, pain ringing your nerves as you bleed.

Your new door flings open, nearly breaking off its hinges. You flinch, moving away from the sound. Hongjoong stands there, gaze scanning the room swiftly before resting on you. The once cocky Unseelie looks oddly haggardly, skin oily, hair no longer neatly styled. As if he just awoke from a slumber, clothing barely thrown on his figure. He sighs, fingers pinching his nose.

“You are not hurt.” He murmurs.

You raise your palm to him, before dropping it, picking up the tweezers near you. “Nothing a few hours of picking at my skin wouldn't fix. You almost broke my door, by the way.”

“I smelled blood.”

There's a light film of blood on your palm, but it's barely a teaspoon. “The wood pricked me.”

“Could you be even a bit more careful, kumiho?”

You laugh dryly, “No demonic creatures breaking through the walls again, if you were worried about that.”

His oddly concerned expression soon disappears. He grips your doorknob, ready to swing it back into its place. Just before he closes it, his eyes flick to you. “Caring for yourself shouldn't be such a feat.”

“It was a mistake, that’s all,” you murmur.

“Why lie? Remember where you are and what has happened. Unseelie may not care as Seelie do, but an ounce of sympathy would work wonders.”

The door shuts. You watch as the knob drops from its place, rolling against the wooden floor.

—

Your existence is not forgotten in the room. Body cemented into the loveseat as the discussion, fingers brushing against the potted plant San once cared for. Their words are heated, speaking in a language you cannot understand aside from names. Yeosang is not in the room as you predicted. Seonghwa paces back and forth, arms gesturing wildly, pointing at you every so often. Wooyoung’s tempered voice responded with a bit of annoyance, his presence far away from you not unnoticed. In fact, it seems that Jongho is the only one who could even stand your presence, passing you a novel before sitting on the armrest of your chair.

“Death is something we cannot overcome by merely forgetting it,” Hongjoong’s words ring, speaking in a language you can understand, looking at you briefly. Seonghwa does not attempt to hide the annoyance in his expression. “We must do something, or others may think we are weak.”

“They can try,” Yunho says, leaning against the archway. “Their attempts will be in vain.”

“Them trying is what I am actively avoiding.”

“We are Unseelie, Hongjoong. Someone attempting to take over happens every few centuries. They have likely found out about San’s death already, and Wooyoung being taken. It is only a matter of time before a group enters the meeting place. And they have questioned her presence already,” Seonghwa looks at you. “She should be removed.”

“And taken by Seelie? Is that the wisest thing to do?” Hongjoong scowls. “Once she is able to use her abilities without forgetting and they have control of her, we will all die.”

“She has already caught the attention of Lilith. We must kill her then.”

Your hand stills on the leave your brushing against, turning to Seonghwa. His back is facing you as he says it, waiting for Hongjoong to reply. He’s greeted with silence instead, a loud sigh escaping his lips. “What use does she have to live? We remove any chance of her growing to learn her skills and killing us, or leaving and finding herself in the hands of another group of fae. It is the best solution.”

“You would allow San’s death to be in vain, Seonghwa?”

All of you turn to the voice. Yeosang’s hands grip the doorway, eyes narrowing as he stares at him. Though the Unseelie is far, you can see the glimpse of a knowing smile on Yunho’s lips. Seonghwa looks pained as he meets his gaze, a slight step forward. “Yeosang.”

“Answer me.”

“It is the best solution.”

“You have not answered.”

“San would see reason in my choice if he were in my shoes.”

“You have endlessly criticized Hongjoong for his choices and yet make a selfish one of your own.”

“I am thinking of us. I have always thought of us. How can you not see that? Why don’t any of you see it? All because of this… thing?” He points at you. “It’s my fault for not killing her in the beginning. I allowed all of this to happen. We would have already moved on from this town, far away enough that even the thought of her would never be. But I have accepted that I made a bad decision. I wish that you all accept my words when I say keeping her around is a bad decision.”

Hongjoong shakes his head. “San’s death is not yours to take blame. It is not that simple-”

“I don’t want to see any of you die again.” The angst in his voice is palpable, strained. He grips the table near him, eyes glued to the floor. “I want you all to live. Please, please consider this. I won’t ask for a vote because I know where it would lead. Just, please.”

Hongjoong’s hand reaches out to touch his arm, but Seonghwa pulls it away from him harshly. “I’m tired of having these pointless fucking meetings when everyone dismisses my words. I am tired of it all. Do what you want, I don’t care anymore.” He leaves, shoulder harshly pushing through Yunho’s body as he exits.

Yunho reaches out a hand as Yeosang stumbles, murmuring words you cannot understand in his ear. He nods slowly, reaching an arm around his neck. The height difference is steep, but close enough for Yunho to help him out of the room. The others seem to leave not too long after, Hongjoong standing in the same spot once it's just the two of you left. The idea of being alone with him is uncomfortable enough that you begin to follow the others out. Until he speaks.

He never quite shuts up.

“We’re not killing you,” Hongjoong says. “We’ve decided on that already.”

“I feel so much better now that you say it,” you mumble. “I don’t fault Seonghwa for wanting to get rid of me. You’ve all been through so much since we’ve known each other.”

You exit the room, the soft steps of Hongjoong not too far behind. You expect him to stay behind when you walk outside, but he follows well. You stop walking, turning to look at him. “What?”

“I wouldn’t be able to kill you,” Hongjoong explains. “Many of them may hate me if I arrived without you with me. But if you made the decision on your own, it would be no fault of mine.”

“You want me to kill myself?”

“No,” he says after a moment. “I still cannot find the reason for their fascination with you. But I do not want that. Do you want to die tonight?”

You’ve been brave. Leaving them behind once before, dealing with that Seelie before San came to save you. Before, you thought you’d be able to survive without them by your side. But now? Even with the weapon that Mingi gave you, doubt settles within you. Your eyes flick up to the house. To the barely boarded up hole on your porch.

“No.”

“Then why are you not trying hard enough in your training? You have overcome danger before – we all saw the aftermath ourselves. Or, maybe…” he pauses, a strange look crossing his face. “Maybe your body knows that it is not a life threatening emergency, enough so that you would show your true form. Perhaps you just need a push.”

Hongjoong’s hand grips your arm, dragging you deeper into the forest. “I can test it now.”

“What the hell are you doing?” You grip his hand, but it is in vain. His nails dig into your skin as he pulls you, your pace struggling to keep up to the quickness of his. His gaze is lost as he paces through. “Hongjoong this isn’t funny.”

“Unfortunately I’m not trying to be humorous,” he glances down at you. “I will need to attempt to kill you in order to see if it works.”

The forest begins to dwindle, and soon you hear the sound of waves. You’ve been out in this area with Soobin before, know that your town rests near large cliffs. You visited it more often than not, standing at the treeline as you looked out into the ocean. He drags you to the edge, ignoring your pleas. Your hand digs into his sleeve, begging him to not do this. To realize what he's doing is wrong.

“Hongjoong please,” you say desperately, voice hoarse. He grabs your hand, ripping your grip off.

“I don't want you to die,” he says softly. “But this… this could help. This could show us your true potential, y/n. Don't you see it?”

Your name rolls off his tongue like a curse. The word is strong enough to stun you for a brief moment. But just the pause in time for him to dangle you over the ledge. His gaze is far gone, his free hand brushing against your cheek. Black pupils stare back at you, his brown hair a sheer white. His touch grows colder and colder as he touches your cheek, hums echoing around the forest. You grew unafraid of them all since you've been with them for months – thinking that your life was safe enough. But the blank gaze of his, the eerie tune that falls from his lips, it is not caring. It is not human.

“The others will know.”

“They will forgive me once you come back alive.”

“This isn't humane–”

“Neither of us are humans, kumiho. We do not need to follow the morality of human law. Can't you see it? I'm saving you. This is me saving you.” His lips brush across your cheeks, indecipherable Latin whispered into your ear.

He lets go.

#fic: wonderwall #ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst

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iliketangerines · 5 months ago

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Can you write a scenario where Smoke and his significant other are on a walk, spending time together but they both get attacked and Smoke does both of his fatality kills on the attackers, leaving the reader terrified because it's the first time they've seen someone get killed and Smoke calmed down, feels guilty and comforts the reader?

a gentle killing

a/n: i've been staying up too late lately...ugaghhg

pairing: tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of violence and blood

he really shouldn’t be looking for you, shouldn’t be meeting you, shouldn’t even be thinking about you, the sweet baker in the small village near the Shirai Ryu base

but when he had gone down to satisfy and ache of a sweet tooth and try to forget about the stress of leaving the Lin Kuei and starting the Shirai Ryu, he had walked into your bakery that was

and then there you stood behind the counter, happy and warm and so cheerful, the scent of fresh bread and lots of cinnamon wafting inside the cutesy little store

he had taken a seat after ordering and stared out the window, a heavy exhaustion settling into his bones, and then you had brought his food over with a tea he hadn’t ordered

you winked at him and told him it was on the house, he looked troubled and you wouldn’t want to add onto the stress anymore than you had to

that was the first step in falling for him, and then he had actually tasted the small cake he had ordered and by the elder gods, it was perfect and warm and moist in just all the right ways

Tomas startled as you plopped down in front of him, asking how he was doing and you tilt your head at him with a warm smile as you observe his stature

it the beginning of the end with how cheery and open and talkative you were

he started coming every week, buying him, Kuai Liang, and Harumi some pastries, but mostly it was to see and talk to you

and he always made sure to come in on the least busiest of times so that you would have time to talk and chat and flirt as you boxed up his order and handed it over to him

somehow, Tomas always managed to find an excuse to keep talking to you after you had given him his order, but you never waved him off or told him you were busy

sometimes, you would invite him behind the counter as you cleaned everything up, checked on the pastries cooking in the oven, planned out new pastries to bake with Tomas by your side

it was pleasant company, and he found himself falling for you hard, smitten with your every word and your cheerful voice and the soft curves of your body

you were so different from his life back at the Lin Kuei and even the Shirai Ryu, tough jagged, and hard lines that allowed for no mistakes

no matter how often Tomas fumbled over his words or how he stuttered when he talked to you, you didn’t care and always encouraged and waited for him

when you had invited him to the back after hours of the store and taught him how to make cupcakes, it had been a disaster

still, you didn’t laugh at him and said that everyone started somewhere before helping him clean everything up and then close up the shop

he hadn’t even realized it was a date until a week later when he heard you bring it up in front of one of the customers and referred to the activity as one

you shot him a wink and a smirk, and Tomas nearly melted into a puddle right then and there

after that, he came down every weekend to hang around the small bakery, very much abusing his privileges as one of the founders of the Shirai Ryu to come down so often

of course, he still kept up with his trainings and still taught the initiates and still helped Hanzo out with his own movesets

but every other minute of the day, he thought of you, your lips, your eyes, your hands

