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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 6 months ago

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Four to Tango (poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Warnings: foursome, smut, just a reason to create smut where three gorgeous fucking men rearrange your organs, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v, never ending orgasms lol, overstimulation, all three of them are utter teases, polyamorous mates, no jealousy, rhys loves to watch his brothers fuck you stupid, my emotional support bat boys, i desperately need them rn, foursomes are hard to write ngl 🫠

Words: 5836

Summary: Three of them at the same time? You may not make it out alive.

Life before your three mates had never consisted with as much sex as it does now. In fact you were a virgin when you met the Illyrian trio. Not for lack of trying to get into a relationship. There were other concerns for you to attend to that distracted you from finding a partner.

Then Azriel literally fell into your lap. Followed by Cassian descending from the sky while laughing at the other who was blushing furiously and trying to scramble off of you with a string of apologies. Rhysand, with a flap of his wings touches down to the ground with an entertained grin. Until his violet eyes noticed you. Really noticed you. Almost reading into your soul.

Had it really been only four months since then?

Thinking about it had you blushing into your pillow. Four months of mind shattering orgasms and lavished with never ending affection. You must have really been good in your past life to receive these three as a reward.

Rhys shifts beside you. Voice husky from sleep but practically purring when he wraps his arms around you. "Seems like its been longer than four months, huh?"

His palms flatten against your midsection. Warmth immediately spreading across the plane of your skin. You wiggle closer to him and in reply, Rhys buries his face in the juncture of your neck. His lips pepper small kisses along the soft skin of your jugular.

He took turns with Cassian and Azriel as to who spent the night with you. It was only fair. You told them that you cared for them all equally and it didn't matter to you. You'd accept whatever they could agree upon without there being any jealousy.

Rotating was tricky in the beginning. Giving them each the same amount of attention to prevent feelings of being left out. And maybe you were starting to get greedy with their love because you couldn't help but feel incomplete without the other two when you were in one's bed.

Your inner musing catches Rhysand's attention; seemingly waking him up. The arm laying on top of you is removed when he sits up. Did you unintentionally offend him with your thoughts?

"Would you be interested in all three of us here?" He questions.

You turn to address the high lord of the Night Court. Beautifully and sinfully sexy the way he leans on his elbow to gaze at you. Tousled black hair shifting across his brow. What an alluring sigh the made. Tattoos and scars marking the smooth surface of his tan skin.

"All three of you in this bed?" It had been done before when you wanted to cuddle with all three of your mates. Rhys' bed nearly broke, not large enough to support two extra heavy frames.

"More than that." Rhysand's thumb brushes a stray hair out of your face. The depth of his tone had a warmth shooting down to your core. Thighs press together, you melt under his attention. "All three of us feasting upon you. At the same time." A growling undertone hits your ears. Your breathing becomes shallow as he holds your gaze.

You gulp, mind already racing when you whimper out "A-All of you?"

Rhys reads each and every one of your dirty thoughts, his lips curling sinisterly. "Can I take that as a 'yes', love?"

A furious blush overheats your cheeks and the tips of your ears. "I-I. . . How would that even work out?"

He leans in and nips at your already burning shell of your ear "You leave that to us."

Ever loving to tease you, he leaves with that promise hanging in the air. Claiming he had work to do but that he'd see you for lunch. For a while you lay in bed, thinking of the dark glint in your mate's eyes.

Surely, all three of them would be way too much for you to handle. Each of them were terrifyingly well-endowed. Especially Azriel. It took several tries to get more than the head of his cock inside of you. In the end he had to ease it in slowly over several dates until you could fully sheath him.

It became your hyperfixation throughout the day. As you went about the House of Wind to when you were out in the town market.

When you bump into Mor back at the townhouse, she manages to make you squeal on what Rhys had brought up earlier that morning.

Mor lets out a low, impressed whistle. "You have got to be the luckiest female in all of Prythian. What are you sweating about?"

"I can barely handle one of them at a time, Mor. I fear they'll kill me. Death by cock. I don't want that on my tombstone."

"Death by cock doesn't sound too bad." she hums but it turns into a snort when she catches your distressed expression. "Quit fretting. They'll take good care of you."

Chewing on your bottom lilp you knew you probably came off as silly to her.

Mor's hand caresses your upper arm. In a short amount of time, Mor had become the big sister you never knew you needed. She became your confidant and would keep all of your secrets; take them to the grave if required. "They're dumb males but they love you. Never in a million years would they ever dream of doing anything to hurt you."

That was clear to you since day one. The Cauldron destined all three of them to be your mates for a reason.

And it could be fun.

Who were you kidding, you knew it would be fun. Having sex with them individually always reduced your bones to pure pudding. They were overly generous lovers. Always making sure you climaxed first. Treating you not like a queen but a divine entity to be worshipped. Their faces, your thrones.

Talking with Mor did you good. You felt absurd at your previous concern. This would be the experience of a lifetime. Getting to love all three of your mates at once had you giddy.

After Mor leaves, you're constantly checking the clock. Almost lunch time. That meant your boys would be home at any minute. Your heart felt like a energetic bird in a cage, banging against its bars in desperation to get out.

You debate going upstairs and changing your underwear to something sexier when you stand to head toward the stairs, that's when the front door opens. Poking your head out from around the corner, you confirm it to be your boys. You were still getting used to the feeling of the mental connection that connected you to your three mates. Cassian and Az are in the middle of a conversation behind Rhysand when the trio walks in. Rhys grins at you before grabbing the attention of the Illyrians who stop their chatter.

Never one to be subtle, Cassian struts past them and pulls you out into the entry hallway. He swoops down to capture your lips with his, picking you off your feet unintentionally. His kisses always took all the air out of you, making your head delightfully light and floating. Cassian's eyes hold specks of glittering gold when he returns you to the ground.

"Welcome home." you breathily greet him. You swear Cassian puffs his chest out like a proud parrot every time he can get your vision to go starry with his kisses.

"You should've moved in a long time ago. I like coming home to you." Cassian's voice is smooth, deep as if purring.

Rhysand chuckles at your swooning thoughts toward the general. "Easy Cass. Get her any more riled up and we may not make it to the bedroom in time."

The cool caress of Azriel's shadows slithering up your legs accelerates the 'lub dub' of your chest.

"Aw, am I exciting you princess?" The general gets an immediate reaction when he picks up the scent of your arousal dripping from between your legs. Dark delight curls Cassian's lips.

Rhysand and Azriel appear to smell you as well. Hunger straightens their backs and their pupils blowing out. Azriel's serpentine shadows squeeze the fat of your upper thigh, another prods curiously at your clothed pussy, asking for permission inside. "Now sweetling, you wouldn't want anyone to come upon us and ruin our fun. Be a good girl and head up those stairs."

"You heard him." Rhysand reinforces Azriel's command when you hesitate, your face beet red. His chin tilts up, gesturing to the staircase on your right.

They looked like three wolves before they pounce on the poor unsuspecting lamb. You go up the stairs on wobbly legs. Every inch of you tingled with anticipation feeling the heat of the boys at your back. They're basically panting behind you, forced to watch the sway of your hips and ass as you go up one step and then another. Its a race to the bedroom door. You're the one to twist the knob, but its the flat of three palms against the door's smooth frame that shove it wide open. Cassian scoops you up, the ground slipping out from under you.

Cassian twirls you around before settling you down on the mattress like the treasure you were. If he possessed a tail, you bet all the riches in Prythian that it would be wagging fast. His lips are placing kisses all along your exposed legs, having flipped your dress skirts up. You uncontrollably giggle when he reaches the upper insides of your thighs, so close to your core.

You catch Rhysand's dark chuckle, the door closing shut follows after.

"Impatient as ever, Cass." Azriel comments and moves to one side of Rhys' bed while Rhysand stalks toward the other.

Hovering over you with his hair tickling your face, Cassian smirks and gifts you one last kiss before allowing you to sit up. With your three mates in front of you, you couldn't help feeling a little shy. Individually, you'd become sexually confident with them. But to have three pairs of lustful eyes all focused in on you. . .

You fidget and squirm, feeling the space between your legs flutter. "S-So. . . how is this going to work?"

"Nervous?" Rhysand reaches his hand out to gently stroke a lock of your hair.

"A little. I mean, to have the Night Court's high lord, general and spymaster all together is a bit intimidating. But I trust all of you." You grip Rhys' hand and move it towards your lips to kiss his knuckles; swearing that you hear him sharply inhale as you do so. You spoke the truth when you said you trusted them. They had you feeling confident and bold with the lavish amounts of love that they bestowed you with each day. How they made you feel like you could take on the very world itself as long as they were by your side.

Letting go of Rhysand's hand, you start to undress; overtly cognizant of their heated stares. Fully naked, you decide that Azriel's been so patient in waiting for attention. He grins when you crawl onto his lap and cup his jaw to pull him into a fervant kiss. His wings twitch and the shadows that perpetually clung to him push you closer against his form. In the background, you hear Rhysand and Cassian shuffle around. You wonder if they'd talked about this often.

"Oh, we have." Rhysand grins. "Many times. Sweetling, you have no idea the of the plans we've devised."

Azriel bites your lip in the moment making you gasp. Those powerful hands of his grip your ass tightly, forcefully moving you in a grinding motion against his hardening cock. Not caring that a smear of your arousal shined on the fabric of his pants.

"All the ways we can absolutely devour you."

Behind you, sharp teeth graze your shoulder making you squirm even more on Azriel's lap.

"The delicious thing that you are, it was necessary to. . . coordinate our moves." They move from your shoulder to your neck.

Your moans are unrestricted, they simply go directly into Az's mouth. He greedily feasts on them, tendrils of shadows softly gliding down your calf and to your ankles.

Now, Az.

You're not spared even a second before you're flipped around. Azriel takes hold of your wrists, splaying you out in front of Rhysand and Cassian. Their tattoos free from the confines of their shirts. And of course their well endowed shafts were already hard.

Rhysand is on his stomache, creeping closer to your pussy lips to brush his mouth against it before nuzzling with the tip of his nose at that little bundle of nerves that had the muscles in your thighs twitching. Teasing at first until his tongue lazily toys with it.

Azriel has you completely restrained. Nowhere for you to run or hide.

Fingers rub along your labia that was coated in your slick. Rhysand uses his fingers to gently pull your lower lips apart.

Your hazy gaze falls on Cassian who is gently stroking himself. He sends you a wolfish grin when he catches you. "Feel good, princess?"

All you can give out in response is a kiltered mewl. Rhysand was making his circles larger and larger around your clit. The tip of his finger starts to tickle at your entrance.

"A-Aahh-" Head lolling back, it falls against Azriel's shoulder. He's kissing the length of your neck, definitely leaving love bites.

Inch by inch, Rhysand inserts his index finger in you and ever so gently begins to curl his finger from inside of you. It's featherlight but enough to send an electric jolt through you and up your throat. Between your legs, Rhysand is constantly changing his speed and pressure. You squirm when Rhysand easily slips another finger inside of you and picks up his tongue speed on your clit.

You're trying your best to gyrate your hips to a near grind against Rhysand's face but Azriel's pesky shadows simply wouldn't allow it.

"Please!" You moan with another pathetic thrust of your hips.

Rhysand's lips smirk against your pussy.

"What do you say, general? Should the high lord let our well mannered lady come?" croons Azriel as he nips at the soft spots on your neck.

The tip of Cassian's cock is blushing with the most perfect bead of precum like a pearl. His lips curl in a smile when he catches your pretty eyes staring at him. He makes a show and swoops his thumb over the tip of his cock, dilated pupils observing how your mouth unconsciously opens with want to take in Cassian's member. And he would love to shove his cock down your throat, but that would have to be another time.

Instead, Cassian chooses to cock his head in scrutiny. "Too soon, don't you think?"

You desperately shake your head in disagreement but behind you Azriel laughs. "You're a cruel bastard aren't you?"

Shrugging indifferently before turning a wicked smirk your way, Rhysand returns to teasingly feasting on you as you squirm to shove your pussy closer to his mouth. He reduced his tongue strocks to pathetic kitten licks that had you wanting more.

Replacing Azriel's hands was the cool grip of his shadows as his hands now grip your tits. Scarred finger pads toy with your nipple until both are erect. Between your legs Rhys continues running the flat of his tongue up and down, dealing little rolls of the tip of his tongue against your clit occasionally. Just enough to keep you on the edge.

You're a whimpering, moaning mess. Half lidded eyes are barely able to make out the now fuzzy image of Cassian as he strolls to your other side. He puts one knee on the bed and leaning on his hands for support, he bites at your free tit that isn't being tortured by Azriel's loving pinches. His mouth latches on instantly.

Focus all over the place, you're lost in your own heady bliss and while you were denied your orgasm, your whole body was trembling from your mates' individual actions.

When Rhysand sits up, you nearly scream in frustration and pull at your shadowy restraints. "No!!"

They laugh at you and the bucking of your hips against empty air. You find yourself being manhandled once again, your tummy pressed against the mattress with your ass high in the air. Instead of Azriel's cock springing in front of your face its' Cass'.

Not needing any instructions, you take him into your mouth. You feel Cassian twitch against your tongue.

"See what a good girl she is, Cass? Come on. She deserves to come." the High Lord runs his hand along your flank, giving the globes of your ass a small squeeze. "Accidentally" slipping his thumb past your pussy lips.

Just to show Cassian what a good girl you were, you swallow more of his girth down your throat and hum. The vibrations that jolt up his cock has Cassian jerking his hips with a groan and threading his fingers into your hair. Rolling his head back, Cassian feels the walls of your throat tighten.

Through the warming of his face, Cassian trains his eyes back on your face.

"I think to sweeten the general up, perhaps our good girl should make the general come." You barely hear Azriel's smooth voice over the pounding of blood vessels in your ears. The entirety of the bottom of your face is covered in your own saliva and Cassian's precum. Your breathing was labored as you even struggled to inhale through your nose. Determination burning you up from the inside as you enjoy Cassian's cacophony of moans. Fueling the inferno in your core that has you wantonly feverish.

Obscenities made up of wet gagging noises coming from you and Cassian's own erratic growls fill Rhysand's master bedroom.

If anyone were to walk by outside-

"Don't think of that." Lightly scolds Rhysand. "There is no world except for the one in this room." His tongue licks from your clit to your perineum making you shiver and moan with your mouth full of Cassian.