Tomas finishes walking down the mountains and finds you in your bakery, the lights still on but the shop closed for cleaning

he walks in nonchalantly, and your voice rings out from the back, saying that the shop was closed and to come back in tomorrow

his voice rings out in the empty store, and he can hear you let out a small gasp and then your head pops out from around the corner as you wave at him

you beckon him to the back, and he gladly listens to your orders and sees you hanging up your apron and washing your hands

slinging your bag over your shoulder, you turn off the lights to the kitchen and hook your arm with Tomas’s, saying that the pastries you wanted to give him were at your house

it was a new recipe, and you had to get him and his friend’s opinions

the lock clicks in place, and you pocket the key and complain to Tomas about the long day that you’ve had, that one of the customers in particular had been rowdy

he nods and listens along, staring at you with adoration as he walks you to your place underneath the pale moon

but it’s silent, sure the town was quiet as the moon rose into the sky, but there was almost always a constant murmur in the background from the houses

today, there is no noise, and Tomas forces himself to tear his gaze away from you and survey the surroundings

there’s movement in the corner of his eye, and Tomas hastily lets go of your arm to stop an attacker from stabbing him, their eyes ablaze with fury

they hiss at both you and Tomas, calling out something, and suddenly several more attackers come out wearing Lin Kuei colors

panic sings through Tomas as he pushes you behind his back, and you seem on the verge of tears as you clutch your bag tighter to your chest as you eye the sharp weapons

you’re just a civilian, never supposed to be caught up in this mess, and Tomas had dragged you into it by making you a part of his life

he lets out a breath, putting on the mask of indifference and years of training comfortably settles into his bones as he lunges forward

it’s quick and fast and brutal, blood splattering along the sidewalk and grass, and thunderclouds rumble up ahead as the first few drops of rain drip onto his face

no matter, the pounding water and dark growls of the clouds hide the pained grunts and shouts of the soldiers as Tomas disposes of them quickly

the batter is over faster than he can comprehend, and he heaves in breath, water cooling his body and washing away the blood on the sidewalk to somewhere else

he follows the trail of washed away blood, and you stand there shivering, frozen, terrified of the man before you

Tomas holds his hands up, trying to convey he wasn’t a threat to you, and you don’t move even as he hooks his arms with yours and guides you back to your home

you don’t speak, cry, or scream as Tomas unlocks your front door and guides you inside and finds a towel in your bathroom to hand to you for drying yourself off

he pulls his cellphone from his pocket and calls up Kuai Liang, telling him that he’s been attacked by the Lin Kuei and their bodies needing disposing

when he turns back to you, you’ve wiped the water from your skin and have changed into something drier, but you wrap the towel around you tightly as you stare at him

there’s no noise in the room, just the sound of the murmuring rain outside, until he breaks the silence and says that he apologizes for tonight

you nod and ask who he is, and Tomas grimaces and settles onto your couch, beckoning for you to sit down next to him

you obey slowly, curling up in the furthest corner of the couch away from him, and something pangs in his heart as he slowly starts to explain who he is and why those people were after him

as he finishes explaining, he waits for your answer, waiting for you to reject him and tell him this wouldn’t work out

if that happened, he would have you sign a contract swearing your silence, and he would never see you again like this, so intimate and close

the seconds tick on as you don’t answer, and finally, you stiffly stand up from your spot and walk over to the fridge, pulling out that familiar box of pastries

you tell him what you always do, if something was wrong with the taste, that he tells you, and then you playfully add on to not kill you if he didn’t like something

there’s a weak smile on his lips, and Tomas smiles back at you, setting the box to the side and saying that he swears that he’ll make it up to you

he brings your hand up to his lips and gently kisses the back of your fingers, and your face warms and your eyes dart away as a genuine smile creeps upon your lips

Tomas swears he would make it up to you, protect your village from the Lin Kuei and protect the careful existence you had carved for yourself here

he would protect you

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temis-de-leon · 7 months ago

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Day 11 - "You're safe/alive" kiss

Characters: Simeon x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: MC is vomiting, but I'm not going into detail with that because it's fuckin nasty. MC is a people pleaser, kinda, established relationship

Whoever saw him running down the street must've thought a tragedy had happened, but if he was being honest with himself, that could've very much been the truth.

He felt his heart beating its way up his throat and cold sweat covered his skin in a sticky blanket, no doubt a result of his speed and his fear. He didn't care about the people around him, laughing at his discomposure, the only thing on his mind was Solomon's urgent voice and the sounds of MC’s distress in the background during the phonecall.

Simeon prayed Luke wasn't there to witness the scene.

Purgatory Hall never felt so remote, so out of his reach. The image of their body twitching in pain filled the insides of his eyelids and no matter how hard he shook his head, the horrible display wouldn't disappear.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he saw the familiar building and rushed inside. The sorcerer was waiting for him with a worried frown and Simeon wasted no time in grabbing his shoulder with more force than necessary and leaning over him with darkness surrounding his figure.

“What did you do?” he demanded, earning a surprised expression.

“I didn't know this could happen! I thought it came out perfectly fine!”

Solomon was being sincere, he knew, but that didn't stop his heart from shimmering in anger.

Not wanting to aggravate himself further or make his friend feel more guilty than he already was, Simeon left him behind and went straight to the bathroom.

He found them sitting on the floor, head completely hidden inside the toilet seat. The ceramic muffled their pained moans and their heaving, but they were audible enough for his stomach to churn in pity.

“Oh, my love” he sighed, rushing towards them and kneeling by their side. “How can I help you?”

MC tried to lift their head, tears in the corner of their eyes and some of them already running down their cheeks, but they couldn't say anything before gagging again and emptying whatever was left in their stomach.

Simeon pouted in frustration and guilt, not knowing what to do, before finally grabbing with gentleness whatever hair fell on their face and putting it out of the way.

A few minutes later, when MC couldn't do more than breath heavily and shed some tears, he traced the shape of their jaw and tried to get up.

“I'll bring you a glass of water, okay?”

But they wouldn't let him leave, desperately grabbing his forearm. They looked like they were afraid of turning away from the toilet and vomiting all over him, but Simeon wasn't even sure if there was anything to vomit at all.

So he stayed there, dragging his fingernails up and down their back, shushing in a comforting manner when it was due and holding their hair up.

“It didn't look bad” they explained in a choked sob “It almost looked normal”

MC cried, finally finding themselves stable enough to lay down on the tiles of the floor in search of cold. Simeon immediately got up and moisted a handtowel, smiling in relief when his partner closed their eyes in mild relaxation.

“I thought I'd be okay because it didn't have a flavor, but I was wrong. I was so so wrong”

Their bawling became too painful to hear, so he hugged their waist, lifting them up until they could rest their back against the wall, and pressed the washcloth a little firmer.

“You know you shouldn't eat his cooking, my love, why did you do it?”

“He looked so happy!”

MC continued crying, sobbing against his shoulder and grabbing his tunic in a fist, but it seemed their pain and their nausea finally subdued.

Smiling in pity, Simeon brought them closer and softly kissed their temple.

They'd be fine.

Solomon would not.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @beatlebeesstuff @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #simeon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

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lostbookmark · 14 days ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Whispered Vows Masterlist here

Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.

Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family Dynamics, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Yoongi Overworking Himself, Reader Just Needs To Speak Up.

A/N: I know I just posted chapter 5, but I'm in a good mood. Here is chapter 6.

Chocolate cake is perfectly moist, raspberry filling a touch too tart. You write down your thoughts on the provided worksheet the bakery supplied you after you swallowed the chocolaty goodness. You have been looking forward to your cake tasting for weeks now. Now, as you sit at the table with ten beautiful cupcakes before you, it just feels empty. Your eyes turn to look out the window and see Yoongi pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of the bakery while on the phone with Namjoon, running his hand through his hair. He promised that he would help you with this, but once again, here he is working. Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You just wanted this one day with him, and he couldn't even give you that.

Reaching out, you grab the next sweet confection, cut into it with your fork, and take a large bite. Vanilla cake is moist and sweet, lemon curd filling has a perfectly smooth texture, and vanilla buttercream is not too sweet. Favorite by far. You place your pen back down and sigh as you swallow that bite. You look at Yoongi through the window again and see him hang up the phone before entering the bakery. Sitting next to you, he opens his texts, and you see him message Hobi something. Your eyes drift back to your notes, and you think you might go with the vanilla.

“You can go,” you tell him softly while still focused on your paper but not really reading anything. You just wanted to make sure your handwriting was neat and legible. This would be a nice little keepsake.

“Hmmm,” he says, still looking at his phone as his fingers fly across the screen. His face is scrunched in pure concentration as he rereads what he just typed. “What? What did you say?”

“You can leave,” you say louder, looking at him, and his head finally snaps to you. “You clearly don't want to be here, and I don't want to force you to be here. You can go.”

“I took the day off to be here,” he tells you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why would you say that? You know how hard it is for me to make time for anything right now. We should be lucky that I am even here right now.”

“You took the day off? Did you really?” You question him and sip on your water that was provided to you to cleanse your palate.

Yoongi hasn't touched his water nor his worksheet. He probably hasn't even looked at the cupcakes that the baker worked hard on. The beautifully piped buttercream and colorful fruits and chocolate pieces were probably not appreciated. You appreciated them.

“I'm right here,” he argues and touches his chest with both of his hands to prove the point that he is indeed there. "I'm sitting right next to you."

“No, you're not,” you whisper. His phone rings again, with Namjoons name popping up on the screen.

“There is something wrong with our software at the studio. We lost a bunch of files,” he explains, gripping his phone tightly when the ringing stops. “You just don't understand. This is really bad.”

“I understand,” you tell him, nodding your head. “I do, I get it, and I said you can go.”

“It's not like I wanted this to happen,” he argues a bit too loudly, causing the bakery staff to look over at your table out of curiosity. You want to shrink away from embarrassment at their stares, and he quickly changes his tone. “We just lost weeks if not months of work,” he said much more softly. “All this time that I had to be at the studio, working all those long hours. It was all for nothing.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach as he starts getting texts in rapid succession, his phone continuously chiming. It rings so loud in your ears. You're tired. You haven't felt this tired in a long time. Not since that night you thought he was cheating on you. You're tired of dealing with this wedding and making these damn choices. You're tired of worrying about him. You're tired of sleeping alone at night. You're tired of being patient. You're tired of being tired.

“Yoongi,” you say and take a deep breath. “Please leave.”

“That's not fair,” he said. “This isn't my fault that this happened.”

“I…I don't care. I want you to leave,” you tell him as you turn back to the baked goods and take the card in front of the next dessert. Chocolate cake, salted caramel filling, and chocolate buttercream. “This experience is ruined. I'm just going to choose a stupid cake that you don't give a shit about and be done with it.”

“Y/N,” he says your name softly.

You ignore him and take a bite of your next pastry. Picking up your pen, you get ready to make your notes. Yoongi’s phone rings in the background, and you can hear him swear. Cake is a little crumbly. The filling is delicious with the right amount of saltiness, and buttercream could be a little sweeter. You can hear him sigh loudly before he gets up from the table and walks out of the bakery. You breathe deeply through your nose and blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears that threaten to fall.

“Is everything okay over here?” The owner and head baker asks as she approaches the table quite cautiously.

“Yes,” you say, giving her a small smile. “I'm ready. I think I have decided.”

“Oh, perfect,” she says and claps her hands together lightly. “I'll go get my tablet. We will get you ordered and get you scheduled on the calendar.”

Your smile drops as she walks away. You are such a liar. You are not ready. Not even in the slightest.

“I'm calling the wedding off,” you say as soon as the door opens.

“I'm sorry….WHAT?” Jisoo says clearly in shock. You push past her and enter her apartment, making your way to her couch where you collapse face first into the cushions in exhaustion. “I think that I heard you wrong. Please say that again and maybe more slowly.”

“No,” you said, your voice muffled by the cushion. You don't even bother looking at her. You know she is looking at you like you are crazy. “You heard me right.”

Jisoo sits on the floor next to the couch and moves your hair out of your face. She gently continues to stroke your hair in a comforting manner. You close your eyes and relax into her touch. She smiles sadly as she looks at you.

“I don't think you really mean that,” she tells you softly as she pulls her delicate hand away. You huff out a breath of irritation and sit up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest. “Tell me what's going on.”

“He's been so busy, and I don't see him that often unless I make the effort to go to his studio. Then, I just end up cleaning the studio for him. I finally got him to help me with the cake tasting, and work still came first. I don't know if I can live like this forever,” you tell her. “I don't know if I want to.”

“Have you talked to him about this?” Jisoo asks, moving from the floor to sit next to you on the much more comfortable couch.

“Not really,” you admit, shaking your head. “I just miss us. I miss how we used to be before he got all busy, and the studio became everything to him.”

“Relationships change,” Jisoo tells you. “You may have hit a small rough patch now, but is it worth throwing it all away? After everything that you have been through. Do you want to throw it away?”

“Sometimes, I look at you and Seungkwan or Lisa, and Jimin and I get so jealous. You get to go out on dates and sleep next to them every night. You get to have real conversations and homemade dinners,” you explain to her. “I get to go home to a frozen microwavable dinner and a television for a companion. Sometimes, it's like he doesn't even exist, and it feels like I'm back on my own again.”

The door to the apartment opens, and you see Seungkwan enter. You watch as he takes off his shoes and hangs both his coat and bag on a hook, protruding from the wall before entering the room. He spots you on the couch and gives you a contemplative look.

“Well, that explains it,” he says and walks away to the kitchen.

“What?” Jisoo asks her boyfriend. You can hear the refrigerator open and close before he walks back out with a bottle of water in his hand. “What explains what?”

“I needed something signed, and Yoongi…well…he was grumpier than normal when I went to his studio. He also, kind of…” he trailed off for a few seconds. “Looked like he had been crying. Maybe? Does he do illegal substances?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head at him.

“Then he was definitely crying,” Seungkwan confirms.

On one hand, your heart sank as the words Seungkwan just said sank in. Had he been crying? Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe you shouldn't have kicked him out of the bakery. You guess you probably could have been nicer about it. On the other hand, it just made you even madder. You were suffering too, and you still don't think that he cares. If he cared, he would have turned his phone off and stayed with you today. However, he didn't. He left. He left you there alone to order one of the plainest wedding cakes there probably ever was. He left in his car, leaving you to take the bus to Jisoo's.

“Can you please give us a minute,” Jisoo asks her boyfriend. Without a word, he walks down the hall and into the back of the apartment to the bedroom. You don't speak until you hear the bedroom door shut.

“Do you think….” You trail off in a small voice. “Do you think I should be getting married?”

Jisoo wraps her arm around you and pulls you down into her lap. She once again moves her hand to your hair and gently smooths it away from your face. She doesn't answer your question right away. It probably takes her a full two minutes before she finally speaks.

“I can't answer that,” she tells you, and it makes you clench your teeth in frustration. “I won't tell you not to marry him. It's okay to be jealous of me and Lisa and our relationships. However, I get jealous of you, too. The way that Yoongi looks at you, Y/N. Jimin and Seungkwan don't look at us like that. Yoongi looks at you like he would hang the moon for you. He would burn the world down for you.”

“I know he would,” you say as a tear drips down your face.

“If you don't love him, then I say don't marry him. If you do love him, then I say fight for him. You tell him how you feel and you fight,” she says seriously.

“I already told her to talk to him weeks ago, but no one ever listens to me," Seungkwan called from the back of the apartment. You and Jisoo start giggling and sit up to look at her. Her nosy boyfriend clearly had been listening to your entire conversation. “I would also hang the moon for you too, Jisoo.”

“Please don't tell Lisa about this. I don't need her saying anything to anyone,” You look at her, hold your pinky finger out. “Jimin loves gossip just as much as she does.”

“I won't. I promise,” she said softly and wrapped her own pinky around yours. “I promise.”

You checked the apartment first but you were not surprised when you found that he wasn't there. Now, you stand outside of his studio door, not sure if you should ring his doorbell or enter the code and walk in. You look up and down the deserted hallway before you slowly raise your forefinger and push the doorbell. Standing up straight, you wiggle your fingers that hang loosely at your sides as you wait for him to open the door. Your heart feels like it's going to pound out of your chest. You take a deep breath through your nose and slowly release it out of your mouth. Again…again…again.

“Y/N?” Jungkook says as the door finally opens and loud rap music flows out of the darkened room from the speakers.

You look over Jungkook's shoulder and see Yoongi look at you from his chair in surprise. His hair was disheveled and sticking up in all sorts of directions. He had changed into black track pants and an oversized white hoodie. They were both wrinkled, and the hoodie might be a little stained. You'll have to try and wash it for him later. Hopefully, you will be able to get the stains out. Yoongi stands from his seat and stares at you but doesn't say anything.

“Umm, can he and I have a minute?” You ask Jungkook, who still stands in the doorway. “Unless you're too busy.”

“NO!” Yoongi exclaims as he takes a few steps away from his chair. “Kook was just leaving.”

“Yeah, I was just leaving,” Jungkook agreed and nodded his head. “Everything is all set now. Have a good talk, bye.”

Jungkook practically runs out of the studio and down the hallway, nearly tripping over his own feet. Yoongi catches the door with his hand before it closes and opens it for you again. As you walk in, you notice that it was pretty cluttered with several discarded white styrofoam carryout boxes on his table and couch. A small pile of dirty laundry sat on the floor in the corner of the room. You can't even begin to imagine how long they have been there for. You know that you haven't been by in a while to clean up for him, but this was ridiculous. It even smelled a little bit, and it made you scrunch your nose as the stench hit you. Yoongi dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck as he caught your facial expression. Good, he should be embarrassed.

“Is everything…” you trail off and motion to his work space.

“Oh, yeah. We got the files back pretty quickly, thankfully. I hurried back to the bakery, but you were already gone.” he explains.

“Oh,” you say softly and continue to look at his mess.

“You weren't at home either,” he tells you, and your eyes went back to him. “I figured you probably went to Lisa's or Jisoo's.”

“Jisoo's,” you confirmed. “Seungkwan said he saw you today. He said it looked like you had been crying. Were you?”

“He's got a big mouth,” Yoongi snaps, turning away from you. He pushes his chair, and it goes rolling across the room before hitting the wall. It makes you jump just a tiny bit.

“Were you crying over me or the lost files?” You ask, crossing your arms.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He asks, turning back to you. “You think I would cry over work. Baby, I hurt you. I hurt you, and I took you for granted. You take care of me, you have been planning this whole wedding by yourself and I can't even do one damn thing for you.”

“Yoongi,” you say with a sigh and drop your arms.

“No, it's true,” he argues. “I don't even know why you are still with me. I would have left me a long time if I were you. Jungkook is even surprised that you're still here. Jimin tells me all the time that Lisa is worried about you.”

“Do you want to marry me? Be honest with me,” you plead.

“Yes, of course I want to marry you. I want nothing more than to be yours…forever,” he assures you.

"It doesn't feel like it,” you say, kicking a stray chopstick that was on the floor. “It feels like you don't care about the wedding at all. You’re always so busy.”

“Do you want me to quit? Make Namjoon buy me out so I can work some crappy, dead-end 9 to 5 job? Have us both worried about making ends meet? Working paycheck to paycheck?” He asks, throwing his arms in the air out of exasperation.

“Now you're the one not being fair, Yoongi. If you can't figure out how to balance your life with me and work, then maybe…” you say, but he immediately cuts you off.

“Stop right there,” he growls at you and points his finger at you. “Don't you dare finish that sentence. I am trying my best.”

“I don't know how much longer I can do this,” you tell him as you will yourself not to cry. You want to be strong. For once in your life, you just want to be strong and not run away to lean on someone else to help you. “If I knew how alone I would be all the time I….”

“Stop!” he says loudly. “Don't you think I get lonely too? Don't you think that I miss you? It's not easy to live like this. I get that!”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU JUST COME HOME!” You scream at him.

Immediately, you feel guilty for yelling. The two of you both stand there, glaring at each other, breathing hard. A large lump has formed in your throat, and your heart starts to race once again. The tension in the room is heavy and thick but not in a good way. It's never been this way between you two, and you don't know how to climb and claw your way out of it. The music in the studio changes over to something slower and almost melancholic. It feels fitting for this moment.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry. I'll clean up,” you whisper as you turn toward the messy couch.

“No,” he says, grabbing your hand, pulling you to him, and you let him. You don't want to fight him anymore. It hurts too much. Your heart hurts so freaking much.

Yoongi guides your hands up and around the back of his neck, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself right up against you. Yoongi buries his face into your neck, and you rest your own on his shoulder. He gently starts rocking the two of you back and forth. Dancing? Dancing to that slow beat pouring out of his sound system in the middle of his dimly lit studio. His arms and hands cling onto you as if you are his lifeline. Like he would drown if he were to let go of you. You lift your face and kiss the side of his neck softly, lips barely touching him. Yoongi pulls his face back and rests his forehead against your own. Your bodies are still gently swaying side to side in your own little world.

“Please, don't leave me,” he gently begs, “I promise I'll do better.”

“Don't make promises that you can't keep,” you say, looking right into his eyes.

“I promise,” he says again, leaning toward your mouth. You close the gap and gently kiss him on the lips. “Tell me to quit, and I will. Tell me to run away with you, and I will. Do you want to move to Paris? Our own little island? I'll make it happen. I would do anything for you.”

Jisoo was right. He would probably burn the world down for you.

“I know you will,” you tell him and lay your head against his chest. Yoongi rests his head on the top of your head. Your bodies still sway with the music. Dancing. Dancing in your own little world in the middle of his studio. “I know you will.”

Tagged Readers:

@mggv97, @granataepfelchen, @kam9404, @svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos, @notarshia, @busanbby-jjk

#bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi au #min yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts min yoongi #min suga #min yoongi #suga bts #suga fluff #suga bangtan #yoongi fic #yoongi #bts suga #suga #suga smut

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enhaheeseung · 1 year ago

Text

You’re my - L. Heeseung

Pairing: sub heeseung X dom fem reader!

Warning: smut, oral, hand job, public masturbation, degradation, cum swallowing, crying, cursing.

Genre: smut, pervert heeseung kinda not really.

WC: 2,296k

Note: this has been rotting in my draft for probably a year. It’s trash, but I figured I might as well post it.

Not where you thought you’d be after your class ended and the halls emptied, but somehow, here you were in the janitors closet with your hand tightly wrapped around your desk mate's painfully hard erection, leaking in desperation while you teasingly stroked it up and down.

Soft, pathetic whimpers fill your ears in the quiet room as you watch the boy in front of you panting feverishly with each twist of your wrist, eyes squeezed shut from embarrassment and tears threatening to spill past his eyelids.

His fists are balled tightly at his sides while his knees tremble and his hips jerk up from the floor when you run a thumb along his oozing slit.

He moans your name lewdly and quickly bites his bottom lip in an attempt to stop himself from sounding any more desperate, not to say that it would matter anyway cause the sweat covering his face and the subtle ruts of his hips told you just how needy he was. He can’t help but let out an airy breath when you trace the underside of his cock with your index finger and drag it all the way to his tip, adding slight pressure that causes a mousy squeak to fall from his red bitten lips.

“Y/n,” another moan of your name rips from his throat as his head falls back to rest on the wall behind him as constant waves of pleasure wash over him each time your palm encases his hot pulsating length.

“Spit,” you instruct him after taking your hand off his solid dick to hold it up to his mouth.

Immediately, he gathers a ball of saliva in his mouth and spits in your hand. “That’s a good boy” he looks your way, shyly meeting your gaze with his big round eyes cock jumping in excitement from your praise which makes you chuckle. He turns his head to the side, too embarrassed to look at you anymore.

“Aww, don’t hide now, baby. You weren’t embarrassed to touch yourself in class just a minute ago,” you tease.

He squeezed his thighs together, knees slightly brushing as he shuddered from your condescending tone. “I wasn’t,” he chokes out.