There's a tug from Cassian's hand in your hair, pulling you back to the present matter at hand. He grinds his hips against your face. You're more than happy to forget about any sense of decorum or shame.

Your thoughts please Rhysand as he practically purrs against your pussy before he starts a full on make-out session with your lower lips. Your pitiable moans that send pleasurable quivers through Cassian's cock was enough to have his grip tighten in warning before shoving you off. Immediately follows the ribbon of cum shooting from his tip

"F-Fff-Fucking good girl" Cass' tone sounds like a curse but his red cheeks and heaving chest told you plenty. In a appreciative gesture, you run your fingers through the tantalizing streak of his happy trail, skating over the ridge of his cum gutters and up the mountain of abs.

It's all you can do as Rhysand spears that exquisite tongue of into your pussy while also stimulating your clit.

Alright, the general has spoken, sweetling. I'll give you a big reward.

Rhysand makes sure to keep his hands attentive to your messy, wet pussy when he pulls his face away. From the mess you left on his hands, Rhys uses it to coat his cock and and gently taps the tip against your entrance.

All the while Cassian brushes a few strands of hair out of your face before cupping it in his massive, callused hands. He always held you like you were a fragile egg. Intently watching every twitch of your face as Rhysand slowly pushes the blunt end of his cock into you. Inch by inch, he sheathes his member; like a sword with its scabbard. Your mouth parts, forming a soft 'o' shape as you feel your gummy walls accommodate his girth. For even Rhysand its a snug fit but being patient rewards him. Strong hands keep your hips in place.

Need to make sure I stretch you out a little before you take Az.

You're surprised you have a bit of your whits with you as you numbly think Where is Az?

"I'm right here, princess." Azriel sits on the bed once again, this time matching everyone else's nudity.

Again you're taken aback by how truly lucky you are when you gaze at Azriel and Cassian with half-lidded eyes. Cassian was already at half-mast in a matter of seconds thanks to the way your tits bounced when Rhysand fluidly slid his cock in and out. The powerful lines that composed their physique. Each muscle a testament to the trials and tribulations they have survived through. Your mates.

"Yes." He picks up his pace while swiping his thumb over your clit. "We're all your's sweetling." Heat radiating off of Rhysand makes your back start to sweat. Especially when he leans his forehead to press against your shoulder as he nearly folds over you, his thrusts becoming more animalistic as he neared the pinnacle of his own pleasure.

It's ridiculous how hard Rhysand can make you come. Overwhelming that your own small body could hardly contain it in your physical vessel. You can't help the tears that warm the backs of your eyes as you feel a thousand stars burst from inside of you. Stardust blurs your vision as your pussy walls clamp down on Rhysand mercilessly in your orgasm.

You're grateful that Rhysand solely is keeping you up. Your own body fails you as muscles spasm and every bare inch of you grows overly sensitive to Rhys' tightening grip.

Searing heat fills your core. The only sign that Rhysand has reached his climax as well besides the vicious bites he leaves all over your shoulders.

Your boys laugh when you face plant into the mattress, a heaving mess already and Cassian nor Azriel have had their fun yet. You will your arms to lift you up.

Red faced Rhysand takes pity on you and wraps one arm around your midsection to help you at least sit up enough to focus on the other two males whose chest are heaving just as much as yours'. Azriel's pupils have swelled till they took over his natural eye color. They'd look terrifying if it weren't for their raging cocks.

Well. . . the sight of those impressive members were slightly terrifying but also thrilling. Surprised when you felt your sticky pussy clench with need. Spoiled your cunt had become. Utterly spoiled by your three indulgent mates.

Cauldron grant you strength.

"Az and Cass will take care of you while I get you some water." Rhysand breathily tells you as he attempts to catch his own breath. You pout slightly when he moves to leave. He kisses your lips to placate the pout. "I'll be back. You'll be good. Won't you?"

"Always." You beam up at him. It has Rhysand melting, debating on staying and sending for one of the wraiths to fetch you water, but he knew you loathe the idea of anyone hearing your moans besides your mates.

With another promise of being prompt, Rhysand takes a second to at least put some pants on before leaving the room.

That's when Cassian unexpectedly pounces on you, pushing you back down against the mattress as you squeal your surprise. His lips are all over you, nips and kisses alike.

"Remember, we have to wait for Rhys." Azriel pipes up much to Cassian's chagrin as he shoots the spymaster a tampered down glare. While he's not too bothered with waiting, that doesn't mean he wasn't going to play around with you a little bit.

"Yeah yeah I know." Cass grins, his face leans down to hover over your tits before he takes on in his mouth. His teeth gently tug at your nipple making you warble. He hollows out his cheeks to give it a good suckle. "You'd probably do with a good tit sucking, Az." Comments Cassian once he removes his lips with a loud 'pop' noise.

"Then quit hogging them." Grins Azriel and pushes his brother's face away from your chest. Actually he nearly shoves Cassian off of you in his haste to latch his lips around your pert and abused bud. Imprints of Cassian's front teeth could be made out on the delicate skin of your breasts. Cassian doesn't put up a fight and watches Azriel swiftly clamber atop of you.

His giant wings block out the rest of the room, encasing you so that you could only focus on the spymaster.

He slithers down onto his tummy, his face making a slow ascent to your tits. Biting at the undersides, soft and tender and already baring red marks from Cassian's previous nibbling. Azriel's palm goes to cup at your heated pussy, still slick from your orgasm and leaking even more now with their touches.

You grind against his bare hand, absolutely drooling at the deep growl that rolls through him when you do so. Feel your lower lips spread against his palm, Azriel lets out another debauched groan that was now being muffled thanks to your nipple in his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around Azriel's head, you pull him closer to your chest and weave your fingers into his dark hair. In response his suckling becomes louder, the sensation shooting a thrill to your pussy. You coo praises with your head thrown back and your legs wrapping around Azriel's waist.

"Uh-uh sweetheart." Azriel lifts his face when he feels you trying to wiggle onto his cock. "Cassian has to stretch you out next."

"I've taken you before though. I can do it without any prep." Complaining, you're basically whimpering when Azriel peels himself completely off of you. You want to bite your tongue off for even saying anything.

"Looks like she's about to have a tantrum." Teases Rhysand when he opens the bedroom door to slink back in, but it was true. Azriel had worked you back up and now you were in need of another cock inside of you.

At least he's able to stop your pouting when you hands you water. You didn't realize how parched you were until the first splash of cold water hits your tongue. Guzzling it down, you're not paying attention to your bat boys having a silent conversation. One that you were not allowed in on.

Rhysand winks. Distracting you from Cassian sneaking up and lifting you high up onto his shoulders, smashing his face right into your pussy. Your fingers claw at his shoulders for stability as you feel yourself teeter to and fro.

"Cass!" Squealing, you can't enjoy his tongue fucking into you since you're doing your best to not fall.

Doesn't help when you can feel the vibrations of Cassian's low chuckle.

Its hard to forget just how powerful your mates are. Reminded consistently by their massive muscles. Cassian's hands never quivered in holding you up above his face.

You shiver and go slack jawed.

There you go.

Shadows help you to steady yourself on Cassian's hands, giving him your absolute trust.

When he's satisfied with how wet you are, Cassian slowly moves you down onto his lap. Each inch of him you took in, you let out sweet little cries. Lewd squelches emit from your singing pussy, Azriel and Rhysand watch with rapt attention at the general's cock splitting you open.

Your high lord nudges at his spymaster.

Azriel obeys and right in the middle of a cry provoked by a particularly hard thrust on Cassian's end, Azriel shoves his cock into your wide open mouth. The back of your throat is punched by the tip of Azriel's cock, enticing your gag reflex to choke you. Corners of your mouth ache when your lips have to widen even more in order to take Azriel's fat dick. Your eyes burn with dewey tears and a silver string of saliva dribbles down your chin.

Cassian continues to fuck you harder and your muffled cries has Azriel's spine tingling and his cock twitching in your mouth as his hips continue to thrust in and out.

Even with Cassian supporting all of your weight, you find your thighs trembling and hips quaking every smack of Cassian's pelvis meeting your ass.

Surprisingly, Azriel's own rhythm matched that of Cassian's. They really did plan this out. Impressive.

"We had to plan things out. You could get hurt otherwise." Rhysand replies. He couldn't explain the immense arousal it gave him to watch his brothers spitroast you. To watch the veins in your throat bulge and your red face streaked as pleasure induced tears slip down your cheeks. Quite the sight to behold and the most beautiful image in the world to Rhys.

The same time your head was bobbing, so was your ass as Cassian lets out possessive growls that outwardly had him appearing vicious. Cass' grip on your thighs told him otherwise, it was one of assured strength that he would not let you fall.

He knew you always thought yourself to be the lucky one in the relationship. Lucky to brag of your three strong mates that could rule all of Prythian's courts if they developed the taste for it.

In all honesty, they were the ones who felt like the luckiest bastards.

A mate wasn't something they ever thought would be bestowed to them. Blood trailed behind them. Brutal childhood years that physically and mentally scarred them for life.

You were their reward for all those horrible years.

And he couldn't imagine sharing you with anyone else but his lifelong friends that were basically brothers to him.

You're slapped across the face as another climax seizes control of your limbs. Spasming against Cassian's face that was now utterly demolished by your slick that gave his lips a shiny glaze.

You don't give Azriel an opportunity to pull his member out of your mouth before he too is creaming against your tongue. Thick, long ropes that coats your esophagus.

Abruptly, Azriel rips his cock out of your mouth as Cassian flips you onto your back and with one hand, holds your knee ditch in place and truly pounds into your pussy that had your tits bouncing uncontrollably from the velocity. He's smacking your wet, overly sensitive clit using the flat of his fingers. You shriek, feeling your back swallowed up by the mattress below you. Cassian could crush all of your bones and you wouldn't give a flying fuck in that minute.

With one last, devastating thrust, Cassian spills his warmth into you.

Giving yourselves extra time to come down from yet another post-coital high, Cassian slips out from you and gently places your legs back down. He pats your flank like you're a brood mare. "Atta girl."

Unable to conjure the energy to laugh, instead you wheeze out a scoff and half-heartedly swat at his arm.

He casts Rhysand and Azriel a teasing grin. "She's ready."

Azriel, your usually sweet and gentle Azriel suddenly has a predatory glint in his eyes. "Spread her."

Working together, Rhysand and Cassian grab hold of one leg each; parting them so Azriel can lewdly examine his prey.

"Look at this." Azriel hums and swipes his finger along the slit of your pussy, collecting a bit of Cassian's cum on his index finger. "Already stuffed. I wonder if my cock can even fit in there with both Rhys' and Cass' cum."

Despite your heated blush that made you dizzy, your lips quirk up. "The only way to find out is to try."

With all of the mixed liquids coating your cunt, it was pretty easy for Azriel to slide half of his cock into you. The rest he eased in with a few rocks of his hips. A growl that comes from the pit of his stomach is ripped out of Azriel, his wings flaring out when he takes you. His brothers continue to possess a secure hold on your thighs as their eyes focus in on the contorting features of your face.

The pressure of his cock is enough to pin you down. Overwhelming even but you'd taken his shaft before and you were determined to do it again.

In order to do so, you will your body into complete, ragdoll obedience that relaxes your entire body; even the death grip the walls of your cunt had on Azriel. It garnered him more wiggle room to start bullying his cock further into you.

Rhys actually breathes out a soft laugh "Wow. . . is that what being 'cock drunk' looks like?"

Cassian groans and using his free hand begins to fist his dick. "Cock drunk on Az's cock, princess?"

Unable to laugh, instead Az's lips twitched into a grin; one of his hands roam to stroke your cheek. You're thoughtlessly nodding along to whatever Cassian was saying. All you understood were the two words "Az's" and "cock".

For a second, you really do fear that Azriel will split you in half when his length pushes past the sensitive roof of your pussy and rams its head against your cervix.

Each love tap had your toes curling inward and your eyes rolling back.

Another?

Greedy girl. Do you even know how many times you've come?

You squeal, hips meeting Azriel's in perfect synchronicity. They can taunt you all they wanted. As much as they made you cock drunk, the three of them were completely pussy whipped.

In retaliation Rhysand gives your nipple a harsh tug. "You'll pay for that later, sweetling."

Exhausted was an understatement.

All four of you lay in a disgusting heap of limbs and collective sweat. Half of Cassian's body hung off the edge of the bed. He didn't mind. At least he was able to cool off even his foot was basically touching the ground and put a few inches between himself and Azriel. You lay between the spymaster and the high lord. Waters were retrieved after the fun was officially over.

Now you lay with your mates sated and unspeakably happy.

Your inner musings have Rhysand smiling. He turns your face toward him using but his fingers on your chin. "We live to make you happy." Rhysand languidly kisses you, enjoying the flavor upon your lips. A combination of everyone's juices. They would help you get to the bath. Eventually.

"I'm taking it the princess was satisfied?" Cheekily grinned Cassian.

You laugh though it costs your body to wince in slight discomfort. "Yes. If you didn't notice, I quite enjoyed myself."

Azriel nuzzles his nose along the length of your neck. Mentally you make a note that you'd have to visit the dressmaker so that they could alter your gowns to make them cover your neck and chest. Without context, many would assume the red marks all over your body was a sign of disease. Showing up to a professional meeting with hickeys all over your body wouldn't bode well either.

"Lets try double penetration next time!" Chimes Cassian.

Mother be good, these boys were certainly going to be the death of you.

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @a-courtof-azriel

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sleepingelvhen · 11 months ago

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Ah, the men with their fluffy hair and their multi step routines.

Because Jing Yuan definitely takes very good care of that fluffy mane, and I bet it's so damn soft and silky. Jing Yuan and his sleepy self, overwhelmed by work, relaxing in a shower or bath at the end of the day, happy to maintain his hair because he finds it more relaxing than taxing.

Jing Yuan, who smells like Sandalwood and Yuzu and whose skin is so soft to the touch from the lotion he wears. Self care isn't a chore for him. It's a reward after a long day of boring paperwork or training. Spa days are every day and are just as enjoyable to him as a game of star chess.

Imagine how mornings are with him. How he avoids getting up early at all costs, pressing his face into your neck, and pretending that he's still deep asleep. He might even do a soft, fake, snore if you try to shake him awake. Because he's not getting up. He never gets enough sleep, and you're so warm. He could just fall right back into the nice dream he was having.

Jing Yuan and his love for playing board games with you. He's not just amazing at star chess. He loves other strategic games. Don't expect him to go easy on you, though. How else are you gonna learn how to beat him?