“Liar,” you gave him a harsh smack to his thighs, the sound bouncing off the walls followed by his whimpers that sounded out loud in the small space.

Unfortunately, he was lying, but he couldn’t help it when you looked so beautiful next to him, eyes trained on something other than him, hair in a bun slicked back to perfection, and the cute little bounce of your leg as you focused on the lesson but what really got him was the slight pout on your lips and the way your skirt rose up just an inch higher revealing a little more than usual.

He thought he was being sly, putting a hand inside his pocket to lightly stroke his aching length, and maybe he could have gotten away with that if it wasn’t for the tiny moans he allowed to escape his moist lips.

As you tried your best to focus, the sounds of what you could only identify as moans from the needy tone in them knocked you out of your engrossed state.

Once you turned in the direction of said moans, you were met with a drowsy-eyed heeseung staring at you. Lip stuck between his teeth as he was now rutting up into his palm unknowingly.

It took him maybe three seconds to pull himself out of his trance. He quickly shifted in his seat, tearing his eyes away from yours and panicking when he eyes the wet patch on his crotch.

His ears burned bright red with guilt, shame, and embarrassment. He would have left early, but he didn’t want not even one tarnish on his perfect student image, even if he felt like he couldn’t breathe after you just caught him touching himself right next to you.

You weren’t oblivious to the fact that the one and only Lee Heeseung had the hots for you. He made it obvious even if he didn’t notice, you definitely did. You couldn’t miss his constant stares or his stammering when he would present something and meet eyes with you halfway through his presentation.

As innocent as his eyes were, something not so innocent was behind them, and this was another thing you didn’t miss. How could you when he’d practically be drooling whenever you took notice of him not so discreetly staring at your tits?

Though all of the above was typical of him, you had no idea that he was shameless enough to literally masturbate right beside you in class while everyone was around and even had the audacity to moan, too.

Was it flattering that he couldn’t control himself around you to the point he had to rub one out at school?

Maybe.

He was an interesting character, to say the least his shy demeanor was definitely not one you were expecting. With his looks and brains, you’d think he’d be confident, but yet you always saw him in the hallways rubbing shoulders with the wrong crowd, pushing up the bridge of his classes, and kindly excusing himself from any outside interaction.

Yet even being shy, he was able to pull off the unthinkable by committing a very sinful act just mere inches away from you, and maybe interesting wasn’t enough to describe him as he sat on the floor with his palms over his face while you continued to berate him.

“If you were embarrassed, then why did you do it?” You returned your hand to his base, gliding up and down easier from the slickness that his spit provided.

“A-ah,” he tried to speak, but your firm grip on his shaft made it nearly impossible. His head was spinning with pleasure, and his skin was searing hot from your rough touch.

“That’s not an answer.” you let your other hand wander to the warmth of his balls, tugging on his huge sack.

“I don’t know,” whines fell past his now pouty lips as he felt himself getting closer and closer to tears.

“I think you do.” You stopped everything you were doing to him. “Cause you’re nothing but a naughty little slut”

That was it. His tears finally began to fall as his shoulders rose up and down with each sniffle and heavy breath. There was no way he could ever look you in the eyes again after this.

“And now you’re gonna cry? How pathetic,” you scoffed.

“Please stop.” his muffled cries just barely escaped past his trembling hands. His dick was soft by now, and as much as he didn’t want to look at you, he had to remove his hands from his face to pull his pants up and leave with what little pride and dignity he had left.

But of course, you had different ideas cause bad boys don’t deserve to be let off so easily. “No, no, no,” you gripped his wrists harshly and pushed them back to his sides.

His face was covered in tears and snot while he watched you with big, glossed-over eyes.

He hated himself for the moan he let out when you wrapped your hand around his soft length once again, and he wanted to just disappear when he got hard only after a few strokes. “Y/n,” he cried out from your brutal pace on his sensitive dick. “Please don’t stop, please.”

“See? You’re just a slut. Even after I talk down to you, you’re still begging me for more.”

There was no point in denying it any longer, but he still tried to hold out for his image sake, although he didn’t even know what his image would be after this, so he quickly gave in to you like he always did.

“Yes, yes, I’m nothing but a slut for you,” he admitted holding strong eye contact with you and raising his hips to fuck his cock into your hand. “I’m y/n’s dirty little slut”

You weren’t expecting him to even say that, but his desperation for you ignited something inside you that you’ve never felt before. You had to take a second to ground yourself, a silent curse passing your lips as you focused your attention back on him. “What if I don’t want you?” you tease while spiting on his tip to get him wet again. The squelching sound of your hand swirling around his dick was enough for a glob of wetness to dampen your underwear.

If you were being honest, you can’t say that you didn’t catch yourself checking him out sometimes and thinking about him romantically. He was beautiful anyone with eyes could see that, and it was hard for you to resist him with his equally beautiful cock pulsating in your palm. He already had you under his spell without even knowing it.

But right now, the swooning could wait cause he needed to be punished for being such a naughty boy. He could have easily just approached you in the first place like a normal person would, but instead, he acted like some desperate pervert, and you were going to show him the consequences.

His eyes flickered in panic from your words. “Anything, please, I’ll do anything, please, please, please.” he felt himself on the verge of tears once again, but not for the same reason as the previous time.

“Anything?” He nods frantically, a few moans coming from him from the warmth of your hand expertly pumping him closer and closer to his long-awaited release.

“Yes, anything, just plea- oh god!” He quickly cups a hand over his mouth after the particularly loud scream he just let out when your lips came in contact with his pinkish cock head.

You bite back a chuckle and suck more of his cock into your wet warm mouth.

“Oh fuck, fuc-“ he visibly gulps Adam’s apple rising and falling with each harsh swallow as he feels his throat drying up.

You release his cock marveling at the sight of it shining under the dim light, nice and slick from your saliva. “I just need you to scream my name as loud as you can. Can you do that for me, baby? Let everyone know that you’re my slut” he melts at the way you call him yours, and there’s no way he could ever say no to you, even if his life depended on it. You’d always come first.

You didn’t even let him respond before taking his dick all the way down your throat until his tip was lodged as deep as possible you nearly gagged each time his thick tip hit the back of your throat, but that didn’t stop you from bobbing your head faster and faster to bring the needy boy to his end.

Like the good boy he is, he screamed your name loud, and his moans were just as loud. You’re sure if anyone heard him, they would probably think he’s being tortured. Well, technically, he was just a different type of torture.

Taking his balls in one hand, you slid your other hand up his shirt, grazing his hardened nipples stimulating his erogenous zones.

You could feel his balls tighten in your grasp and his dick twitching against your lips, which was soon followed by a guttural moan and his hot white seeds trickling down your sore throat.

“Y/n” One last whimper of your name rolled off his tongue as his jaw went slack, cock throbbing with each rope of cum that spilled from his tip. He reached for you taking hold of your cheek in his palm while you sucked him through his orgasm until his balls were completely drained.

You kept him inside your mouth till he went limp. He stroked your cheek with his thumb feeling his heart hammering against his rib cage from the way you looked up at him with your beautiful eyes shining and slightly teary as you held his dick inside your mouth.

Finally, you pulled away with a quiet pop. His face scrunched in slight discomfort from the sensation, but it soon fleeted away after you placed a gentle peck on his sweaty temple. He smiled at you lazily as you tidied yourself up.

But soon, anxiety bubbled in his chest as he watched you tucking his cock back into his pants, and it only worsened when you pulled up his zipper. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, and he couldn’t take it.

The air was being sucked out of his lungs, or at least that’s what it felt like when you shut the door and left him all alone without another word.

He sat on the floor, tears already forming in his eyes as he thought about you just using him and not wanting him like you said you did earlier. He picked at his nails and stared at nothing in particular.

You went outside to check if it was clear. After a few minutes of waiting, you expected to see heeseung, but he was a no-show, so you peeked inside to see him still on the ground. “Are you coming or what?”

His head jerked up to the door as soon as he heard your voice. “w-what?”

“Come on before someone sees,” you whisper urgently.

“Coming!” He quickly wipes his tears and yanks up his bag, exiting the closet with you.

“Come on, my silly boy.” You ruffled his hair and unfortunately missed the beaming smile that graced his features, but it wasn’t so bad cause you’d be seeing that same smile every single day from now on.

Permanent taglist:®• @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @bunhoons @axartia @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @jayroseyy @bangchanhasbigfeet @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @hee-in @heesgirl @bambisgirl @heeaddict @heartandfangs @nyxtwixx @iamliacamila

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night💛

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dmitriene · 10 months ago

Text

THOUGHTS ABOUT JOHN PRICE IN A ROBE.

cw: fluff, comfort, flirting, pet names, reader working in delivery, male anatomy, slighty smug price pairing: captain john price x fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

delivering is quite difficult in the morning, the point is not in the number of possible traffic jams, but in the fact that from the very morning you have to quickly bake a batch of delicious buns, brew aromatic coffee, pampering your nose with a deep aroma even after a certain amount on the road, and then load all this in a basket on a bicycle so you can sit down and open your morning with the first delivery to the neighborhood closest to your cafe.

the path is not long, but it’s enough to see your immediate surroundings, a scattering of freshly green trees, evenly trimmed bushes and updated fences around the houses that you have come thousands of times already, greeting those who caught your eye, high-fiving the little guys who often ran to the cafe for bread, and now they ran to school, calling you loudly as you passed by, exclaiming in one voice — «lady from the cafe, lady from the cafe!», little devils still can't remember your name.

after a few minutes of listening to the asphalt under the rubber wheels crunching with small pebbles, the bicycle brings you to a rather spacious house, a light facade and a small porch, an evenly trimmed lawn, but a slightly more empty area than when a large family lived here, a sweet woman with her husband and two wonderful children, meek, sweet guys, only they moved away.

the house was put up for sale again quite quickly, and bought again just as quickly, only you didn’t have time to see by who exactly, and didn’t even hear any discussions, but today was a great chance, especially considering that he turned to your cafe for the delivery of delicious baked goods in the morning, it means the person is not just good, but also open to meeting people, and besides, the house is big, probably another big family buyed it.

and you quickly realized that you were mistaken when you left the bike at a small fence, carefully walking inside and climbing the threshold, before knocking a couple of times, for a while you are met with silence, you don’t hear much outside the door, but very soon quite heavy steps are heard and you intuitively straighten up, holding a bag of pastries in one hand, and in the other a stand with two large cups of coffee, slightly moving away from the front door when its handle is lowered and it opens slightly inward, to the side.