Imagine how easily he could distract you while playing. He's staring at you, eyes half lidded, and a little lazy smile on his lips. He's watching you make decisions - watching you think - and he finds it so attractive. His smile will stretch into a grin when you notice him staring, feeling triumphant when you blush.

Jing Yuan and how, when he has to go work, he will kiss you gently on the forehead, fingers gentle in your hair while he promises he'll be back later. Every time he dozed off at work, he's thinking of how he'd much rather be cuddled up next to you.

Imagine how happy he would be when his lion, Mimi, ends up adoring you. The large feline brushes up against you, licks your face, and even lays down on your lap, nearly suffocating you. Aeons, he'd be so happy, knowing that his love and his cat love each other too.

Jing Yuan would love to read to you rather than complain about how boring his day was. When he's home, he's trying to forget about his duties and relax. So then comes the nightly spa, with the long baths and showers, the lotions and massages, and him reading a book out loud to you by candlelight.

You're probably the first to fall asleep, surprisingly. As consistently tired as he is, Jing Yuan finds sleep eludes him many nights. Maybe it's the stress keeping him up, or his consistent worries that he prefers not to speak of, but he's still awake when you've passed out. Your head in his lap, his hand idly scratching your head or back while he just looks at you.

How lucky he is to have someone stay his side. How wonderful that you have not disappeared.

#reader insert #fanfic #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #reader imagine #hsr imagines #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #fluff #hsr fluff #jing yuan fluff #sfw fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #reader insert fanfiction

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catsandbats13 · 3 months ago

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So i made fan art for my own fanfic lmao

This scene in Scaryoke Scars has been stuck in my head for ages so i had to doodle it to exorcise it from my brain

The “grabbing someone by their lapels to kiss them” trope has always had me in a chokehold so there’s no way I wasn’t going to include that in my Stan x reader fic

I’m still writing the third part of the Scaryoke Scars series, but the first two fics are finished and on ao3!

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somedaylazysomeday · 2 months ago

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Good Intentions Part Twenty-Seven

The fallout from Silco's most recent stunt sends shockwaves through the Haven... but not as much as his latest attempt to ensnare you.

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Drug mentions, mentions of addiction and relapse, mentions of poisoning, innuendo, unprotected sex, restraints, emotional conversations, references to Silco's operations in Arcane Season One

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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The fallout from Silco’s stunt kept the Haven occupied for almost a month.

Not only had he leaked Shimmer into the streets, he had ordered his distributors to offer it at one-third the usual price. Anyone who wasn’t fully recovered had been unable to refuse an offer like that, and the patient relapses you’d seen in the neighborhood had numbered in the triple digits.

The only thing that had kept you going was that the neighborhood had poured out support for the Haven. Jazper and Ronid had come by with two additional doctors, hired temporarily to help assist with the recovery efforts. The other members of the Undercity Innovation Committee had donated other things: enough food to support the Haven without sparing volunteers for kitchen duty, free electrical and maintenance work, help writing grant proposals, and some extra donation money.

Even people who had nothing to do with governing the Undercity had reached out to support the Haven, doing everything from clearing rubble from the entrance to guarding the building at night.

It was humbling, and you worked around the clock to take care of everyone who had chosen to keep fighting their addiction.

Fortunately for both the Haven and the struggles of its patients, Silco’s Shimmer sale seemed to have been an isolated incident. The dealers had been pulled from the area and no one had seen them since that fateful night. It didn’t speed the recovery of the people who had been impacted, but it helped reduce the number of people who came in needing help.

An unexpected downside to Silco’s new, self-imposed business limitations was that he was doing his best to start communicating with you again.

Every day, you found a letter waiting outside of your door. More often than not, you found a different letter waiting on your desk at the end of the day. You had briefly started avoiding your office, but the envelopes appeared on your pillow.

No matter how many people you asked, no one admitted to delivering letters for Silco. Clearly, he had someone at the Haven who was willing to do some work on his behalf. The problem was that you had no idea how to figure out who it was. There were more unfamiliar faces in the Haven than familiar ones, these days, and it wasn’t as if you could start turning people away on suspicion that they were working for the head Chem Baron himself.

You suspected that Silco wanted to meet. It was only a suspicion, since you refused to read any of the letters. You didn’t know who was delivering them, so it wasn’t as if you could send them back to him unopened to make your point. You settled for burning them, leaving enough for whoever was sneaking into your office to see that you had never opened a single envelope.

But at last, the number of patients began to dwindle. Having beaten their Shimmer addictions back for the moment, people left the Haven. Some of them came back to work with other patients or to volunteer on a more permanent basis. That helped, but you were still relieved when the number of patients from the surprise Shimmer release returned to the single digits.

The day your borrowed doctors left the Haven was the day you finally relaxed. The remainder of the patients were in the final stages of their withdrawal and actively working toward recovery. Things were wrapping up nicely, but there was also the benefit of having fewer people in the Haven who could be delivering Silco’s letters.

And yes, you did feel bad about counting that as a benefit.

You stopped by your office that night, tired almost beyond reason. Perhaps that was the reason you were filled with near-rage at the sight of the envelope on your desk.

You snatched it up from the desk, but your hands refused to obey your commands from there. Instead of flinging it into the fireplace, they ripped it open and pulled the page free. Silco’s angular writing was difficult to read in the shivering light of the fire, but you managed.

My dearest philanthropist,

I would say that I have given up all hope of you reading my letters, but I know two things: firstly, that you are insatiably curious. If you were not, I believe our association would not have lasted nearly so long as it has.

Secondly, and more importantly, you know that I would not reach out idly. Surely you know me well enough by now to suspect that I would make an offer.

Of course, you would have recognized far earlier than this that I was interested in bargaining with you, but it has been reported to me that you have yet to open a single one of my letters.

Before I propose any further deals, I will assume you are still upset about your lost opportunity to work for Piltover. Have you not yet realized that I acted as I did as a favor to you? Piltover has never worked toward any ends that did not benefit them directly. It is likely that they would have positioned you as a scapegoat when their task force failed… and it would have.

In any case, you would have lost your reputation in the Undercity as surely as you believe it has suffered across the river. The recovery of a reputation in Zaun is a far longer and more arduous process than it is in Piltover.

I find myself rambling in this letter, and I blame you. With no guarantee of when you will finally open one of my messages, I am forced to write from somewhere softer than my mind. Perhaps not my heart, but somewhere nearer its vicinity than I am accustomed.

Allow me to make my offer before this letter grows still longer: come to The Last Drop. I want to discuss terms with you face-to-face. For my end of the deal, I will vow to keep Shimmer from ever entering the Haven’s neighborhood again. You can decide what you are willing to give in exchange.

I hope to see you soon, sweetheart.

- Silco

You stared at the page long after you had finished reading. You didn’t trust Silco’s offer - not in the slightest. But if there was a chance you could keep Shimmer off of the streets permanently, wouldn’t you be far more foolish not to look into it?

That was what had gotten you into this mess, and the one before it, and the one before that, but what was your alternative? If there was any hope you could help someone, how could you refuse to take the risk? Even if you were the one who would suffer if that hope turned out to be false.

You didn’t burn the envelope. Not because you were tired, or feeling sentimental. If you were going to show up at The Last Drop, you were going to make sure Silco knew you were coming. Whoever was leaving the envelopes had clearly told him that they were going unread. With any luck, they would report back to him that you had read this one.

Silco would know what it meant.

You slept soundly that night, dreams held at bay for the first time in well over a week. The plan had been formulated, and there was nothing left to do until the following day.

Just after ten the next morning, you left the Haven. Okkan had wanted to come with you, but you had assured him and Fletcher that you were fine. Yi was sleeping after her late guard shift; she would have been much more difficult to convince.

The Lanes were quiet, as they always were in the morning. In the weak midmorning light, you could almost consider them peaceful. Fortunately, you also weren’t stupid, so you kept your guard up to avoid any enterprising and motivated pickpockets deciding to practice their craft first-thing in the morning.

The door to The Last Drop was unlocked, and you let yourself in without a fuss. If the unlocked door hadn’t convinced you that Silco knew you were coming, the sight of the main bar would have.

The mismatched tables and chairs that typically filled the space in front of the bar had been cleared away. Instead, there was a small table draped with a white tablecloth and topped with a small flower arrangement. Chairs sat on either side of the table, angled so that neither had its back to the main door.

“Good morning,” Silco greeted, walking around the bar.

He looked incredibly… domestic. His sleeves were rolled up so he could carry a silver tray with a cover on it. You watched dumbly as he set the tray on the table, worried for a moment that it would hold a severed head or something equally horrifying, but he removed the cover to reveal breakfast.

The plates, both bearing your favorite breakfast - when had he found that out? - were placed in front of either seat, while a smaller dish of pastries ended up beside the flowers. Silco tucked the tray and the cover behind the bar and rejoined you.

“Do not worry,” he told you with a smile. “I remember that you do not trust the food I offer you. You choose your preferred seat and I will gladly sample everything first so you know it is trustworthy.”

You frowned for a moment, wracking your mind for what he could be talking about. At last, a shadowy memory appeared, one in which you were waiting for your first meeting with Silco. You hadn’t touched the food he had sent out for you. Apparently, he was determined that the same thing wouldn’t happen again.

You took a seat, watching as Silco sat opposite you. He cut a bite of food, checking to be sure that you were watching him.

“You don’t need to do that,” you told him quietly. He paused, eyes searching your face intently. “If you were going to kill me, you would just kill me. Poison isn’t really your style.”

Silco’s smile faded. “I would prefer that you trust me because I have proven myself trustworthy, but I suppose that is a point well-made. Poison has never been a favorite tool of mine, and never one I would deploy against you.”

You hummed skeptically and took a bite of your breakfast without further comment.

“If I may,” Silco said, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you, “what drove you to open one of my letters?”

You pondered the question, taking a sip of water before offering your answer. “I’m not really sure. Maybe I just hoped you had something worthwhile to say.”

Silco’s polite smile turned to something sharper. “And I assume, from your presence here, that you were satisfied?”

The way he purred ‘satisfied’ wreaked havoc on your body, not least because your psyche had decided that now was the perfect time to play back all of the hyper-realistic dreams you’d had about him over the past month.

With any luck, none of that was showing on your face. “Maybe I’m just curious to see what price you plan to ask in exchange for keeping Shimmer off of the streets.”

Silco’s face grew serious once more. “I meant what I wrote. You name what you are willing to give for it.”

“Last time, you had a specific price in mind,” you remarked, half-hoping for another smirk.

Silco didn’t take the bait. “I mean for this to be a negotiation, one taking place between two equal parties. You name your offer and I will decide if it is fair.”

A distinct throb between your thighs let you know that your libido would be thrilled to make the same deal as you had last time. Your brain warned that it was a bad idea, but that voice was growing steadily quieter under the flood of lust surging through your body.

It would be easier, you realized, if Silco just wanted your body. If you could narrow down what he wanted to something as simple and limited as the option to fuck you a few times a month.

But in the light of your newly realized feelings, you couldn't ignore that he hadn't done that. Silco hadn't given any hint of what he might want from you, but he also hadn't limited you to making offers based on physical pleasure.

It was so much worse. You would rather keep yourself from having any hope at all rather than risk everything for the slim possibility that he felt a shadow of what you did.

You set your fork down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You had come here for a purpose - to keep Shimmer away from the Haven. It didn't matter if doing that meant denying yourself. You were used to that. The important thing was helping people. That was all that had ever been important.

“If we want this to be a business discussion, maybe we should go to your office,” you suggested. Silco watched you blankly, and you expanded, “I've seen you do quite a bit of business and none of it ever happened in an empty bar.”

“Would you care to finish your breakfast first?” Silco asked.

Your stomach was right with nerves, with fear that you wouldn't be able to come to an agreement with him. Even the few bites you had taken were sitting heavily.

You shook your head. “Not unless you need the time to finish yours.”

Silco stood immediately. “Unnecessary. Follow me.”

You were amused despite yourself as you followed Silco to his office. It wasn't as if you hadn't been there before - you knew the way. But if he wanted to lead, there was something more to it. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he was willing to have you at his back.

Silco’s office was precisely the same as it had been the last time you were there. The desk spoke of the messy mind and busy life of someone doing his best to rule a city. The wicked-looking lance he used for his eye was kept carefully behind the desk, but it was softened slightly by the neon doodles on the handle. The furniture was just as austere as ever, though it was less intimidating when you could vividly remember every time you had been sprawled naked across each surface.

Somehow, it felt like home, and that made your stomach tighten reflexively with nerves.

Silco sat behind his desk, motioning for you to sit across from him. When you did, he folded his hands on the desk’s surface, fixing you with a mismatched stare. “If you prefer to get straight to business, let us do so. What are you willing to give me in exchange for the Haven’s neighborhood remaining free of Shimmer?”

You smiled mirthlessly. “I have nothing you want.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, my dear,” Silco said, openly admiring you.

The exchange was familiar, a faint echo of the conversation that had started you both on this path. There was a gleam in Silco’s eyes, a fond reminiscence that made you want to smile at him in earnest.

But you gathered your willpower and shook your head. “We can’t make that deal again, remember? When you came to the Haven last month, you said that was the only chance to resume our original deal. I turned you down.”

“I could be persuaded to make an exception.”

You arched a brow. “Really? This would be the first time I’ve ever seen it. Why?”

“I miss you,” he admitted openly. When you frowned, he leaned toward you. “No lies or manipulations - I have missed you. I have felt your absence every day since we ended our meetings.”

“You missed me, so you released Shimmer outside of the Haven?” you asked, wincing at the open hurt in your voice. “You missed me so badly that the only thing you could do was try to destroy everything I’ve worked toward for the past few years of my life?”

“I had to-” Silco broke off with a rueful laugh. “I had to give you a reason to come back to me.”

You gaped. “So you-?”

Silco raised his hand, cutting off your protestations. “No, pet, let me say this. I need to, and I need you to listen. And if you still hate me afterward, I will let you live in peace. No more Shimmer and no more contact with me, I give you my word.”

After a moment of consideration, you sat back in your chair and motioned for him to continue.

With a deep breath, he did. “I know you have no need for me. Everything I provided for you, you are well capable of getting for yourself. You have managed without my security team, you found support for your Haven that has nothing to do with my donations, and you stood against Shimmer sales in the area. You have built a fine enterprise. I- I have nothing to offer you anymore.”

“So I had to resort to underhanded dealings.” Silco shook his head with a rueful little smile. “Perhaps you do not realize how well the Haven withstood my Shimmer. I pulled my dealers, but they were far less profitable than I had expected. I would have withdrawn them regardless. I did regret my actions, but they were born of desperation. You wouldn’t agree to a new deal, and I realized how capable you are even without assistance from me. ”

Silco pressed his hands against the desk’s surface, making grim eye contact with you. “I hoped that I could push you into answering me. More than that, I hoped to force you into making another deal with me, into seeing that you could not survive down here without my protection. I was wrong. You have made a place for yourself here and - more importantly - you have found a way to care for the people of Zaun. I see what you have done to change and shape their lives and it has forced me to accept what I have known for months: I am yours.”

The kind thing would be to say something in reply to that revelation. You wanted to, but it was so far from anything you had expected him to say that you couldn’t do anything but gape at him. Silco’s gaze stayed trained on your face, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth that spoke of nervousness.

“If-” You broke off to clear your throat, trying to make your voice sound less waveringly uncertain. “If you aren’t being sincere, please don’t say that. Don’t joke about it or use it to manipulate me. Please.”

“Manipulate you?” Silco repeated, sounding irritated. “Pet, you don’t seem to understand that I have done the very opposite. I have given you the keys to everything I can offer. I have given you the simplest possible way to manipulate me.”

“I wouldn’t,” you assured him instantly. He lifted a brow and you repeated, “I wouldn’t.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” he asked. “You could everything you wanted without being required to give anything in return-”

“Because I care about you, Silco,” you snapped.

Immediately afterward, a deathly silence fell in the office and you leapt to your feet. There was nothing to do but leave after that.

You didn’t make it even halfway to the door before Silco caught your arm, holding you steady as he stared down into your face.

“If you are being insincere, please don’t say that.” You might have thought he was mocking you if he hadn’t looked so terribly concerned.

“Silco, why would I possibly lie about that?” you asked. “If you’re right and you’ve given me everything, why would I lie about my feelings? To not use the keys you gave me?”

“You-” It wasn’t often that you saw Silco thrown off his game, but he seemed to struggle to find the right words. “You love me?”

Strictly speaking, neither of you had said anything about love. But in the privacy of your thoughts, you had realized weeks ago that your feelings for Silco had run deeper than you had ever assumed. There was no other reason you would still care about him after everything he had done.

Besides, you had already come this far.

“Yes.”

Silco was studying you with the stunned, slightly suspicious look of a mad scientist watching a successful experiment and you were starting to think this entire meeting had been a mistake.

“Maybe we should-”

Your suggestion was left forever unfinished as Silco kissed you suddenly, deeply, and with such fierceness that it took your breath away. When your lungs were screaming, you pushed him away. He didn’t go far, staying close enough that you could feel his rapid breathing across your kiss-swollen lips.

“Feels like we should talk about this.”

Silco chuckled against your neck. “I can think of several more productive ways we could spend our time…”

Everything in your body voiced a sudden and vehement opinion that Silco was right, and that sounded like a much better idea. You lifted your face for another kiss and Silco was quick to indulge you.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. There was kissing and touching and the marvelous scent of Silco - how could you have missed one person so much? - and when it was over, you were lying naked on his bed. Silco was finishing stripping off his own clothes, eyes already devouring you with a predatory eagerness that probably should have scared you.

When he was as bare as you, Silco joined you on the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, kissing every bit of skin he could reach and exploring the rest with his wandering hands. You arched against him, fighting for as much contact as possible. It was like your body was drinking him in, soaking up everything you had been missing out on since your deal had been on pause.

Silco’s fingers were even more dextrous than you remembered, plying your flesh and molding you still closer. If there was a breath of space between you, it was only so that he could sneak a touch into that same spot. You felt like you were on fire, but it only drove you to kiss him with more desperation.

When you couldn’t stand it anymore, you reached down and took his length in a firm grip. The heat of him throbbed in your hand and Silco’s natural eye went heavy-lidded. He leaned forward to press another kiss to your lips, pulling away just far enough to whisper, “Missed you, pet.”

It reminded you so strongly of the vivid dreams you had experienced that you nipped his lip to see if he would react like a real person. If you were dreaming again, you would be incredibly disappointed…

Silco pulled back with a garbled curse before plundering your mouth, delivering a wicked pinch to your hip at the same time. He took full advantage of your gasp to deepen the kiss even further.

Without any clear thought or plan, you tightened your legs around his narrow hips and rolled, forcing him to the mattress while you straddled him from above. Your hands moved back down to his cock, teasing the head of it against the throbbing point of your clit.

Silco bared his chipped teeth up at you. “You’re killing me, lovely.”

“Can’t- mmmm… Can’t help it,” you babbled. “Feel so good…”

You bucked mindlessly on top of him until both of you were thoroughly slicked up and aching, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the sensation long enough to line yourself up with him.

That horrible, shining thread of tension broke for both of you at the same moment. Silco’s eyes narrowed and his fingers dug into your hips, lifting just as you planted your feet to do the same.

Despite your best joint efforts, you weren’t properly aligned and the two of you slid against each other awkwardly. Silco growled while you let out what could only be termed a whine, but the frustration seemed to sharpen your concentration. The second time you tried to impale yourself on him, your breath caught at the feeling of his head notched against your entrance.

Then you were lowering yourself and Silco was thrusting upward and he slid home with a teeth-rattling slam. If there was anyone else in The Last Drop, they would have heard your cry. It bounced off the high ceiling, echoing back to you in a cacophony of ecstasy that only drove you and Silco higher.

If you had thought grinding against Silco felt wonderful, it was nothing compared to the tremendous depth of pleasure you felt at having him so deeply inside of you. All you could do was lift and lower, fucking yourself on him as Silco’s hands took some of your weight and tried to speed your movements.

The slap of flesh meeting flesh was loud in the room, almost drowning out the shaking breaths that you and Silco were panting. His thumb found your clit, drawing a quick circle before he pressed down against the sensitive nerve cluster. It made you tighten desperately around him and Silco swore vividly.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from repeating the torment.

“I’m going- going to-” Your voice was far beyond breathy. It was almost reedy with the effort it was taking to stave off your impending orgasm.

Silco groaned, loud and hoarse. “Been dreaming about the way you feel when you come around my cock. Come for me, darling. Show me everything I’ve been missing.”

As if he had some sort of direct line into your nerves, the muscles of your core started to flutter and spasm, constricting around him like you were going to collapse in on yourself.

That was more true than you realized. If there was ever a person in your life who felt like a black hole, it was Silco. Mysterious and fascinating and utterly unknowable. It was a strange series of thoughts to have during an orgasm, but your mind was locked into it by that point. Silco was such an outsized presence in your life, and to think that he loved you… well, it was almost beyond what your mind could comprehend.

Then your mind went fuzzy and you didn’t have to worry about comprehending anything anymore. All that was left was pleasure and heat and the feeling of Silco fucking upward into you with every bit of force he could muster. He buried himself deep as he came, spreading more heat through your core and dripping out to smear between you.

When your shaking thighs refused to hold you up any longer, you collapsed forward and onto his chest. Silco held you there, arms tight around you as you both caught your breath, then rolled you gently to one side so he could curl himself against your back.

“I cannot believe you exist,” he murmured, tracing a tickling line over your temple. “And the idea that you love me… it is impossible.”

You smiled despite yourself. “I feel the same way about you loving me.”

He kissed your fingertips, humming softly as he folded your hand into his.

Eventually, the flood of hormones receded enough for you to think clearly. “Silco? What does this-? Do we-? What, exactly, does this change?”

Silco chuckled softly, and you felt the warmth of it against the nape of your neck. “As much or little as you’d like, pet. The Haven will be under my protection, but I can be as subtle about it as you’d like. And there will be no Shimmer in the neighborhood.”

You thought that over for a while. The idea of Silco having a hand in the Haven again made you a little uncomfortable, but more for appearance’s sake than any real concern. And the majority of people had already proven that their morals were performative - you were horrible and the Haven was worthless… until they needed something.

In the end, you relaxed against Silco. “This city isn’t going to know what hit it.”

Silco laughed - a genuine, happy sound totally unlike the sardonic smirks you usually saw from him. “Too true, my little philanthropist. You and I united will be a force unlike anything they’ve ever seen.”

“I have a few ideas on where to start,” you confided, eyelids drooping with weariness.

“I do, as well,” Silco agreed. “In fact, I’ve already begun the preparations for our final push for freedom.”

You hummed, nearly asleep already. Silco pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and you stirred yourself back to wakefulness. “Hmm? You have a final push worked out?”

“Of course.” Silco sounded affectionately amused, as if it was adorable that you thought he would do anything without planning it fully. “I’ve hired a scientist to work out the details. He tells me the final product will take a few years to develop, but we have the time. We can continue our improvements to Zaun until then.”

You were fully awake by that point, frowning blankly at the far wall. “Wait…” With some effort, you wiggled around until you were facing Silco directly. “You’ve hired someone to work on… what? What is this product? Sounds like you already have some things set in stone.”

“Not quite, darling,” Silco assured you. “Just putting some pieces in place. I’ll still need to work out the final plan. In fact, I would welcome your help with that.”

“Okay, but say I want some of the details now,” you pushed. “What product are you having developed?”

He sighed, rolling back on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. “Very well, since you are so interested… It is a compound, similar to Shimmer in some ways, but not addictive. Not in the slightest.”

Your hum was distinctly skeptical. “But what does it do?”

“It mimics the increased adrenaline and reduced pain reception of the user,” Silco explained. “The adrenaline allows the user to push their body past many natural limits. They will accomplish incredible things.”

You tensed, fighting the urge to sit upright. “So it turns people into super soldiers. But what about after the effects have subsided? Are there negative health impacts? And even if it isn’t chemically addictive, people can become obsessed with feeling like they have that kind of power.”

“It isn’t addictive because the user rarely survives,” Silco said, finally looking at you once more. You flinched, and he cupped your cheek. “This is precisely why I wished to spare you the details. You have a the ideals of a dreamer, despite your willingness to fight for a good cause.”

“You’re planning to have people take a drug that will probably kill them.” You shook your head slowly. “What cause could be worth that? Scaring Piltover?”

“No, I have no use for frightening them,” Silco said, grimacing. “They are fearful enough already. My soldiers would be dispensed to fight off guards, infiltrate the city, and clear the way to the Piltover Council.”

“And-” Your pulse was thundering so hard that your voice shook with it. “And when you get to the Council?”

“I kill them all, of course.”

You gaped at that, horrified by the casual ease of his answer. Silco seemed oblivious to your feelings, kissing and nipping along the sensitive skin of your throat.

“Silco, you can’t do that,” you said, gently pushing him away.

He blinked at you, the beginnings of irritation growing on his face. “And why, precisely, can I not?”

“Because you can’t take Piltover by force!”

“No, I cannot,” Silco agreed, a sly smile growing on his face. “Not yet, at least. But the initial trials are more than promising.”

“This isn’t an option,” you argued. “You’ll do even more harm if you come in by attacking the Council and using drugged soldiers as your muscle.”

A muscle ticced in Silco’s jaw, and you changed your tone to a logical one instead. “Think of it this way: if you take the city by force, you’ll hold it for a while. You’re clever and you have the ability to draw followers. But if you present yourself as a powerful enemy, the people will combine forces to fight against you. They will always see you as an invader to repel. You’ll never manage to quell the resistance to Zaun.”

“Have you already forgotten that I’ll have an army powered by one of the most potent substances ever developed in this city?” Silco asked archly.

“You’ll have a single-use army,” you countered. “And as more and more of them sacrifice themselves for this war, you’ll have fewer and fewer supporters willing to fight for you.”

“Then I’ll make it so they have no choice but to fight for me,” Silco bit out.

You furrowed your brows, studying him more intensely than you had since you first met. There was nothing but resolve in his expression, and you knew without further questioning that you wouldn’t change his mind. He was going to destroy Piltover - and, in doing so, he would destroy any hope for the nation of Zaun.

With a sigh, you tossed back the covers he had tucked over you and made to rise from the bed.

Silco caught at your wrist, pinning it to the mattress. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going to convince you to change your plan, and you’re not going to convince me that it’s a good idea.” You smiled sadly at him. “It seems we’ve finally found something we cannot agree on.”

You tugged a little harder at your wrist, but Silco held firm. “But you love me and I love you. You’ve admitted as much.”

“I do love you,” you agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can support you in this. Whatever concessions you were going to make for the Haven, consider them either paid for or unaccepted. I think it would be best if we don’t meet up again.”

The cool slither against your skin was followed by two distinct clicks. You turned slowly, both knowing and dreading what you would see when you did: Silco had handcuffed you to one of the rings embedded in his headboard.

“Silco, take this off of me.” You managed to keep your voice even despite the panic rising in your chest.

“No.”

You couldn’t help but pull against the metal encircling your wrist. It did nothing but make you feel more trapped. “Silco!”

“No,” he snapped again, voice harsh enough to make you stop struggling momentarily. “I lost you once. I don't intend to be so careless as to allow it to happen a second time.”

“Silco,” you pleaded, striving for a less confrontational tone. “This is insane. I can't just stay locked in your room.”

“We love each other,” he reminded you, buttoning his pants. “Everything else will work out in time.”

And then he left, slipping shirtless into his office. You tugged fruitlessly at the handcuffs and tried to keep your breathing steady.

---

Author's Note - They were SO CLOSE to a happy ending. But Silco will always be Silco and our dear reader just can't handle some of his more pragmatic plots.

We're in the final stretch now, friends! Only a few more chapters until the end of this story.

Thank you for reading! If I can ask a favor, I haven't had the chance to watch any of Arcane Season Two yet, so if you choose to review (thank you!), please try to avoid including any spoilers. I can tell from my tumblr notifications on this story that Silco must be in S2, but I'm trying not to know how much or in what capacity. I'll try to be caught up by the time I post the next chapter.

I'll see you soon!

#good intentions #good intentions fic #arcane netflix #arcane fanfiction #arcane reader insert #silco #arcane silco #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #silco x reader #silco x fem!reader #silco x you #not suitable for minors #minors dni #spicy #lemon

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burntsecrets · 4 months ago

Text

Guilty as Sin

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1460

Prompt: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift

Summary: As the new girl in town, you’ve been warned to stay away from Eddie Munson, the school freak, but the fantasy of being with him consumes your thoughts until you can't tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Warnings: Intense fantasy and obsession, emotional confusion and guilt, unsolicited warnings and social judgment.