— «good morning! thank you for your order and welcome to our neighbor.. hood..» your babble comes out before john can fully open the door, and to be honest it hits his ears quite hard in the morning, but you quickly fall silent as soon as you capture the rich picture in front of you.

the olive colored robe is casually opened, exposing a muscular, but slightly soft looking chest, covered with thick, moist dark hair, which makes the sight seem even more intimate when your gaze involuntarily descends lower, where a path of even darker hair goes to the navel, following the wet drops, forming a happy trail that disappears where the robe is still tied with a satin, thin strap, hiding more intimate things, while the awkward, but somehow ringing silence drags on for too long.

john is the first to interrupt her, clearing his throat loudly, without even trying to hide his smile, which makes the corners of his lips stretch and raise his mustache, which he touches, looking into your eyes with a slight tilt of his head while he leans his body on the door frame, crossing his strong arms on his chest, the same hairs, somewhere you can see pale, years healed scars, and the muscles that intuitively tense and bulge out his wide biceps, obscuring the view of his chest and forcing your gaze to finally switch to blue, piercing eyes, warming from the inside just like the honey baritone of his voice when he speaks — «well, good morning to you too, miss?»

you finally fully come to your senses, masking your embarrassment with a friendly, bright smile — an incredibly good quality that comes to you after years of work, when you hand him a bag of pastries and his coffee, and he changes his position, stepping through the threshold barefoot a little closer to you, taking the packages carefully, before opening them slightly and sniffing the smell with curiosity, emitting a satisfied, chesty growl, saying — «smells bloody good, not surprised that everyone recommended your pastries»

you light up in response to an unexpected compliment, feeling proud of your own work, rushing to thank him heartily, as if with childish enthusiasm — «thank you, sir!», while he turns around to put the packages on the cabinet near the entrance, taking his wallet from there, hearing your respectful address and grinning under his breath, amused before adding — «john price, darling»

— «thank you, mr.price, then? nice to meet you» you say just as respectfully, tenderly, when he lets out a satisfied grumble, rummaging for a while presumably in his wallet before turning back, beckoning you with two fingers closer while he counted the bills, and you obediently walk in response to the gesture, stopping literally near him as he steals a glance at you, squinting into another warm smile that lifts his facial hair before john holds out a few comfortably rolled bills and you notice that something is wrong.

your fingers briefly touch his casually, shooting something warm and electrical through his body when you take the money, exchange a smile, but before you can leave you notice that he went too far, or rather, overpaid, and the amount is pleasantly large even for a tip, so you awkwardly, slightly meekly notice — «uhm.. you overpaid, mr.price», receiving only a short laugh in response.

john is clearly amused by your misunderstanding, your naive reaction to what he did more than on purpose, causing the wrinkles around his eyes appear endlessly from his smiles, and the corners of his lips to stretch the skin, hiding behind a grayish mustache, when the blue gaze catches yours, slightly confused, and his voice, almost a gentle purr, calms you down by half a beat — «a tip for you, darling»

you gasp, lips parting in an «o» shape as you giggle awkwardly, adding sheepishly — «o-oh! it's just.. the biggest tip i seen, so i thought.. thank you» before getting ready to leave, after all, the working day is just beginning, and there are a lot of orders ahead, despite the fact that you wouldn’t mind talking longer, take a longer look on him, even?

he just waves his hand slightly, brushing the situation off again from the pure amusement, before adding unexpectedly, so much so that the blush on your cheeks cannot be calmed down and it grows over your ears and neck, not avoiding his gaze, but he pretends not to notice, keeping silent about the amount of scarlet paint on your face, burning, exactly like the compliment he said so simply, even as if flirting — «that's for your pretty eyes)»

and you don’t have time to utter a word or an embarrassed squeak before he nods and, with a fleeting wink, goes back into the house, disappearing behind the threshold and the closing wooden door, closing it with a slight click that pulls you out of embarrassment, letting you sigh raggedly and absolutely discouraged, before rubbing your cheeks with the palms, as if trying to disperse the color, and finally unsticking yourself from the place, walking back to your bike, so far that there is only one thought in your head, an immodest desire — to see his playful smile, meet him again, and maybe… invite him for tea?

#.𐙚july's writings #john price x female reader #john price fluff #john price x f!reader #john price comfort #john price x reader #captain john price fluff #captain john price x reader #captain john price smut #captain john price x female reader #john price drabble #captain john price x you #john price cod #john price x you #john price fanfiction #captain john price fanfic #john price fic

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

The Man in the Death Cloak

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, public sex, fingering, smut, angst, violence, overstimulation, description of murder ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When he saw her among the crowd of masked figures dancing with this strange man, when he noticed his hand shamelessly placed on her naked back, when he noticed that they were conversing with each other between turns, flirting with each other, he thought at first that he would kill them both.

However, he changed his mind when he saw how, as soon as the music stopped, she left this brazen man, like a cruel, beautiful goddess laughing at his pathetic efforts, without even turning to look at him again, heading towards one of the tables.

He felt his manhood throb painfully hard in his breeches at the thought that she had done this to provoke him, that by the thought of him looking at them and what he would do to her she was already soaking wet.

He decided to find out, approaching her slowly between the chatting people, another dance began and the music echoed around him. He stepped behind her, grabbing the jug she was struggling to lift and filled the cup she held in her other hand halfway.

"Are you enjoying yourself, my Lady?" He asked lowly, trying to control himself and not think about the fact that he would gladly fuck her from behind on the table in front of him, taking what was due to him as king and husband.

"Yes, my Lord." She whispered softly, sweetly, her voice trembling slightly. He felt the way she said the words in his cock, which was twitching all over with impatience, he knew she recognised him.

"Dance with me."

She turned over her shoulder and looked at him, her lips parted in disbelief when she noticed that he was clad just like her father's guards, just like when she had met him for the first time. A smirk of satisfaction appeared on his face when he noticed in her dreamy eyes what he had suspected for some time.

She was so fucking wet.

Spinning with her among the couples, holding her shamelessly close to him, admiring her almost defiant gown exposing her naked body, her shoulders and back, everything that belonged to him, all he could think about was that he will fuck her in front of everyone.

She welcomed him inside her with ease, his cock sliding in and out of her with the sticky slap of naked flesh against flesh, her walls soaking wet − he could see that his manhood was all glistening and moist every time he slipped out of her.

He rooted into her with groans of pleasure, holding her by her throat, thrusts of his hips again and again stretching her tight, hot core, his place on earth, a delight meant only for him.

He glanced sideways, at the man standing in the distance againt the wall, at the fool who dared to dream of his wife, and was taken aback to see his hand slipped into his breeches, his gaze directed at her. His cock throbbed hard at the thought that he dared to imagine he was in his place, that he was fucking his wife.

"− look at him − he's fucking himself with his hand while looking at my wife − at my − fucking − wife −" He breathed out into her ear, thrusting into her in a frenzy of anger and pleasure, feeling her muscles begin to squeeze and suck him deep inside her.

He knew she was close, that she was about to come and completely soak his cock − he was twitching inside her with his every desperate, rough thrust.

"− you know he's already dead, don't you? − ah − would you want him to touch you before he died? − for him to root his cock deep inside you just for once? −"

"− n-no − your seed − I want it inside me −" She mumbled with her lips parted wide, panting and moaning with difficulty along with him, her eyes clenched shut. He thought with amusement and relief that she completely didn't care what the man did or wanted, that she only craved him, faithfully begging for his seed as any obedient wife should.

He felt a powerful shudder run through his body as her flesh shook with fulfilment, her walls clenching around him − he came inside her at last, filling her with himself, his face pressed against her hair, taking in her wonderful, familiar scent, her body trembling in his hands.

He released her and slid out of her with a loud splat of his cock against his lower abdomen, all wet from her moisture, his spend mingled with her wetness running down her thighs.

He covered this wonderful, ungodly sight with her gown, recognising with calmness that he was the only one who had a right to look at it, tied his breeches and then moved off disappearing into the crowd, leaving her alone.

He had all night to take care of her and explain to her exactly what he thought of it all.

The man he was hunting was just tying his breeches, wiping his hands in them, apparently wet with his seed − when he noticed him out of the corner of his eye he began to run away as if he had seen a ghost.

He felt like laughing at the sight, amused, taking his dagger, which he always carried with him, out from under his cloak, thinking that he was a mere deviant and coward, that he must keep her wife safe so that he would never worry her with his presence again.

He thought she would be grateful to him for this.

Before he killed him in one of the empty, dark corridors of the fortress, with only the rays of the night moon falling into it, he pulled off his mask and hood, wanting him to know who would take his life.

"− m-my King, I beg you − if I only knew, I would never −" The man mumbled, kneeling before him, shaking all over − he recognised in him up close one of his guards enjoying entertaining himself with female servants instead of concentrating on his work.

"− you touched my wife − you touched yourself watching me take her − painless death is too mild a punishment −" He said softly and calmly, playing with his dagger between his fingers, his blade flashing again and again in the starlight.

"− I beg you, my King, have mercy, send me away from the fortress, just don't kill me − I beg you, I will never look at someone's wife again, I will go to the monastery, I promise, please −" He exclaimed folding his hands as if to pray, as if to make him believe that now he would change, that from this moment on he would never again look at a woman who belonged to someone else.

In one swift, sure movement he slit his throat − his blood gushed onto him, soiling his coat and hands. He caught himself instantly by the neck, falling to the floor, coughing loudly, trying to catch his breath, a gurgling sound came from his mouth.

He grabbed him by his hair forcing him to look at him, and then stab after stab pierced his heart with his blade, slamming his dagger into his flesh like mad, thinking that if thoughts of his wife filled it, he had to destroy it and tear it to pieces.

"− only I have the right to want her − only I have the right to touch her − only I have the right to love her −" He growled in rage, after another stab of the blade the man's eyes rolled back, a huge pool of his blood surrounding them. He let go of him at last, his body fell with a thud to the floor, dead.

He wiped his dagger into his cloak and hid it, breathing loudly through his mouth, mouthful of the sight. He hummed quietly and stepped over him, heading towards his chamber, knowing that she was waiting for him there, bare and wet, that she would fuck him all night once he told her what he had done.

He held her by her hair, pressing her cheek against his bed as he pounded into her brutally from behind, their naked bodies slapping against each other loudly. She moaned and whimpered beneath him, after her third fulfilment completely losing touch with reality, their bodies sweaty from the exertion, his cock soaking wet from his spend and her moisture.

"− what is it? − my little wife has had enough? −" He sneered, speeding up, his other hand firmly squeezing her waist, rooting his cock into her with sure, rough, deep movements of his hips.

"− I − p-please − mghmm −" She mumbled wearily, her lips parted sweetly in a gesture of complete submission, her muscles clenching tightly against his and sucking him wonderfully at his words, his fat cock twitching hard inside her, close to the next fulfilment.

"− for what you've done I should pierce you through with my cock tonight − like I pierced the heart of that fucking bastard with my dagger − again, again and again −" He hissed, speeding up his pace, thrusting deeper into her with each of his words, their bodies slamming against each other faster and faster. She squirmed in protest clenching her hands on the bedding, her thighs quivering from overstimulation in his hand as he opened her weeping cunt on his cock.

"− no − fucking take it −" He growled low clenching his teeth not letting her escape − he heard her whine of pain and pleasure, another devastating orgasm shook her body, her core began to squeeze him from all sides. He sighed loudly and and threw his head back, closing his eye, coming inside her at last, panting hard.

"− that's it − just like that −" He cooed, delighted that as he rocked his hips inside her, little streams of his seed flowed out of her − she was so filled with him that it was leaking out of her.

He slid out of her with a sigh of satisfaction and tightened his fingers on her warm slit at once, not letting a drop of his spend go to waste.

It was all going to stay deep inside her and take root there, his legacy and proof that she belonged to him, to her husband.

He lay behind her with her on his side, still holding his hand between her thighs, the other stroking her hair, trying to soothe her, her whole body trembling in convulsions, her fingers tightening on his shoulder, needing his closeness and tenderness.

"− it's all right now − your King has forgiven you − forgiven you and filled you as any loving husband should do − hm? −" He hummed, placing loud, hot, moist kisses on her bare neck and shoulders, and she nodded, her hand sliding into his, pressing his fingers tighter against her womanhood.

"− I want it all inside me, husband −" She whispered fondly and he felt a wonderful thrill of satisfaction, licking his lips dried from exertion and emotion, swallowing loudly.

"− fear not, my dearest − your husband will make sure that nothing flows out of you −"

They fell asleep in the tender, tight embrace of each other's bodies, their legs and hands entwined, his cheek nestled against her hair.

He slept wonderfully peacefully that night.

It was also because the sarcophagus for his family in the vaults of the temple in which he was crowned, and under which his great ancestors lay, had finally been completed.