You’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the sideways glances, the unsolicited warnings.

"Eddie Munson? Seriously?" they say, with raised eyebrows and skeptical smirks, as if the very idea of him being more than the school freak is incomprehensible. They don’t know him, not really. They only see what they want to see—wild hair, heavy metal shirts, and those infamous D&D campaigns he holds in the Hellfire Club. To them, he’s the guy who didn’t fit, who refuses to blend into the mundane.

But you... you've seen something different.

It’s a fantasy, isn't it? Or maybe it’s more than that. Either way, you can’t shake the thoughts—the ones that creep into your mind late at night when the world is quiet, and you’re alone with only your imagination to keep you company. That’s when Eddie Munson becomes more than just a distant figure at the back of the classroom. In those moments, he’s yours.

You can see it so clearly, sometimes too clearly. It feels real, almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you. The way he’d hold your hand under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The way his voice would drop when he talks to you, low and rough, as if every word is a secret shared just between the two of you. His laughter—God, his laughter—ringing in your ears, free and genuine, breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.

You can imagine what they would say if they knew. The judgment, the disbelief. They’ve already told you who Eddie is supposed to be—a troublemaker, a loser, not boyfriend material. But they don’t know him. They don’t know the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one’s looking or how he’s always watching out for the ones who are as out of place as he is. You’ve seen it—those moments where the mask slips and the real Eddie shines through.

Sometimes, you think you’re losing it. The lines blur between what’s real and what’s imagined, and you can’t help but wonder... are these just fantasies, or are they memories? Did you really feel his lips brush against yours one day, soft and hesitant, or was that just another one of your wild daydreams? You remember the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way your heart raced when he whispered your name, but no... that couldn’t have happened. Could it?

It’s all in your mind. You’re drowning in the fantasy of him, and you let yourself sink deeper because reality—without him—is too dull, too empty. You picture him standing in front of you, sending a shiver down your spine as he leans in close, his breath warm against your skin. You’ve never kissed him, not really, but you imagine it every time you close your eyes. Messy top lip kiss. How you long for it, crave it, even though you’ve never felt it for real. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because in your head, you’ve already done it all.

They don’t understand. The guilt you feel, the way your heart aches every time someone tells you to forget him. But how can you forget someone who’s carved himself so deeply into your thoughts, into your very being? How can you be guilty as sin for something that’s never happened yet feels more real than anything else?

There’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want and what you’re allowed to have. Every day feels like you’re standing at the edge, staring down at the abyss, wondering if you should take that leap. But then you think of him—Eddie—and you know you’d jump, without hesitation, if it meant being with him. Even if it’s just in your mind.

You keep recalling things you never did. The stolen glances across the room, the way he’d smile at you when no one else was watching. The way you feel his hands on your waist, his lips against your ear, even though he’s never touched you. How can you be so sure it hasn’t happened? Because every time you think of him, it feels like you’re slipping, falling back into that fantasy, deeper and deeper until you can’t tell where it ends.

Maybe that’s why it feels so dangerous. You imagine the world finding out, the judgment that would rain down on you. They’d crucify you for loving him, for daring to dream of something different, something real. What if he’s written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind? The thought makes you shiver because it feels true. It feels like something only you know, something sacred, even if it exists only in the corners of your mind.

And yet, you can’t stop. You won’t stop. Even if it’s all make-believe, it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that feels right. You’ve chosen him, Eddie Munson, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re insane. You’ve screamed his name in the dead of night, whispered his secrets into the darkness, and you’ve built a world where it’s just the two of you.

So what if it’s not real? It’s real enough. Without ever touching his skin, you know what it’s like to be his. You’ve built your desires, your longings, into something that feels like a vow, a promise neither of you will ever break. You don’t need to touch him to know what it would be like. You already know.

And then it happens. You’re standing at your locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts of him again. It’s the same fantasy as always—you imagine him walking up to you, leaning against the lockers with that lazy grin that makes your knees weak. You picture him teasing you, something playful in his voice as he inches closer until his lips are just inches from yours. It’s a scene you’ve replayed a hundred times in your head.

This is where it always happens. Where you lose yourself in the daydream, where the fantasy becomes so vivid you almost forget it isn’t real. You can practically feel his presence beside you, smell the faint scent of cigarettes and leather, his warmth cutting through the cold, distant reality of the school hallways.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Hey, new girl,” he says, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skips, the sensation so real it almost startles you. You blink, forcing yourself to remember that this is just another dream, just another figment of your imagination. You’ve been here before, conjuring him up in the quiet spaces of your mind, letting yourself believe, if only for a moment, that he’s really standing in front of you. But this time, it’s different. There’s something about the way his eyes lock onto yours, intense and knowing. Something about the smirk that curls at the edge of his lips.

It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be.

But when he leans in closer, your breath hitches. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft brush of his lips as he whispers something you can’t quite hear. The world around you blurs, and for a second, you forget what’s real and what isn’t.

And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips press against his—tentative, soft at first, almost like you’re testing the boundary between reality and fantasy. But he’s warm, solid. You feel the way he kisses you back, his hand brushing against your cheek, pulling you deeper into the moment.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the haze, and you pull back, breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and for a split second, you look into his eyes, waiting for the illusion to shatter, for the fantasy to slip away as it always does.

But he doesn’t fade. He stands there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that sends another shiver down your spine.

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back, still half-convinced that the world will snap back into focus and you’ll be standing alone, as you always are. You turn, walking away as your heart continues to race, the kiss still tingling on your lips. You tell yourself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

But then, from across the hall, Eddie watches you go, his smile still lingering on his lips. He touches his mouth like he’s savoring the kiss, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it just happened, either.

And as you disappear into the crowd, the truth lingers in the air—this time, it wasn’t a fantasy.

This time, it was real.

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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!!! Would it be possible to write for hatori sohma from fruit basket childhood friend to lover with a some angst and fruff at the end of

Thank you😊

aww okay we NEED to do this 🥹

Hatori Sohma realizing you're more than a friend to him

Pairing: Hitori x reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: You were around since he can remember. You, the only sunshine in his life, that woman he never gets tired of looking at. It takes Hitori too long to finally confess his feelings to himself. And then he's about to ruin everything...

Warnings: hurt to comfort, friends to lovers, this is sooo fluffy hehe

Hatori Sohma is not a man who easily surrenders to the urges of emotion. The weight of his family’s curse, the pain of his own heartache, and the gravity of his responsibilities have forged him into a man who exists with quiet detachment in the shadows since that one fateful day. And yet, as you sit across from him at Shigure’s dinner table, laughing softly at one of Shigure’s ridiculous remarks, Hatori finds himself lost in thoughts he was never prepared to face.

You’ve been his friend for years - a steady presence in his life, like the moon hanging quietly in the night sky whenever he needs it. While others come and go, bringing chaos and change, you’ve always been there, offering your unwavering kindness and support. A warmth he has leaned on more times than he’d care to admit.

Still, he didn’t even dare to think about you as someone other than a friend. He’s always been careful to sort his feelings when it came to you, forcefully avoiding that little skip of his heart whenever he saw you.

Especially after Kana. Loving her, only to have the curse of the Sohma family destroy what both could have been, left scars he’s not sure will ever fully heal. He buried those wounds deep, vowing not to allow himself the vulnerability of love again. Not when it always means agony. Not when he’ll never live a normal life like all those other men walking around the world.

But lately, his heart has been betraying him, and today, watching Shigure lean a little too close to you while you laugh, it stings in a way he doesn’t know how to rationalize.

Earlier in the day, it was Ayame who started to chip away at the walls Hatori keeps so carefully constructed.

“I must say, Haa-san,” Ayame had declared, lounging dramatically on one of Shigure’s couches, “it’s almost tragic how blind you are to your own emotions.”

Hatori sighed, pushing up his glasses. He had little patience for Ayame’s theatrics at the best of times, and today was no exception. Why again this talk?

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

“Ah, denial,” Ayame said with a flourish, “the first stage of awakening!”

Shigure, who had been scribbling something in a notebook, looked up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What Ayame means, Haa-san, is that you’re rather obvious when it comes to a certain someone.”

Hatori froze in place. Shigure and Ayame exchanged a knowing glance that made his stomach twist. Were they talking about…you?

“If you’re going to make a point, do it quickly,” he remarked, his tone colder than he intended.

Ayame smirked, unbothered by the sudden change of tone. Even though he’s so convinced no one knows, everyone saw the way Hatori looked at you earlier with that slight smile forming on his lips. Every one knows about that picture of you he keeps well hidden in his purse.

“The point, dear Haa-san, is that your little friend has managed to do something extraordinary.”

“And what’s that?” Hatori inquired, already regretting engaging in the conversation.

“She’s gotten under your skin. (y/n), I mean”, Shigure interjected smoothly.

“In a good way, of course. You’re different around her - softer, more… alive.”

Hatori frowned, hating the way his heart skips a beat how it always does when someone talks about you.

“That’s absurd.”

“Is it?”

Shigure leaned back in his chair, a sly grin tugging at his lips that usually means nothing but trouble.

“You’re a careful man. But I think even you can’t deny that she means something more to you. The question is, are you going to do anything about it?”

Before Hatori could respond, Ayame clapped his hands together.

“Oh, this is so romantic! The brooding doctor and his steadfast friend, bound by years of quiet affection, only to realize the depth of their feelings amidst life’s trials! It’s like something out of a novel!”

Hatori pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re both insufferable.”

Now, hours later, Hatori finds himself replaying their words. As much as he wants to dismiss their observations, there’s a nagging truth to them that he can’t ignore. He does feel different around you. You have a way of making the world seem a little less heavy, of making him feel seen in a way no one else does. Even though you know about his curse, despite the fact that you’ve seen him and other Sohma’s turn into animals countless times by now, you never changed your soft attitude towards him.

Just the thought of losing you, even to something as harmless as Shigure’s playful flirting, fills him with an ache he doesn’t fully understand.

“Earth to Hatori,” Shigure teases, waving a hand in front of his face.

“You’ve been staring at your plate for the past five minutes. Is something on your mind?”, you add with your brows furrowed in that way that glues his eyes onto yours in an instant.

Hatori shakes his head, brushing off the question. But when he glances up, he sees you watching him with a quiet concern that makes his chest tighten.

“Are you feeling okay?” you ask softly, your voice laced with genuine care.

“I’m fine,” he replies, his tone measured. But the truth is, he feels anything but fine.

The evening continues, with Shigure and Ayame carrying most of the conversation. You join in here and there, your laughter like a melody that Hatori finds himself clinging to. He stays mostly silent, his thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s only after dinner, when Shigure retreats to his study and Ayame bids an overly dramatic farewell, that you and Hatori are left alone in the living room. The atmosphere shifts, quieter, more intimate. You’re seated on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, while he stands near the window, his gaze fixed on the garden outside.

“Hatori,” you say gently, breaking the silence. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been quiet tonight.”

He hesitates, the weight of your question pressing against him. How can he possibly put his feelings into words when he’s still struggling to make sense of them himself?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, though the words feel hollow.

You frown, clearly unconvinced. “You know you don’t have to keep everything to yourself, right? I’m here if you need someone to talk to.”

Your words are a lifeline, and for a moment, he considers taking it. But vulnerability doesn’t come easily to him. Instead, he deflects. “Shigure was particularly annoying tonight.”

You laugh softly. “He’s always annoying. That’s part of his charm.”

Hatori’s lips twitch in the faintest hint of a smile, but it doesn’t last. The conversation lulls, and the silence that follows is heavy with unspoken words.

After a moment, you rise from the couch and cross the room to stand beside him. The proximity is both comforting and disarming. You don’t press him further, but your presence alone feels like an invitation—to let down his guard, to let you in.

“Do you ever think about the past?” he asks suddenly, surprising even himself with the question.

“Sometimes,” you reply, your tone thoughtful. “But I try not to dwell on it too much. It’s easy to get stuck in what-ifs.”

He nods, his gaze still fixed on the garden. “I envy that about you. Your ability to move forward.”

“You can, too, you know,” you say softly. “It’s not easy, but it’s possible.”

Your words settle over him like a balm, your voice so comforting that he forgets that numb feeling in his stomach for a second. He turns to look at you, really look at you. The way your eyes meet his, full of understanding and something else, something he’s afraid to name, something he’d never speculates about, makes his heart stumble.

“I’m not sure I know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, and it’s the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through a storm.

What if you get hurt though?

Hatori can’t help but shake his head, breaking his gaze away from you. No, he can’t allow that to happen. He can’t come this close to you. What if he hurts you? Or what if you don’t feel the same way about him? Why would someone like you fall for him in the first place? You, known and loved by countless people, secretly admired by someone like Shigure as well. There’s no way you’d actually fall for him, right?

“You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Gently, you place your hand on top of his. But instead of welcoming the warmth of your palm, he jerks up in his seat and leaves without saying another word.

The days following the incident were unbearable - for you and for Hatori, though he would never admit it out loud. He avoided you with a determination that bordered on cruelty. Every time you tried to reach out, he found an excuse to slip away. He didn’t answer your calls, didn’t allow you to visit him, didn’t even text you back when you begged for a single sign of life. Not even Shigure and Ayame were able to drag him out of this hole. Hatori hated himself for hurting you, for pulling away when all he wanted was to be close to you. But the fear of losing you, of ruining your life just like Kana’s, was just too much to bear.

It’s for the best, he told himself so often that he lost count on that little walk alone. Staying in his apartment meant getting reminded of all the times you visited him and sat on that one chair while sipping tea out of your own personal mug no one else is allowed to use. He needed to get out there, needed some fresh air to calm his mind.

Not even this warm summer day is able to comfort him, though. Not when every beautiful flower on his way reminds him of you, not when he imagines you in all those dresses displayed in the shopping windows.

Not when you’re standing just a few feet away from him with Shigure by your side.

Shigure and…you?

There you are, walking beside Shigure, holding an ice cream cone and laughing at something he said. The sound of your laughter, so free and light, hits him like a punch to the gut. Shigure, ever the charmer, leans in closer than necessary, his expression playful as he licks his own ice cream.

Hatori’s heart twists painfully, hands balling into tight fists on their own. He doesn’t have the right to feel jealous, no right to claim you when he’s done nothing but pushing you away.

But watching Shigure, so at ease with you, stirs something primal in him, feelings he tried to drown multiple times already. The thought of losing you - to anyone, but especially to Shigure – becomes unbearable.

Like in trance, he steps back, away from the scene that might make him lose his mind. No, he can’t feel like this about you, he can’t allow himself to be jealous when you’re not even his. All he did those past weeks was pushing you away. You’re not his, you’ll never be.

Hatori slams his door shut harder than necessary before gliding down the cool wood.

What is he supposed to do now?

-later-

You’re sitting in your small apartment, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. The ice cream with Shigure had been nice, a kind effort of him to break you away from your train of thought, but it doesn’t erase the sadness you feel over Hatori’s sudden distance. What went wrong? Was it something you said, something you did? Was it because you tried to cheer him up by holding his hand that one evening? You didn’t really think about it twice, just tried to cheer him up when it was clear that he’s upset…

You can’t understand what went wrong. And it hurts more than you want to admit.

A knock at your door breaks through your thoughts. Did Shigure forget something or is he here to look after you. Maybe Tohru wanted to pay you a visit-

“Hatori?” you breathe out, your voice laced with surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything while you try to process the stinging fact that he’s really here. He simply looks at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the courage he needs.

Then, in a voice thick with emotion, he mutters, “Can I come in?”

Your mind goes blank, lips not able to move. He’s really here. He didn’t forget about you. He wants to…talk?

Like in trance, you step aside, letting him enter. The air between you is heavy with tension as he stands in your living room, his tall frame seeming out of place in the cozy little space you can afford. You wait, unsure of what to say, as he struggles to find the words himself.

Finally, he turns to you, his gaze intense.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” you mumble softly, though you already know the answer.

“For avoiding you. For pushing you away. For being…a coward.”

His voice is steady, but you can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way his hands clench at his sides.

“I thought I was protecting you. From me. From my life. But I see now that I was only protecting myself.”

Your heart aches at his words. Is this really how he feels about everything? Does he really think he’s a threat, a burden for you?

“Hatori, you don’t have to-”

“I do,” he interrupts, his tone firm.

“Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t…”

He trails off, taking a deep breath.

“That I don’t feel something for you. Something I’ve been too afraid to admit for a long time.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Is he trying to say that…

“Hatori…”

“I’m in love with you. I have been for longer than I care to admit. But I was so afraid. Afraid of hurting you. Afraid of losing you. Afraid that you couldn’t feel the same way”, he suddenly blurts out.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This can’t be real, right? Did he really ignore you because he thought he’d hurt or lose you. Did he really just say that he loves you? Him, the man you’ve kept your eye on for years by now?

“You thought I didn’t feel the same?”

He hesitates, the doubt still etched into his features.

“Why would you? You could have anyone. Someone without all the…baggage I carry.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you step closer to him. Just the thought of him feeling this way, of him suppressing his feeling because of something like that…

“Hatori, you’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one”, you reply with trembling voice.

For a moment, he simply looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours before taking it in his own.

“You…really mean it?”

“Of course I do!”, you breathe out while clinging onto his hand for what feels like dear life.

“But I didn’t want to rush you, especially after those past weeks. I felt like you don’t see me that way. And after what happened to Kana, I wasn’t sure if you’d give me a chance…”

“I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I don’t want to run anymore. I want to be with you, if you’ll have me.”

You smile through your tears, wrapping your arms around his arm the way you always imagined. Even though you’re not able to hug him the way he’d deserve it, you pour your heart and soul in this little moment. That moment you’ve been imagining in your head over and over again. That moment that fell apart in your mind those past weeks.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Hatori buries his face in your hair as the weight of his fears finally lifts. For the first time in a long time, he feels like he can breathe. And as you stand there together, he promises to himself that he will do whatever it takes to make you happy, to protect the love you’ve both found.

Because with you, he knows he can finally heal. Now he finally knows you're more than a friend.

Dividers by @saradikagrafics 🤍

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wing-ed-thing · 5 months ago

Text

... And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Part IV

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Naive!Servant!Reader, No Reader Pronouns, Canonically Mean Vinsmokes, But Reader is Kinda Into It, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Name-Calling, Language, Reader Falls First, Yonji Falls Harder, Choking, Mild Physical Violence

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: Yonji my love how i've missed you so

You took a step back in surprise.

“How may I assist you, Master Ichiji?” You immediately bowed.

Ichiji’s eyes made a sweep across the library before settling on you. He stepped forward, and you swiftly moved out of his way, pivoting to the side. But Ichiji positioned himself in front of you, staring forward before regarding you with the slightest turn of his head.

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing the underside of your chin with his middle and index finger clutching one side of your jaw while his thumb dug into your face. Ichiji held you, tilting your face from one side to the other.

“I came to see what the fuss was about.” His touch was harsh, but he wordlessly let you go to wander around the chamber.

Ichiji strolled over to the stability cases first. He said nothing as he opened the one you had just closed, studying the books inside as intently as he had studied your face. Ichiji glanced at the shelves to his left, noting the gaps in what should have been a fully stocked collection.

“Had you been ordered to perform an overhaul?” he hummed for as much as Ichiji could hum. He held the lid ajar with the heavy wooden lip resting between his knuckles like the weight was lighter than air.

“No, Master Ichiji,” you answered, crossing the room to stand closer. “Master Yonji requested that these titles be reserved—”

“Prince Yonji.” Ichiji was quick and stern in his correction. You couldn’t help but blink in confusion as you tried to rapidly piece together what Ichiji was getting at. You knew the longer you didn’t understand, the more annoyed and volatile Ichiji would become. That was a rule of thumb for any of the princes. But Ichiji didn’t leave you to your thoughts for longer than a second. “That is what you call him.”

You tried not to waver.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you confirmed.

“Why?” The question shot from Ichiji’s lips like an accusation.

Your mouth went dry. This hadn’t been the first time a prince had come into your humble workspace to make demands as he tried to reach some undisclosed point. It hadn’t even been the first time that week. Ichiji knelt to sift through a few of the titles.

“It is a proper form of address,” you offered. Ichiji remained quiet as he moved the books around. He didn’t have to say anything for you to understand that he was not satisfied with your answer. “And it is what Master Y— Prince Yonji prefers.”

Many of Germa’s soldiers trained closely with the three princes, and with their enhanced capabilities and battle-tailored minds, combatant citizens learned much from the royal family. And with most of the kingdom’s population consisting of soldiers, the title “Master” became the most common form of address when speaking of or to any of the Vinsmoke children.

“I see.” Ichiji rose, letting the container lid slam closed with a bang. The noise pulled an involuntary jerk from your shoulders. Ichiji stood perfectly still. You couldn’t see the way his eyes carefully scanned the room. Ichiji pivoted on his heel, making for the set of stairs on the left-hand side of the chamber.

You trailed behind him, unsure if he was expecting you to follow. Whether he wanted you to or not, Ichiji didn’t speak a word as he made his way up the velvet-carpeted steps.

He took his time analyzing the shelves. Unlike Yonji, who appeared to enjoy touching any text that remotely stuck out to him, Ichiji clasped his hands behind his back to peruse the balcony with an eerie quietness. His face never changed from its usual, neutral frown as he slowly made his way around the room, stopping frequently as he scrutinized the spaces between books.

Yonji was expressive by comparison, although this wasn’t to say much, considering that he wore his reactions on his sleeve more often than not. But even despite Yonji’s frequent brow jumps, lip dips, and nose scrunching, it wasn’t much of an observation to say that anyone was more expressive than Ichiji.

He walked around the balcony, to the opposite end and down the right-hand set of stairs. Ichiji’s gait was firm and poised, and he held himself in such a way that somehow commanded authority over the room without him even having to speak a word. And yet, you could hardly hear his steps as he seemed to glide across the carpet.

You lingered as Ichiji finally reached the bottom level again, placing him near your typical reading chair. You trailed tentatively behind with eyes averted to the door, posture upright, and ready to serve however Ichiji saw fit. You were, after all, still the library attendant for the whole Germa Kingdom.

You hardly noticed how Ichiji lingered by the window.

“Did my brother request this?”

You had looked away from him for a second, and in the next moment, Ichiji had the book of fairy tales from all four blues clutched in his hand. He held it with the spine facing him as he continued to frown.

“No, Prince Yonji did not.”

“A bit too old to be reading children’s books, aren’t we?” Ichiji pivoted a foot to face you. The light from the window behind him shrouded Ichiji in a blinding glow. It wasn’t golden or perfectly framed, but an overwhelming convergence of sunbeams that threw off the saturation of his face. “I’m talking to you, book roach.”

“Yes, Master Ichiji. I agree.” You dared not mention the children.

The sun only became more blinding as Ichiji walked toward you, letting the white light drip over his shoulder and into your eyes. For a moment, the sunbeams hit the back of Ichiji’s sunglasses just right, allowing you to see through the opaque lenses and straight into his piercing gaze.

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing you by both cheeks in an iron vice-grip. The webbing between his index finger and thumb sat just under your nose. Ichiji’s motion didn’t accommodate your height as he almost seemed to lift you, causing your knees to buckle. Your hands instinctively shot to his wrist.

Ichiji pulled you in close while you squirmed in his grasp. You could feel his steady breaths against your cheek as he tilted his head to the side as a wild animal would when stalking prey.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your body to release his arm. You knew the longer you touched him, the more whatever he was going to do next would hurt. But every adrenaline-fueled fiber of your being was held mercilessly at the will of your racing chest. Only the tips of your shoes touched the floor.

“I didn’t understand, and I can’t say I do now.” Ichiji’s attention moved from your face to the trembling fingers that creased the fabric of his sleeve. He found your movements thoughtless, caught somewhere between fighting him and being too fearful to. The very sight made him scowl. He would have preferred if you fought. “I can see the novelty in a soft, fragile thing like you. Still, I struggle to see what's truly captivating beyond that.”

He released you, letting you crumple to the floor at his feet.

“Dispose of this.” Ichiji dropped the book of fairy tales on your head as he brushed past you, leaving a surprisingly forceful breeze in his wake with his fast pace. “Germa doesn’t need this in the library.”

With a few long strides to the doors, Ichiji was gone.

***

The fleet was supposed to sail into the storm overnight. The water was beginning to grow the slightest bit choppy by the time evening rolled around, but the bobbing of the ships was bearable. And with your responsibilities on your snail finished, your evening free, and the central kitchen nearby, you decided to visit Cosette.

It was probably for the best, considering that most of the domestic staff was holed up below deck, trying to fight the cold that was making the rounds on your ship. The twins were hit extra hard, and between making remedial foods for everyone else, the cook had his hands full with the children.

The central kitchen was sending out dessert by the time you arrived. You side-stepped a servant bringing out some sort of ice cream dish before making your way inside the ever-bustling kitchen.

Cosette did a double-take as you entered, eyes flickering from her hand-whipped whipped cream before a wide grin overtook her lips. Her head tilted to the side with a raise of her brows and a pucker of her lips. Her rapid whisking didn’t cease for a second. You shrugged, making a little dance out of the playful expressions you silently made at her from across the kitchen.

“Give me just a moment,” she told you with incoherent hand motions.

Cosette moved gracefully and confidently throughout the kitchen as she placed the finishing touches on the desserts, which were rapidly being sent out the door. They passed by you, each looking even more elegant and delicious than the last.

You were content to wait out of the way as Cosette projected orders across the kitchen. Even her commands were soft despite their sternness, and everything around you seemed to move at lightning speed.

Even as service was beginning to wrap up, it was difficult to cross the room. As soon as the last plate left through the doors, clean-up began. You managed to make your way to the opposite end and slid onto a stool parallel with a line of frosted-glass windows. Just below was a wooden counter that stretched across the length of the wall. A protrusion from the counter sat in front of you with another stool on the other side.

Gentle raindrops pitter-pattered against the outside the windows as the ship bobbed gently on the waves. You leaned an elbow on the wooden surface in front of you, turning your head to gaze at how the water droplets rolled down the nearly opaque glass.

When Cosette finally joined you, she all but slammed her side into the counter, reaching across the tiny table to place a packed plate in front of you. Her haphazard movements caused the plate to spin, clattering against the hard surface below. Cosette let out a loud sigh. She had a bit of whipped cream in her hair.

“It’s been a day,” she breathed, letting her head fall back.

“I couldn’t tell,” you mused, plucking a spoon from a basket of utensils on the counter behind you. Kitchen workers passed you, continuing to scurry about with dirty plates and cooking instruments.

“It’s always busy when the kingdom sails together like this.” Cosette breathed another heavy sigh, letting her forearms and head collapse on the table. She just barely missed slamming her forehead into the plate. Cosette reached blindly across the wood surface, finding your free hand and giving it a few fatigued taps. You dug into your food. Cosette could always seem to whip something up miraculously fast. “No twins tonight?”

You shook your head.

“My whole crew is getting sick. I’ve been kinda living in the southern library.”

“When are you not?” Cosette hooked her chin over her wrist. She let out another puff of air, letting her bangs fly over her forehead. Her head rolled to the crook of her folded elbow. “You’ve been pretty busy for a few months now.”

“Not any more than usual.”

Cosette shot up, plopping her cheek in her palm as she leaned over the table. Her eyes narrowed with a round pout. Commentary mounted on your tongue, and with every unspoken thought, her bottom lip crunched into her top one. Your name left her mouth like a gentle scold.

“Not any more than you,” you corrected with a laugh. The sound seemed to melt Cosette’s playfully cross demeanor.

“No prince tonight either?” The words spilled from her with a casualness you weren’t used to. For some reason, the question made your spoon stop on your plate.

“Prince Yonji is out of the country. I think he will be for a few days.” you started, not noticing the slight, confused scrunching of Cosette’s face. Her head tilted acutely to the side, causing a few strands of her bangs to brush across her forehead. “And he doesn’t like when I disturb his evenings anyway.”

“Oh,” Cosette mused with some thought and a few nods, withdrawing her touch as she sat up straight. But even with her upright posture, her cheek found her palm again, this time with her elbow resting on the counter to her left. She looked to the side toward the frosted glass window. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

“Well, Master Yonji and Mistress Reiju returned a few hours ago. I’m back here for most of the day, so I can’t say I know this for certain, but—”

You were too focused on Cosette and your food to notice the skidding outside the kitchen doors. Being quite the sight for royalty to be meandering aimlessly around the servants’ corridors, Yonji created quite the ruckus in the halls outside in the hall.