Lord Walford had buried his family in a mass grave beneath the keep − they had searched for their bodies for months, but without success. When he had almost given up hope, one of the servants reported an unpleasant smell coming from one of the kitchen cellars.

They had been buried without appropriate respect and he felt relieved to give their souls and their memory proper honour.

He rode on horseback in front of the gathered crowds behind a long procession of coffins amidst a chorus of monks, at once sombre and hopeful, at the very front on an ornate cart lay his father's coffin, followed by those of his mother, Aegon, Helaena and Daeron.

He rode behind them through the streets of the city − apart from the chanting of the monks there was complete silence, the folk looking at them with some kind of reverence, shouting his and his wife's name, calling them just.

He thought, as he followed them on their last journey, that when they were properly buried he would at last have peace, and they could be saved, no longer suffering any humiliation or pain.

They would be free.

He felt shame as his throat tightened at the thought, tears squeezed into his eye, his crown uncomfortable and heavy, weighing down on his head more than ever.

He was consoled by the snow lying around them; he had a feeling that the world was telling everyone in this way that their souls were pure, that the heavens were rejoicing with them today.

In front of the temple he dismounted from his horse, glancing at his wife who had settled down beside him, both of them shivering from the cold, knowing that there were still hours of service ahead of them.

She nodded at him indicating that she was ready, and he felt proud at the thought that, as always, she had stood by his side, witnessing the weakness that others had failed to see in his gaze, not allowing him to fall, to pull down his mask before those who might use it.

He prayed fervently, trying not to think like the others about the cold and the chill, his breath turning to steam in this gigantic stone temple, stopping from foot to foot, trying to warm himself in this way, thinking about what the priest was saying.

When at last it was all over, and coffin after coffin had been brought down to the proper sarcophaguses and enclosed in them, he closed his eyes and breathed loudly, feeling the enormous weight fall from his shoulders, he had the sensation of suddenly becoming astonishingly light.

He returned their reverence and honour.

By the time they returned to the fortress it was already dusk; when his wife informed him that she was tired and would go to bed already he simply nodded, massaging his temple, gazing thoughtfully into the flames, feeling still preoccupied by what had happened.

When he finally joined her bare, embracing her from behind he immediately sensed that something was wrong. She lay dressed in a thick nightgown, her body strangely inflamed and hot, and he had the feeling that she was trembling − he swallowed loudly touching his hand to her forehead, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

She had a fever.

"My love?" He whispered in a trembling voice, gently shaking her, looking at her terrified. "My love, wake up."

He heard her quiet, faint muttering; she tried to open her eyes but her eyelids immediately closed − she began to breathe through her mouth, her body quivering in his embrace, all aflame.

"I'm cold." She mumbled softly. He pressed his lips together, got up from their bed, quickly put on his nightshirt and breeches and opened the door, ordering the guards to summon a medic immediately.

A man entered his chamber after a few minutes − he was the same monk who had treated his wound when he was brought to their monastery as a child.

"She has a fever and is shivering all over." He told him, approaching the bed with him, trying to sound calm, − his voice broke at the end of the sentence, betraying his grief and desperation, his throat squeezed so tightly that he could not breathe.

It was only when his servants lit all the candles in his chamber and added fire to the hearth that he noticed how pale she was, her lips blue, her face flushed with sweat. The medic ordered her servants to be summoned to find out if anything had happened, at the same time placing cool cloths on her forehead.

"Has the Queen complained of anything, been troubled by any discomfort?" The old man asked, rolling up the long sleeves of his worn, old robe.

One of the girls swallowed loudly, looking at them with fear.

"The Queen came back frozen from the temple. She didn't have a coat or gown suitably thick for the weather, suitable for such a ceremony. The decision to perform the funeral was made suddenly and the dressmakers did not have time to sew a new garment for her." She mumbled out in a trembling voice, playing with her fingers, and he looked at her in disbelief.

He had made his decision as soon as his parents' bodies had been discovered, he hadn't considered what she thought about it and whether she needed to prepare for it, whether she had the strength to stand for several hours in the cold, whether she felt unwell and wanted to return to the fortress or hide for a while in the warm chambers of the monks.

He had completely forgotten about her, immersed in thoughts of his family, of those who had passed away, and now she was shivering with fever in his bed. He felt rage begin to boil inside him and licked his lower lip, breathing loudly.

"You let her go out inappropriately dressed?" He hissed, her servants looked at each other horrified, fearing that his reaction would end in death for them.

"Your Grace, we begged her, but she said she was choosing this gown and this cloak, that she would not bring shame to the King, that she must look proper on such an important day, we could not force her." Muttered the other one.

"You fucking fools! I'll hang each of you in turn as soon as…"

"− my King −" He heard her faint, quiet whisper, and looked at her − her eyes half-open, staring at him, her lips slightly parted in effort, her long black curls spread in disarray around her head.

He completely lost interest in his rage and what he was saying to them, approaching her quickly, sitting down beside her on their bed, grasping her hot hand in his.

"− I'm so cold − yet at the same time my body seems to be on fire −" She whispered with difficulty, as if each word she spoke cost her a great deal of effort.

"− you have a fever, my love − brother Albert will prepare a decoction at once, which you will have to drink − rest now −" He said tenderly, stroking her inflamed cheek, wet with sweat, and heard her sigh softly, hugging her face to his hand.

A moment later, her mother walked into the chamber, a long blue robe hurriedly put on over her nightgown, her hair tied in a long braid, her eyes wide, terrified.

"− my beloved child −" She whispered running over to her bed, sitting down across from him, stroking her hair.

They ordered the servants to leave − only he, her mother and brother Albert, who was preparing the medicine on his table, remained inside. He watched in thoughtfulness as her mother tenderly and carefully placed on her forehead and chest the cold cloths, previously soaked in the snow she kept in a basin on her lap, brought by the servants over and over again.

He turned impatiently, looking at the monk, who did not seem to be in a hurry despite the fact that every second was precious.

"− how much longer? −" He asked roughly, the man, however, seemed not at all bothered by his warning tone.

"The onions need to release their juices after being sprinkled with sugar, it takes a while. I also brew a tea of lime leaves, chaste and sage, and add a little garlic, honey, pepper, lemon and ginger. It is necessary to support her body from within, to burn out the plague that has taken hold of her body. A fever is a sign of struggle." He said calmly, squeezing a garlic clove with the side of the knife blade, crushing it into a mush, dropping it then into the cup.

After a few minutes he added the rest of the ingredients and stirred it thoroughly − that smell of it all was foreign and unpleasant, but he trusted him and prayed that it would work.

Brother Albert approached their bed and ordered her mother to help her up to a sitting position so that she would not choke.

"− the Queen must drink this immediately −" He said calmly − her mother took the cup from him, with his help lifting her weakened body higher on the pillows, putting the cup to her lips. She lifted her eyelids slightly, semi-conscious, breathing with difficulty.

"− drink, my sweet child, it will help you −" She said warmly, tipping the contents of the goblet. She took a hard sip and began to cough, shaking her head, shuddering all over, moving away.

He pressed his lips together, breathing hard, furious.

"Leave us alone. Both of you." He said coldly, her mother looking at him in shock.

"I will not leave my child."

"Get out, woman."

She swallowed loudly hearing his tone of voice and stood up slowly, telling him to change the clod cloths every few minutes, handing him the cup in her hand, disappearing after a moment with the monk behind the door.

He sat down next to his wife and squeezed her cheeks in his free hand, forcing her to open her mouth.

"Drink, or I swear I'll force it down your throat." He growled, putting the goblet to her lips. She shook her head, flinching at the smell alone, close to tears, her vision clouded.

"− please −" She whined out like a small, terrified child − he wasn't sure she knew where she was or what was happening to her.

However, he was unable to sympathise with her or express his understanding; all he could think about was that he was terrified, that if anything happened to her he would fall into complete madness and kill everyone around him, including himself.

"− drink − that's an order − you are to obey your King and husband −" He said in a cold, impatient voice, tilting the goblet and holding her tightly so that she couldn't break free even though she tried. She began to swallow it loudly, tears trickled from her eyes down her cheeks, a quiver of terror and disgust came from her throat.

"− just like that − just a little bit more − my good, obedient wife −" He gasped as he tilted the cup all the way down and the last drops spilled out − she cried out loudly as he let go of her cheeks, turning her face away from him, trembling and despairing.

"− shhh, my sweetest − I know −" He hushed her, applying to her forehead the ice-cold piece of cloth he had sunk earlier into the bowl of already melted snow, her whole body quivering.

He covered her tightly with the furs, slipping under them beside her, wanting to warm her with his own body as well, and embraced her, nuzzling her hot cheek into his chest. He swallowed loudly feeling her tremble all over, breathing hard through her mouth, knowing he wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep that night.

"− am I dying? −" She asked quietly in a shaking, terrified voice.

He felt a tightness in his throat at her question, leaned in and kissed the top of her head with tenderness, with devotion, with love.

"I am Death itself, my sweet wife −" He whispered low, at the same time with warm affection and dark coolness, stroking her hair with his hand. "− and I assure you that you will not leave this world before me."

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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reasaph · 3 months ago

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"I don't believe in God, but I believe that your my savior."

Soshiro Hoshina x Suicidal Fem Reader!

Summary: (name) a person with no beliefs, no reason and will to live gets hospitalized after another attempt. There, she meets hoshina soshiro and she's been looking forward to waking another morning since.

TW:mention of death, reader got hospitalized for attempting, mention of bedrotting.

Title is from the song "sailor song" by Gigi Perez!

Part 2!

You and Soshiro talked for hours, the cans of the coffee he's got you both long forgotten and moist. To say they were the most comfortable hours of your life wouldn't be an exaggeration. Your sure hes got you hooked. Humbly, you ask anyone; be it fate or any god. You wish, you beg, you 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺 to whoever in charge to extend the hours with him. One minute more to bask in his presence, thats it. You've never desired something so much that you decided to pray. That was something you never thought you'd do. You didnt dwell your whole personality on just a mere belief. But he's got you on your knees, hands claspped with eyes screwed shut, asking for another more minute.

"So so, what d'ya do you think the doctors here do on their free time?" A silly and deranged question. From the short time you'd spend with him, not even a day Long, you had keeped count of those incoherent questions of his. You dont know if he was doing it On purpose, but those questions are the ones That sat you here on this bench fo hours.

"well, This is a tiring job. So they'd probably want as much rest, right?"

"Probably, Your right. I like to think they gossip about patients."

"Thats completely unprofessional."

He laughs. You laugh to, and you dont evem realize it. The vibrating echo of Your laughter didnt sound forced this time, it didn't need to be ripped and snatched out of your throat. It was sincere, you could say it would only be with him. This is new, clutching your stomach in futile attempt to control the laughs that keep escaping, incredibly new. You dont even know what your laughing at anymore, you just are. Hoshina had stopped making noise the moment you did. It was his first time hearing someone laugh like that, so raw and free. He could tell your unfamiliar with the sound of your own happiness, it wasnt rocket science. He feels like he'd just unveiled an artifact, so precious even when kept and hidden for centuries. It would mean the world to him if he could keep making you laugh like this. He didn't say anything, he'd be so guilty if he interupped you at your highest.

But all good things must come to an end. You know that the most. Your familliar with the bitterness that comes after everything worth hanging on to. It all seemed to short, even now. The moment Hoshina checked the time, you knew what was coming next, you could smell it a mile away. Yet you still hopped you were wrong, you dont want this conversation to end just yet. You dont want to face everything head on again. That face he made told everything, it screamed 'i have to go' and it wrathed over your chest. You dont want him to go, you dont want to leave the comfortable atmosphere with him. And above all, you dont wanna feel like an empty walking corpse once more. Hoshina turned to face you, a mourning look adorned his features. That was a new expression of his you've witnessed, you've only seen him giddy and silly until now. Now, he looks upset. You know your time with him is over for today.