He moved through them quickly, unsure where he was going until he caught a glimpse of you through the circular windows on the double kitchen doors. Yonji skidded to a halt, sliding an impressive distance on his heels before bursting through the doors with enough force to make them slam against the adjacent walls.

A small hoard of servants followed him, fuzzing over him and deeply concerned about what had upset him so much that he brought himself to the servants' corridors. Despite their volley of questions, Yonji ignored every probing servant as his gaze shot past every member of the stupified kitchen staff to where you sat with Cosette across the room.

His eyes were wide and round, and his lips parted as if he wanted to yell something across the halted kitchen. But the words stalled in his throat, and after a few moments of hesitant air, Yonji’s teeth reluctantly clenched.

The entirety of the servant’s halls stilled, with the staff mixed between hiding in storage closets and the braver of the group gathering near the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. After all, a member of the royal family remotely stepping foot in any servant territory was unheard of. And while Mistress Reiju appeared to be least likely to stick up her nose due to her status, even she wasn’t one to enter to step foot in the winding halls either.

All the kitchen staff immediately stopped in their tracks and bowed. Cosette jumped to her feet, racing across the floor faster than you could blink to bow deeply at the waist in front of Yonji.

“Master Yonji!” she exclaimed. “How might I be of service to Your Highness?”

Despite her swiftness, Cosette was just as nervous as the rest of the kitchen. You could see it in the way she seemed to tremble. You didn’t have to see her eyes to know they were clenched shut.

Yours were as well. You had dismounted from your stool to bow deeply along with the rest of the staff. As a civilian servant, there were no rules about which parts of the kingdom you were to remain in. You weren’t a soldier, after all, and so as long as your duties were done in the library and you weren’t ordered elsewhere, you had no post to adhere to.

Still, your thoughts weren’t far from the rest of the staff in the corridors. A member of the royal family coming to the main kitchen personally certainly meant little good. The lower you held your head, the better… at least you had thought so.

You hardly noticed as Yonji pushed past Cosette, almost knocking her to the ground as he ignored her question. It only took him a few powerful strides until he crossed the kitchen, and it wasn’t until Yonji’s shadow had dwarfed you that you knew no amount of hiding your face could get you out of this one. You just weren’t quite sure what you had done.

He stood there for a moment, wordless. You couldn’t see his face to deduce what he was thinking, although you didn’t believe you were all that good at reading Yonji’s face to begin with.

“How might I serve you, Prince Yonji?” you hummed.

He frowned above you.

“Did I ask you to speak?” he gritted. Yonji made an irritated wave in the air, already rushing you to obey a command he had yet to give. “Get up. Up.”

You stood up straight. You had expected Yonji’s usual disdainful scowl, but instead, you were greeted with one of the deepest frowns you had ever recalled seeing him wear. His eyes were narrowed as he gazed down at you. The skin of his forehead between his brows twitched. Slowly, Yonji’s lips parted to reveal tightly clenched teeth.

“Why aren’t you in the library?”

“All of my duties were completed for the night, Prince Yonji—”

“A library attendant should be in the library!” He hardly let you finish before grabbing you by the arm. Yonji shoved you toward the exit, trailing closely behind you like a herding dog.

He kept a hand splayed out in the center of your back as he corralled you forward. You practically jogged to keep up with the pace Yonji pushed you, moving quickly past Cosette and the rest of the kitchen staff.

The double doors swung open, hitting the opposite walls in the hallway of the servant’s corridors, just like when Yonji came in. Castle staff scattered, and if the gathered didn’t run to hide, they stuck to the walls to allow you and Yonji to pass.

Pity was by far the most common expression you saw as you passed. It was a look that was glanced at you for a fraction of a second, almost as if slipping it to you as consolation for what was perceived as a poor fate. You felt as if you were being patted on the shoulder for taking a penalty for the staff as a whole, for keeping the attention of one Germa prince meant lower chances for anyone else to be targeted.

But for the pity that flashed across the lowered faces you saw, a hidden disgust lurked. You were apparently the one who brought Yonji to these halls and, in turn, a potential threat to people just trying to do their jobs, as some might see it. You could see it in a few narrowed eyes, and while no one envied your position, you knew that Yonji’s firm touch on your back was more than enough to make imaginations run wild.

You walked in front of him, which was unheard of for servants to do. Despite the initial shock that dragged your feet when you were in the kitchen, the demanding pressure between your shoulder blades wasn’t as needed as Yonji seemed to think. You had no reason to run, and as Yonji veered you sharply into a dead end, it became clear that he knew little about where you were going.

“Prince Yonji?” you questioned.

“What?” he snapped, glancing at you with a snarl. His eyes searched the corridor, and his head swiveled angrily like a trapped animal. The grip on the back of your clothes grew tighter, scrunching the cloth into a ball.

“The exit is this way,” you hummed, accenting your words with a point. And for as tense and anxious as the entire hall of servants was from where they bowed behind you, you didn’t appear to have any qualms with being pulled from the kitchen. “I can show you.”

Yonji took a breath in as he released his grip. The fabric under his fingers remained partially wrinkled.

“Well, go on then,” he grumbled, “I don’t have all day.”

Yonji gestured absentmindedly down the hall, waiting for you to lead the way. You started in the right direction, with Yonji trailing after you.

***

The water was beginning to get choppy outside. The snails were starting to sway under your feet, and while Yonji had gotten his sea legs long before you ever did, the pace you walked made you think you might tumble down at any second. You hardly had the time to glimpse the greying sky above and the dark clouds in the distance. Your main goal was getting inside; the last thing you wanted was to be swept off deck by a wave.

When you arrived at the southern tower, you closed the large, double doors with great effort. The wind fought you the entire way, and despite his superior strength, Yonji offered you no aid in closing the weather doors. Instead, he already made his way into the main chamber of the library. A metal apparatus had already been closed over the windows, protecting the glass from the harsh elements outside and leaving the chamber somewhat smaller without the view.

You didn’t like the electric bulbs that glowed around the room. They weren’t consistent in color, illuminating the chamber in a light that felt sterile and yet dingy at the same time. Yonji stood in the center of the room, shadows cast on him, almost appearing disjointed and random due to the inconsistent lighting.

He turned to you when you entered. The two doors to the library were the second set you had to tussle with. While they weren’t floor-to-ceiling like the one leading into the southern tower, they were by no means short and extended to where the balcony started. With the waves becoming increasingly violent, they either needed to be tethered open or bolted shut. You tried to bolt them shut.

Yonji scanned the chamber, pouring over the rows of locked-away books. For the first time in a few weeks, the main wooden table was completely clear.

“Isn’t there something you usually do around this time?” Yonji asked. It sounded like a question he had been thinking about for several moments, but with your battle with the door, you hardly registered him speaking.

One of the doors slammed shut with the ship's rocking, nearly taking one of your fingers off as it did. You tried to hold it in place as you attempted to corral the other one. Both doors were more than twice your height and difficult to pin down with the movement of the sea below.

“All of my duties are usually done before supper, Prince Yonji.”

You managed to pull the other door closed. You held both doors by their simple handles, waiting to catch your breath before you began on the locks. They wobbled and ripped, threatening to fling you away.

“Not one of your duties,” he huffed, rummaging through one of the storm boxes somewhere behind you. He spoke with an added gruffness as if he thought you were dodging his unspoken question on purpose.

By the time you managed to lock both doors, Yonji had performed a complete search of the boxes that held the books from the table. You nearly keeled over, huffing from exhaustion as Yonji stood over you with crossed arms.

“I suppose I usually do some reading before dinner—”

“What kind of library attendant are you?” He had already moved on to another topic. Yonji did so often as his brain fired and processed at a rate much higher than the average person, leaving you to connect the dots to determine what he was talking about. “Can’t even keep your shit straight.”

“I apologize for my performance not being up to standard.” You bowed.

“Which one of ‘em came down here?”

You blinked at him; your mental scramble to piece together what he was asking you made your brain fuzzier than his actual question.

“Master Ichiji,” you answered.

“Figures,” Yonji grumbled. The ship continued to rock. You shifted your weight, making minute changes to your stance as the floor bobbed. Yonji turned to you, a hand splayed over his jaw. The knuckle of his index finger just barely touched his bottom lip. “What did he want?”

His four-word sentence was devoid of his usual bitterness for how he spoke. You would have thought Yonji’s words sounded tentative if you hadn't known better. A vein in his temple twitched as he stared off somewhere into the library chamber. The waves outside didn’t appear to affect him at all.

The memory of Ichiji flashed across your mind, and even just the vision of his cold scowl made you consider your response carefully. The truth played on your lips.

“Master Ichiji came to inspect both myself and the library. He appeared to be displeased with how much time you’ve been spending here,” you considered saying but ultimately decided that perhaps such terms sounded charged. While you believed you knew Yonji decently well, you weren’t confident in making any assumptions about his relationships with his brothers. You hardly wanted to open yourself up to scrutinization or mistakenly place yourself in a position higher than you were.

You also knew better than to hide things from Yonji.

“I believe that Master Ichiji came to review both the library and my performance,” you offered. It was technically accurate. After all, you weren’t exactly sure why Ichiji had come to begin with.

“A what? I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Yonji spat rudely, wearing his confusion on the scrunched-up expression he wore. “What was it? Orderd by our dad or something?”

“Master Ichiji did not mention anything concerning Lord Judge,” you said. Yonji let out a great huff.

“Pretentious dickwad,” you heard him mutter before he turned to face you. His arms had coiled over his chest once again. “What did he do?” You almost blinked at the question.

“Little more than a simple walkthrough,” you answered, glancing off toward the floor. You didn’t think mentioning Ichiji’s apparent disdain toward you was worth mentioning. It came with too many assumptions, and that was assuming Yonji cared about those things at all. “Master Ichiji didn’t say much about it.” Yonji frowned.

“A bit simple for a formal review.” The vein in his forehead twitched again. You couldn’t help but wonder why Yonji was so fixated on his brother’s visit. While underutilized, the royal library was intended as a resource for the royal family. “If he asked you to reorganize everything in reverse alphabetical order and then put it back into alphabetical order, let me tell ya that you can ignore that under my orders.”

Your breath almost stalled in your throat. Was that something they had wanted you to do?

“Master Ichiji only requested that a single book be removed from the library.” Your statement flooded the room, filling the space in the chamber from the floor to the high ceiling. Yonji paused. His eyes darted from your reading chair and back to you.

“And did you?” He glanced at you, meeting your eye in a second with narrowed ones of his own.

“Of course, Prince Yonji.” You nodded, but your affirmation did nothing in the face of Yonji’s deep scowl.

You stood, frozen in one place, as Yonji stalked toward you. The ship continued to waver on the waves, making it difficult to keep your balance and focus. But as he grew closer, Yonji’s vexed grimace started to slowly morph into a sinister smile. His eyes widened slightly, as did yours.

“If it were between my word and my brother’s word, who would you listen to?” he asked slowly. Yonji shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, taking a step just an inch too close before stopping. He tilted his head to the side. “Me? Or Ichiji?”

The doors to the chamber rattled just a step behind you. Yonji had cornered you with a calculated amount of space to spare, an illusion of escape even if you wanted to. Like all the pointed questions he asked, you knew Yonji had a correct answer in mind. Although there was right in the eyes of Germa, there was right in the eyes of Yonji.

“Prince Yonji, you know my loyalty lies with the Germa kingdom. I would never refuse a member of the royal family.” Yonji’s nose scrunched into a familiar snarl that melted into the corner of his lip. He was giving you an opportunity to remedy your answer. “Your Highness has spent much time here and knows this library intimately. I would readily trust your discretion, Prince Yonji.”

Yonji let out a single chuckle which bounced his chest with tentative amusement. He stared at you, judging you incredulously.

“If I gave you an order, and Ichiji told you the opposite, you would obey me.” It was a question as much as it was a boast, like a child confirming superiority over the playground. Yonji leaned down to further lord his smug expression over you. “You’d sideline the eldest Vinsmoke prince just like that. Careful, that sounds a little treasonous to me.”

He liked to lead, asking pointed questions to drag you through carefully set-up hoops until you found yourself stuck. It took time to separate him from the game and an even greater effort to remind yourself that, for his words, Yonji was greatly pleased. He was pleased for the same reason he preferred you call him Prince Yonji.

“I have served as your personal aid for quite some time, and out of everyone in the royal family, you have spent the most time here by far. I would argue that myself and this place are at your disposal.”

“Ha! Shut up. You’re so annoying.” Yonji muscled you out of the way and made short work of the door latches you spent so long to secure. “If Ichiji— if any of my siblings— come sniffing around here and have problems, you send ‘em to me. I don’t care what any of them have to say.” Yonji turned to you as the doors flew open, nearly knocking you off your feet. His gaze was acutely darkened, and his grin was wolffish. “As far as I’m concerned, this place is mine.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Yes! We are back baybeeeee! I think it's awesome that this series has somewhat of a following. Thank you all. i actually already have chapter 5 written, but as a rule of thumb I only update series when the previous chapter (so this chapter) has about 100 combined likes and reblogs. So I suppose I'll see you all later.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

#yonji x reader #yonji vinsmoke x reader #vinsmoke yonji x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #yonji #yonji vinsoke #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #x reader #x you #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece reader insert #germa 66 #germa 66 fanfic

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my1interspatial2corner · 18 days ago

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ִֶָ.𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ Chilly day ་༘࿐

⋆｡ Tags: Harry James Potter x you/reader, gn!reader, sfw, fluff, unestablished relationship, harry is a cutie patootie ⋆｡ Sypnosis: Harry takes notice just how cold you were feeling and decided to take it upon himself ⋆｡ Notes: Why is Harry so unpopular at his own damn movie?? Anyway for my Harry James Potter fans if they're even out here at this day and age

The view was painted white with snow, it was winter yet again at Hogwarts, and the temperatures had reached such an all time low that instead of rain, snow came pouring from the clouds. Hogwarts, for all it's magical artifacts and spells, got quite cold during this season, making people born in the muggle world wish they had a heating system around here.

“My god, is it chilly in here” You complained to no one in particular, hugging yourself for warmth. You were huddled in layers, making you feel like one of the snowmen the first years have been building, and yet, it still wasn’t enough to make you feel anything close to warmth if you weren’t draped with a blanket and standing besides a fireplace.