"Hey, (name), really sorry but I hafta go now. That smug of a doc said I have prescriptions to take." Thats odd, why is he apologizing? Could he perhaps feel the same agony as you? You believe its impossible, but not because you think he doesn't care. Because he cant possibly match the ache in your chest. He cant, for its to much to even put into words. He hasn't even moved from his seat yet you already long to be in his presence again. Hoshina is sad, yes, but you are 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥.

"Its fine, I really uh— enjoyed talking to you."

"Hey now, dont say it like we wont see each other again. Yer still treating me tomorrow, dont forget about that now. "

"Right."

You guys parted ways after waving goodbye and mumbling 'see you'. The walk back to your hospital room, you felt even more empty and hollow each step your feeble legs took you. Because each step signicates a meter added to the distance between you and him. You dont know where Hoshina is right now, you cant pinpoint his exact location in this big of a hospital and If you could strap a beacon on him, you would. Your chest boils once again, you could feel your lungs close to giving in. It was hell all over again, yet this time, the pain your experiencing is caused by longing. Not because of something so unpleasant, but because of something beautiful. Beautiful, despite being so painful. You pass by many people on the way back, patient and worker alike. You wished you'd pass by a man with a purple bowlcut instead.

You arrived to your own quarters and just collapsit, headfirst on the hospital bed, burrying rour face onto the pillow. It smelled alcholic, to much chemicals used to cleanse it. You inhaled a breath full despite it, the smell left a blazing path in your nostrils, on their way to Polute your lungs. You laid back up right, now met with the pristine material of the crystal white ceiling. Why does every hospital have to be white? Its always so blinding. Not to mention your now having a staring contest with the very source of light in the room, that antagonizing light bulb. It'll turn off automatically at a certain time, but you want it to close now. The darkness was always your comfort, there you were able to lay yourself bare without anyone having to see you.

Your mind wanders back to Hoshina, it seems he put a leash on you as to why you keep thinking about him for more than a normal amount for just a day. You dont wanna be where you cant see him, you wanna hear his sickenly joyous voice and his flashing smile that outshines even the farthest of stars, you wanna talk nonsense with him again, his nonsense never failed to Lift the corners of your mouth to a smile. And you will, tomorrow.

Tomorrow, 8 am. Thats the time you've both agreed upon. Usually, you wouldn't get up until late in the afternoon, just rotting on your bed, the walls would always cave in and the atmosphere was suffocating. You never got up. There was no good reason to, you almost convinced yourself to throw all common sense and self hygiene out the window and just get buried rotting on your bed. Because every time you'd get up, it feels like every misfortune of the whole globe are dumped on your shoulders. It weighs you down, it weighs you back on that sickenly sweet mattress and there you stay there until the next blue moon.

But now, you want to drift to sleep faster and when you wake, your ready to meet Hoshina again. Your so eager to see him, it cant be controlled. His face is the only thing you'd never get tired of. You think its hilarious, you've only met him but you were sure he could mean more. This isn't just some high school crush, your confident about your feelings towards him for you've never felt something this intense your whole uears of living. Not even your longing of death can overrun this feeling. You sew your eyes tight, seeing only pitch black, all this so you could finally sleep and who knows? Maybe even see him in the phantasms of your unconscious state of mind. Thats how low you've stooped. You'll sleep so you can see him faster, you dont like waiting long.

Eventually, you do fall asleep. But not Hoshina. Yes, he's still awake, in his own room, fresh bandages wrapped around his injuries he got from fighting. And yes, if your wondering, hes thinking about you to. He yearns to be in your presence as well, almost as much as you. He doesn't know why. He talks with everyone like that, but he's enjoyed his time with you exceedengly more. Hoshina has been put aside his whole life, all because of his talent and preference for blades over guns. Just because of one measly difference, he was treated differently and looked down upon. But with you, he felt cherished. Its a first for Hoshina to not get judged by first meeting. He doesn't have to train hard or change anything to impress you, it'll come naturally. Hoshina turns around on the matress, facing the window so the ripe rays of the moonlight slapped on his face in result. 'I wants to see her again' was the last thing he talked about before falling asleep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Its 6 in the morning and your half awake. You woke up to early, just how excited are you? But its not a good thing that theres still alot of time before the agreed upon time. You just know that the next 2 hours will double tenfold when waiting to see Hoshina again. Your not a morning person, not at all. Your regular routine is not for the faint of heart. If some woke up at 6am, you'd be turning off Your phone and tucking yourself to bed. So your shocked by your eagerness to see him, to the point where you'll try to get better. Your convinced Hoshina has hit you with a pan, because your aacting absolutelyInsane.

You brush your teeth and hair, and thoroughly clean your bruises as to the doctors said. You wonder when you gonna get discharged but thats for later, dear reader. You dread the fact that you have to wear that awful hospital gown again, but alas, it is required. You try to look as presentable as you can. You usually wouldnt bother putting effort in your physical appearance, but you figured it would be nice for once. You were sat on a chair, waiting impatiently like a child waiting for they're treat. You were milimeters close to just turning the Whole building upside down just so you can see Hoshina.

So imagine how excited you were when the clock had acutely hit the digit 8. The minute it did, you were busting out of the room, with your injured leg by the way. The pain had seemingly went away and healed, or it was Just overpowered by your giddyness that your nerves didn't have the space to make up for physical pain. So here you were, dragging yourself across these hallways once again. You passed by that same old lady on a wheel chair that you did yesterday. She gave you a judging face back then, which a wasn't such rare occurrence, you were used to having such glares dumped upon the entirety of your shameful being. But now you wondered if she found any difference, between the walking dead body you were yesterday and the eestatic, hungry, affection driven limp you are now.

Whilst you were rushing like you were catching up to a work deadline, he was enjoying his walk through these glossy, hauntingly white hallways. Taking each step according to the comfort of his legs, hands crossed on the broadness of his chest as he struts the hallway. Soshiro Hoshina has always been scary great at maintaining his composure. Those under his wing back at the third division are well aware of it, they have front row seats to how he switches from acting all goofy to having a stoic face in a matter of miliseconds, they even kidded around about how his control over his expressions is the work of witchcraft. However, don't be fooled by his calm demeanor, he's excited to see you as well. But as Vice-captain, it wouldn't be very ideal to him if he just jogged as fast as he can in patient filled hhallway. Hoshina disciplined himself to the bone, he wont let up now.

After what seemed like an eternity of turning corners and navigating his way through these hallways, Hoshina finally sees sight of the cafeteria. He steps in, and the homogenous smell of the food slaps him in the face. If he was weird enough to concentrate and differentiate the aroma, he probably can guess whats on the menu for today. Hoshina wastes no time in trying to find your presence, your presence in which he couldn't get enough of yesterday. His head startes whipping around, turning left to right, right to left in search of a peek of your appearance. He was baffled to say the least, shocked at the population of the people present here this morning. He wants to see you, asap. He started walking to those with even with the slightest resemblance of what your physical appearance looks like, in hopes that it would be you. He saw someone with the same hair color as yours, kinda fooled him there for a brief second. He just kept circling around the vastful room, so distracted in finding you. He doesn't wanna merely sit down and wait, conclude that your not here yet and he should just sit tight. Scarlet eyes scanned the whole cafeteria, but eyes always had blindspots where they provided no visuals, thats why he didn't notice your presence coming up from his south.

You tapped his shoulder from behind.

He doesn't think hes ever whipped his head back that fast his whole life. Hoshina turned his head so urgently he swears he heard a subtle pop in his neck. Upon seeing the sight of your face, he was 'joyous', actually thats underwhelming what Hoshina was feeling at the moment, he was euphoric. His skin feels like its being roasted and his lungs are short of gas. He feels weird, he doesn't know what to do or what to say so hoshina just stood there agape. You didn't move a muscle either, mouth zipped shut with no intention of letting put any sort of noise in fear that he'd back away. You didn't dare try to make a distance, everything else caved in, nothing else mattered, just the one in front of you. He looked so right, and by that you dont mean he's handsome (although he surely is very attractive). By 'right' you mean you'd never get tired of his appearance.

Hoshina Soshiro, to you, is the finest work of art exhibited in museum of life, the most astounding creation of matter you've laid your eyes upon.

Oh shit, you like him, the Hoshina Soshiro.

#hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #kn8 x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader

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maginxlia · 2 years ago

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Starring Tokyo Revengers Men In ✰ Missing You PT 2

Cast Line Up Draken, Takashi, Takemichi, Chifuyu, Keisuke and Taiju Shiba

Rated TV-MA

Minors This Isn’t For You

Summary ✰ How the Men Mind and Body Reacts to you being Far from them! Powerful Sexy Men All needy for you! Part Two Baby!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ken 'Draken' Ryuguji

✰ Draken Denies That you being far away has any effect on him but Baby That's a lie

✰ His concentration is broken, His dick is hard and His balls are begging to be emptied into you

✰ Got Him Laying in bed with your pillow on his face while he takes in your scent and tug on his dick

✰ Cumming Doesn't Feel the same without your gummy walls holding his dick just right

✰ Draken Going to work Frustrated and in need of you, To make It worse Mikey is asking questions in front of everyone

✰ “You okay Ken-Chin?” Mikey asked while eating his food making everyone look at Draken, “Yeah. I'm fine.” Draken answers back hoping Mikey drops it. “No, you're not. You've been pent up ever since Y/N left for their trip” Mikey said without even looking making Draken Eye twitch

✰ Hell Yeah, he's pent up and he can't wait to take his frustration out on that tight pussy of yours, show you how much he missed you.

✰ “Want the Neighbors to hear how much you missed this dick” Draken groans while he pull your body close to his

Draken had you in his arms with his dick buried between your sweet folds. he even didn't take your panties off, he just pushed them to the side before sliding his hard dick in your moist cunt, “Fuck. So wet for me. Guess it was all that teasing I did to you or did you miss me?? Hmmm??” Draken asked while moving his hips just right making your eyes roll

“Missed you so much, Kenny. Missed Your Dick” You moaned as He fucked you just right, “Missed you too Doll. Missed everything about you, Missed your smell, Your smile, and the way your pussy works my Dick” Draken grunted before angling his hips to beat up that spot in you makes you blissed out

His strong arms held you against him securely, Your soft thighs in his hands being gripped with just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. “Wanna see yourself get fucked?? Yeah. I'm gonna let you see yourself get fucked” Draken grunted while walking over to the full-length mirror, “Looks so Beautiful, Yeah?” Draken asked while rolling his hips before Jackhammering your cunt with his dick

The sight of your Pussy being stretched open by his dick and the way he was fucking you was enough for you to go absolutely feral but then Draken had to start sucking on your neck making your eyes roll back. “ About to cum Already? Tsk Tsk Tsk” Draken said while he fucked you deeper

You couldn't stop your pussy from Cumming as you watched yourself get fucked, Your pussy squeezed hard Around Draken Dick but he didn't let up as he drilled your pussy through your orgasm. Draken gave you two thrusts before laying you on the bed

“ Want You Face Down and Ass Up. Do not let my dick slide out of you.” Draken Grunted before giving your thighs a squeeze.

Takashi Mitsuya

✰ Takashi Hates That He had to leave you alone for this fashion show and he knows he's going to regret not bringing you

✰ He misses you something awful. You are his drug, He Needs your hickeys on his neck and your pussy around his dick just to feel Level headed

✰ He doesn't let his need for you bleed into his work. He's too busy to concentrate on how his balls hurt and how his dick leak for you but when he's alone you're all he can think about

✰ Takashi edging his dick to the thought of your soft lips enveloping him and the way your tongue swirls around his swollen tip

✰ Saving All his cum for you, He wants to fill your pussy Up when he finally gets the chance to fuck you

✰ Yes, his fashion show was a hit but was it really a sucess when you're not in his limo sucking him off on the way back to the hotel??

✰ He Can’t wait to fuck you dumb when he gets you back in his arms

✰ “Gonna fill that pussy up with My Cum, Hope you're ready to be stuffed” Takashi whispers in your ear as his hands subtly roam your body

Takashi was dick was deep in your velvety walls while his mouth sucked your right nipple so good that you were crying tears of pleasure, “Taka, missed the way you make me so weak” You cried while Takashi's dick pounded your pussy making your toes curl

“Missed the way you make me feel, never gonna leave without you again” Takashi Groaned before bringing his head down to suck on your left nipple making you mewl so sweetly, “Feels so Good Taka” You moaned while he fucked you deep

“Pussy so tight, fuck” Takashi groaned while he drilled your pulsating pussy making his eyes roll back as he thrust deeper into your warm pulsing walls. His dick felt heavenly, The tip of his dick Constantly brushing that spot in you that makes you say his name like a prayer

Takashi added a log to the fire that was your pleasure as he played with your clit so fucking good the only words to leave your lips was his name, “ Love. Keep squeezing down on me and saying my name like that, I'm going to paint your walls with my cum” Takashi groaned as he thrust up into you

“Taka, Oh My. I'm gonna cum” You moaned while your pussy clenched around the dick of the man you love, Your orgasm made your body jolt around Takashi's dick. “Feels so good cumming on me” Takashi Grunted before his dick began spurting cum deep into your juicy pussy

Takashi gave you four more shallow thrusts before he slowly pulled out of you, “Look absolutely Gorgeous with my cum leaking out you” Takashi groaned before he started fingering your cunt while stroking his dick

Takemichi Hanagaki

✰ Takemichi Is being Tortured without your touch, His mind and Body is overwhelmed with feelings of missing you

✰ Since you Left He got a migraine that won't leave and a dick that won't stay soft

✰ Takemichi Jerking his dick to the dirty pictures you send him so desperately. He just wants to please your pussy and get off, is that too much to ask for?

✰ Got Him sleeping with a pillow between his legs to hump in his sleep cause his dreams is filled with you and that pretty wet pussy

✰ Takemichi doesn't even want to hang with his friends anymore, He just so fucking miserable and Horny

✰ “What's Wrong Takemichi??” Yamagishi asked while Patting his friend on the back, “Think he just misses his babe. Let's Go do something fun and take your mind off them, yeah?” Akkun says while helping Takemichi Up

✰ Takemichi Appreciate his friends trying to cheer him up but all he Want is you Under Him Creaming on his inches

✰ “Missed you so much” Takemichi groans in your ear while rubbing his hard dick against your ass

Takemichi was fucking you on the plush rug of your apartment. He rutted in you with determination as he raised your left leg up to fuck you deeper, “Oh How I missed you. How I missed your moans” He Groaned into your ear while he rubbed circles on your clit

“Want to Make You cum on my dick. Missed making you feel good” Takemichi moaned before taking your right nipple into his mouth and sucking on your tender bud, “Missed How you and How Good You make me Feel Michi” You moaned softly in Takemichi ear sending shivers down his spine

Takemichi stroked your pussy right as his dick manipulated your G-Spot making you mark up his back and moan his name while Takemichi kept fucking you. Takemichi had tears in his eyes because your pussy felt downright delicious on his swollen dick,” Ahh So Perfect” Takamichi Moaned while his dick bullied your pussy so good that you were close to losing control

Takemichi Had your body trembling from pleasure as he rocked his hips to get ever so deeper into your soft tender walls, His fingers skimmed over your clit as he basked in the glow of making love to you. “So close Michi” You moaned while he stared up at you

“Me Too. want to cum Together.” Takemichi moaned while he brought his shaking hand to hold yours while he fucked you to completion. Like your bodies were following orders you both began cumming together, Takemichi seed mixed with your cream as both of you shuddered from the overwhelming pleasure.

Takemichi gave you one more shaky thrust before kissing the back of your hand, “Let just lay here for a moment” Takamichi groaned before kissing your lips.

Chifuyu Matsuno

✰ Chifuyu Misses you. He misses the way your arms hold him, The way your pussy squeezes him and How your lips graze his ear

✰ He knew the moment you left his side it was Game over for him, You & Your pussy is his source of serotonin and Melatonin

✰ Chifuyu finds himself Hornier than Ever, His dick needs to be buried in that snug pussy of yours

✰ Can't sleep at night for Playing with his dick while imagining you riding his face

✰ Kazutora and Keisuke notice the change In Chifuyu and they're worried for Him

✰ “He Hasn't had a good night's sleep since they left, Huh?” Kazutora asks Keisuke while they stock the shelves of the Pet store, “Yup. Don't know the power Y/N got on him. I never want to experience something like that” Keisuke said before his eyes landed on his poor friend

✰ Chifuyu don't want their pity, He just wants your pussy spread open ready to be fucked by him

✰ “Gonna fuck your pussy so good that you forget your name” Chifuyu whispers in your ear before taking your bags away from you

Chifuyu was fucking you in the backroom of the Pet shop, He couldn't wait to get home to get up that pretty pussy. “Had me walking around lost without that pussy milking my dick” Chifuyu groaned in your ear as he fucked you against the wall

His hand held your thighs apart while he worked his hips pushing his dick deeper and deeper into your cunt. His tongue sticking out while he relished the feeling of your walls around his dick making you coo, “ Fuyu so pretty when he fucks me, I miss feeling you in me” You moaned while pushing his wet bangs away from his face. “So pretty” You cooed while Chifuyu's fingers began to work your clit

“Pussy always feels so good around my dick” Chifuyu groaned while his dick slid in and out of your tight pussy, you were making him feel so good that his legs were shaking. Chifuyu was fucking you so good that your pussy was clamping down on his dick making him moan

“Fuck. Gonna cum if you keep that up” Chifuyu groaned before licking your neck making you tremble against him. Chifuyu kept fucking you at a rapid pace knowing he was close to cumming deep in but he knew you were close too how your pussy was clinching on him

“Ahhh Fuyu. Cumming” You moaned while you got lost in your orgasm as Chifuyu continued to fuck you through your orgasm, “Fuck” Chifuyu Groaned as his dick shot thick ropes of cum into your pussy making his hips stutter. He pushed his dick deep in you one final time before pulling out of your warmth, “Wait til I get you Home, I'm going to fuck you like never before” Chifuyu Grinned while fixing your clothes back.

Keisuke Baji

✰ Keisuke starting to believe you cast a spell on him. Ever since you kissed him Goodbye his dick is harder than ever and he can't get a drop of cum out

✰ Got Him Going to school dick hard and aching, This is not going to help his grades!

✰ He's so pissed at how much his body misses you, It doesn't help him that he can't stop thinking about you and how you work his dick with your cunt

✰ Every Free moment he gets His hands are wrapped around his dick while he thinks about how he gonna fuck you

✰ Chifuyu and Kazutora Teasing Him for using his breaks to hide in the employee Restroom

✰ “Your Stomach Okay?” Kazutora asked while grinning, “Yeah. Your “Stomach” hasn't been well since Y/N left” Chifuyu chimed in while Keisuke's face got red. “Kazutora don't you have shelves to stock and Chifuyu don't you have orders to fill while you’re worried about my restroom Habits?” Keisuke said before going into the backroom

✰ Keisuke doesn't care if they ridicule him, all He cares about is how he's gonna fuck you until his back is raw from your nails clawing him up

✰ “Feel it?? Feel How Hard You left me.” Keisuke Grunted while he rubbed your hand against his hard dick

Keisuke rolled his hips while he laid to kisses on the side of your neck as he fucked you against the front door of your two shared apartment, His Hands held your titties just right while his dick worked your pussy over. “Kei, What about the Neighbors? They'll hear us” You moaned as Keisuke sucked your neck before pulling away

“Let Them Hear How much I missed you and your warm pussy” Keisuke groaned before snapping his hips to get his dick deeper into your cunt, His fingers worked your nipples while his swollen dick was hellbent on pounding that spongy spot in you

The Wood of the Door creaking with every thrust Keisuke gave to you but you didn't give a damn at this point while you studied Keisuke's Face while he concentrated on fucking you right. “Pussy so fucking Creamy. Miss this Didn't you?? Tell me how much you missed me.” Keisuke grunted while giving you those long deep strokes that drive you nutty

“Missed You so much Keisuke. Missed Your thick dick” you cried out while you got lost deep in the land of pleasure as Keisuke sucked on your left nipple making you arch off the door. Keisuke fucked you so good that your body couldn't hold back from cumming around his dick powerfully

“Fuck. You cumming so good for me. Gripping me so tight” Keisuke grunted while your pussy pulled his cum from him, Keisuke was shaking as he rolled his hips one more time trying to push his dick a little deeper before pulling out of you. “Not done with you yet, I'm fucking you all night long” Keisuke said before he caught your lips in a kiss.

Taiju Shiba

✰ Taiju always Knew the effect You had on him. He was prepared to have his dick Leaking and aching for you but are you prepared for a pent up Taiju??

✰ May The Heavens have Mercy on anyone who tests this Man Patiences while he's in want for you, He will break Arms and Noses with the quickness

✰ With That Being said Taiju Misses you deeply and he awaits your return

✰ His dick laying hard against his Belly when he tries to sleep at night and it doesn't help he gets the most sinful Visions of you in his dreams

✰ Taiju doesn't touch Himself cause he wants you to take care of the problem you cost by going on a trip without him

✰ His Mind stays on all the ways he's gonna fuck you until your pussy stop creaming and start squirting

✰ He's gonna fold you up and fuck you so hard when he finally gets his fingertips on you that you won't be able to walk straight for two weeks

✰ “ I hope My Dove Enjoyed their Little Trip because you won't be leaving the bed anytime soon” Taiju whispers while holding you close

Taiju was fucking you from behind while you propped yourself up on his desk, With The Powerful Thrusts he was giving to your pussy you swore the wood would snap from under you but you couldn't voice your concerns for moaning Taiju's name. “ Yes. Say the Name of the Man who fucks you so stupid” Taiju grunted before landing a spank on your ass making you yelp

“ I missed the way your dick stretch my pussy” you mewled out while Taiju fucked you so good that your knees wanted to buckle, “ Leaving me Hard. Making me lust for you. Gonna fuck you on every surface of this house” Taiju Grunted while placing his hands on your shoulders to make you Arch deeper

Taiju Had you lost in ecstasy as his dick filled you so well so effortlessly. He was driving you crazy with how his thick tip rubbed your G-spot, You could barely keep your head up because the pleasure Taiju was giving to you was too intense. “Mhmm. Taiju Taiju Taiju” You moaned out while he touch the deepest parts of you

“The Way you moan my name sounds like the prettiest of songs” Taiju whispered in your ear while putting his weight down on you making your pussy pulse. Taiju left hand traveled under you to play with your clit as his right played with your right nipple, he was playing with your body like a fine-tuned instrument

You felt something in you snap as your orgasm hit you hard out of Nowhere, Your body shaking against the desk while Taiju fucked you deep through your orgasm. You could only say his brokenly while Taiju kept up the pace before Lifting you off the desk

“Hope you're not tired. Going to fuck you on the couch Next” Taiju Grunted before Giving you a slow deep stroke.

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