“You’re still cold?” Harry asked, acting like he himself wasn’t covered layer by layers, wearing thermal wear and a thick coat “You need to get burnt alive in order not to feel cold, apparently”

You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic comment, shoving him to the side. The two of you were walking through the corridors of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermonie not present at the moment “Shut up, you’ll see who gets burnt alive, Harry”

Harry rolled his eyes right back at you, a grin on his face. If he was like Hermione- who had thousands of books and spells memorized, he would’ve given you a spell to keep warm, if that even existed. But he wasn’t, and so he grabbed your hands, but he almost jolted away from you.

“Your hands are like ice!” Harry exclaimed, surprised by the sheer stark contrast between his hands and yours “No wonder you’re so cold, your body temperature is so low!”

“Oh, now you’re concerned?” You retorted, huffing but not turning his touch away. His hands were warm, and it was comforting compared to the chilling temperatures at the castle.

“I was concerned before, I just didn’t know it was that bad” Harry replied gently, his eyes softening, he tugged on your arm, guiding you around “Let’s go somewhere warmer”

“What about Ron and Hermonie?” You asked, classes had ended for the day but the four of you intended to go outside together.

“I’m sure they can wait a little bit. Ron is quite tardy sometimes” Harry replied, eventually stopping at one of the emptier spots with a fireplace.

“Yeah that’s true” You mused out loud. Ron was quite stubborn, and if he wanted to finish something he would do so first, making you, Hermonie and Harry wait for him. Harry guided you so you would sit at the small sofa sitting in front of the fireplace, joining you on your seat. He cupped your chilly hands, bringing them close to his mouth and letting out a breath, rubbing them together to warm them up. The sight made you giggle, which made him smile but his confusion was evident in his gaze “What? Did I do something funny?”

“You’re like a fly!” You exclaimed, which just confused Harry further, his face puzzled

“What?” He asked, blinking rapidly. Of all things? He couldn’t say he was fond of the idea of being compared to a fly.

“You know, when they rub their little insect legs together?” You asked, making Harry make a noise of understanding, nodding and laughing with you.

“Seriously? You’re so weird sometimes” Harry said fondly, looking at you tenderly, the two of you going quiet for a moment, soaking in the closeness.

“But you like me weird, right?” You asked after a beat, getting closer to him for warmth.

“Yeah, I guess I do” He whispered, closing his eyes and leaning towards you

Meanwhile…

“Geez it’s quite cold in here, how long are they gonna take?” Ron asked to Hermonie, who shrugged.

“Maybe a teacher needed them?” Hermonie suggested, looking unaffected by the cold.

“How aren’t you cold?” Ron asked, pulling his jacket closer to his body.

“I used a spell!” Hermonie replied “Want me to use it on you?”

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backtothefanfiction · 9 months ago

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Brown Eyes | A Mandalorian Imagine

Summary- Turns out, there’s so much more at stake than just life or death if you get injured

Length- short

Warnings- mostly fluff, mentions of injury

A/N- this just popped into my head so I of course had to write it out for you guys before I can sleep.

You’ve been lucky. Real lucky. All this time spent travelling with him and the kid and you haven’t gotten injured once. Which is even more lucky when you think about what your travelling companion does for a living. Or at least that’s what you think to yourself as you now sit hold up in the hull of the ship, your hand holding tightly to the blaster wound at your side.

It was your own fault really. He had told you multiple times to not do wander off or let the kid roam around outside the ship when he was on missions like this- but did you listen… No of course not. It’s not like anything had happened the last 15 times you had let him stretch his legs and get some fresh air and Din had been none the wiser.

He had also told you before that people were looking for him and the kid, which was another reason to lie low, but you didn’t think the situation was a shoot on sight kind of deal. You had both just been enjoying the meadow Din had landed in and the nearby tree line when the first shot had burned its way through the side of a tree. Then came another- and another. You felt one of the blasts burn across your side, but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t acknowledge it. You just had to get out of there.

You had tried to shoot back, scooping the kid up in your arms and running for your life back to the razor crest. The moment you were through the doors you had closed the hatch and placed the kid safely in his cradle, closing the top for extra protection as blaster fire began to hit the side of the ship.

You had frantically began to press buttons to get it up in the air and away from them. As you just about cleared the tree line, the crest half protesting from your hasty take off, another beep, the beep of the coms, sent a new wave of adrenaline through your body.

“What’s happening? Why have-“

You don’t let him finish asking his questions. “They found us. They found the kid.” You quickly informed him. Although you were trying to block it out, you knew from the strained way you were talking he’d know you’d been hurt.

“Is he safe? Is the kid safe? Are you both safe?” He quickly asked through the com link.

“Yes.” You said quickly back, if not a bit breathily, as you fought to steady the ship in the air and move it away from the meadow and the wooded area, instead heading towards a mountain ridge, hoping it would provide some cover.

“I’m sending co-ordinates,” he said- and you could hear the beeping of him typing in the location to send to the crest through the com, “meet me there.”

“Okay.” You said, gritting your teeth against the pain in your side.

The adrenaline coursing through your body had been just enough to see you to the rendezvous point, a large cavern on the far side of the mountains. You just had enough focus to land the crest inside, shutting the engines back down, before climbing back down into the hull to check on the baby. When you opened the cradle, you weren’t surprised at all to find him sleeping in it, the stress of the situation exhausting him. Knowing he was safe though filled you with relief.

Finally safe, knowing Din was on his way, allowed you to finally relax. The only problem was, without the adrenaline coursing through you, you were becoming more and more aware of the pain in your side. You lifted your hand to cradle it protectively as you hobbled to a bench along the outer wall and sat yourself down.

You sneered as you took it in, all blood and charred skin. It made you light headed. And that’s where you were now, eyes closed, head tilted back, resting against the wall. Deep breathing your way through the pain trying to think of anything else to pass the time while you waited for Din to return. He’d know how to deal with this.

You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were being jostled awake, a frantic voice calling your name between curses. It felt like a fight to open your eyes. They were so dry and heavy.

“Come on baby, I need you to wake up. Stay with me now.”

You felt him prod at your side and you let out a small groan as your head lulled heavily to one side. You just wanted to go back to sleep. It didn’t hurt when you were asleep.

“Fuck.” He groaned, his voice ragged and desperate.

As you continued to fight to get your eyes open, your body seemingly working completely separately to your brain right now, you heard his heavy feet begin to charge around the small space searching for what- you did not know with your eyes closed.

You felt him return to you, his hand resting on your thigh and you assumed he was resting on his knees before you. Knowing this was something you definitely had to see to believe, you finally fought to open your eyes. But it was difficult, they kept trying to close again, your head rolling from side to side as you fought to stay conscious, fought to look at him on his knees before you.

You knew his fingers were fumbling with something and you sneered as his fingers jabbed at the wound again.

“Uuuhhh owwwww.” You complained.

“Fuck.” He said again. “I can’t fucking see shit.” He complained.

Your eyes grew heavy again and you more sensed him lean away from you than saw him, but the sudden hiss of compressed air coming from his helmet had them seemingly fly open and you watched him lift the helmet from his head.

“Din-“ you groaned, but he didn’t respond. You watched him as he reached again for the med pack, getting out a pair of scissors and cutting away at the fabric of your top around the wound. He then grabbed a bottle of clear liquid, wetting a pad with it, which he then wiped carefully around the wound. Your eyes squeezed tight and you hissed in pain.

“Hold still now baby, hold still, I’m nearly done.” He says. Your only thought though is when did he start calling you baby?

There’s a reprieve as his hands move away again and your breathing starts to come back into your control. There’s a rustling sound of a packet and you open your eyes again to watch through blurry eyes as he removed a bacta patch from its packaging. You close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall again as he carefully lines it up, before sticking it down over the top of the wound.

You must have fallen asleep again, because when you wake next, you’re lying down on a cot with bandages wrapped around your middle. As you shift, the blanket placed over you shifts, exposing your skin to the cold air. You surmise you are back in hyperspace.

You pull yourself from the bed groggily. Your side still feels tender but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was, the bacta patch clearly doing its job. You slowly begin to follow the sounds of the kid’s babbling up to the cockpit where he is sat resting on Din’s knee. He quickly goes quiet when he sees you.

Din turns himself in his chair to check what he already knows. He’s relieved to see how much better you’re looking already. There’s more colour to you skin and the fact you are moving around speaks volumes to your alertness and body’s responsiveness.

But when you lock eyes on him your brain can only think of one thing. “You took it off.” You say, your eyes blinking at the vague memory as you take in his once again helmeted form in front of you.

“Yes.” He says as if it is merely just a matter of fact.

“You have brown eyes.”

“Yes.” He says again bluntly, clearly not wanting to give these facts more attention than they need.

You frown. “You called me baby.”

He’s silent then. There’s a long pause between you both as he turns himself away from you. “You scared me.” He says as firmly as he can. “Don’t do that again.” He says more strongly, but it just makes you smile.

For the first time since you boarded his ship, it’s clear to you he is able to care for someone other than the kid. “I won’t tell any one.” You reassure him.

He’s quiet for a moment- and you worry he’s not going to say anything at all- when he finally says, “Good.”

A few seconds later you’re dropping out of hyperspace and it’s like the whole ordeal never happened in the first place.

#the mandolorian #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #mandalorian imagine #pedro character imagines #pedro characters #Star Wars #reader insert fanfiction

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 months ago

Text

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Summary: When the bat babies experience nightmares, Azriel coaxes you back to bed with reassurance that he and your other two mates will take care of it. Who better to protect them from monsters under the bed than their powerful fathers?

inspired by the song stolas sings to his daughter in helluva boss

Azriel jolts awake.

Something wasn’t right. His shadows located in the nursery ward sends tremors of agitation.

First things first, he checks to make sure that you were still asleep beside him. There was so much room when Rhysand and Cassian weren't laying in it too. They were up late finishing documents, Azriel taking it upon himself to cuddle up to you for bed. Your day had been full. You had meetings of your own to attend to and councils to hear out. That was a pro to having three mates, there were plenty of babysitters to keep an eye out for your rambunctious triplets.

They were at that sweet age where they were experimenting with their powers and the extent their wings could take them. Lacking wings yourself, you found it tricky to catch them when they misbehave. They could simply fly off, deaf to your half-hearted threats.

Confirming you're still sound asleep, Azriel leaps from the bed and hastily rushes out of the master bedroom. Nearly bumping into Rhysand and Cassian who'd left Rhysand's office in a similar hurry.

Wasting no time, they cleared the quick trek to the nursery wing of the house and throw the door open.

Two beds were empty. Their occupants were huddled together in the middle bed. Dagen, Rian and Baila cling to one another, small little sobs echoing in the dark. It broke their hearts.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Cassian takes the initiative to enter the room and kneel beside their bed. Soothingly rubbing Dagen's back, the little boy releases Rian and instead buries himself in Cassian's expansive chest. The General nearly breaks down himself. Tufts of signature shadows remind Cassian of fuzzy black lint as he brushes his callused fingers past them to envelope Dagen.

"Papa-" Dagen sniffs.

"The room is clear." Azriel murmurs to Rhysand. When that potential threat is cleared, they rush to the other two kids who scramble to jump into their arms.

Baila, face covered in tears and snot, wipes her face on Rhysand's shirt. He didn't care. If it made his sweet girl tell him what happened then so be it.

Through a congested nose, Rian lifts his head from Azriel's shoulder to whimper "It happened again. We all had the same bad dream."

Oh.

The Bat Boys exchange worrisome glances. They'd hoped it was a one time thing. Their first joint bad dream happened five years ago when they were three. It was happening more often now the older they got. Madja didn't possess any helpful information.

"And it was the same one from last time?" Azriel brushes Rian's bangs out of his face. Rian nods and lets Az clean his face with the hem of his night shirt.

Cassian and Azriel avoid Rhysand's gaze this time. The dream was always the same. The triplets couldn't find Rhysand. They search far and wide through Prythian but its like Rhysand vanished into air. Only ever Rhysand was the subject of this dream.

Pressing her small hand against Rhysand's chest, the little girl is relieved when she feels his heart thump back against her palm. Her daddy was still here. It was just a dream and couldn't harm her. Her daddy was there and she would never let him out of her sight again.

Rhysand kisses the crown of her head.

I'm right here, starlight.

She nods and relaxes in his arms.

The fatherly trio spend some time talking to them. They were still reluctant to go back to bed.

"Put your shoes and jackets on." Rhys sets Baila down. "I've got something to show you now that you're old enough to fly some distance."

That perks them up. Happily they obey Rhysand and follow the three males outside of the townhouse. Night still hung in the sky. Multitudes of stars twinkle back down, glittering against the dark.

Dagen and Baila unfurl their leathery wings, enjoying the air that kisses the delicate membrane that separated the 'fingers' of their wings. Rian, taking after Rhysand, conjures his wings with ease to match his siblings and fathers.

"Stay close to us, alright?" Cassian instructs, taking on his general persona. This act caused them to giggle a little bit, knowing how unserious Cassian was a majority of the time.

Azriel reminds them "And if you get tired, let us know. We can't having you falling out of the sky."

"Your mother would kill us." Rhysand jokes (though if he ever did happen to let one of your children die under his watch, you most certainly would end him).

Six pairs of wings take off into the sky. Strong and self-assured.

Baila is mesmerized of Velaris' aerial view. Her fingers traced over the lines of rivers and peaks of buildings. Velaris' inhabitants liked to call her the Princess of Stars.

Dagen and Rian dart around each other in a playful chase, uncaring of the destination.

After a while, the six of them find a place to perch and rest. Each triplet finds a comfortable spot to catch their breath on the lap of their fathers. Baila cuddles up with Azriel, who gently places a kiss on the crown of her dark head. "Are your wings tired, princess?"

"A little." Her small mouth opens into an 'o' shape as Baila releases a yawn.

"Papa," Dagen tugs on Rhysand's shirt. The fluffy whisps of dark shadows that cling to his wings tickle the underside of Rhys' chin. "Why do we always have those scary dreams about you?"

Simpering behind Cassian's chest, Rian nods in agreement. "I don't like them."

Rhysand purses his lips. He didn't have the heart to tell his children that those dreams were perhaps premonitions of what would happen to the high lord in the future. It may not be true, but the nature and frequency of the dreams plaguing his children couldn't be ignored. Glancing at his brothers for help, Cassian offers him a sympathetic shrug.

His silence is enough to scare Rian as the young fae stares at his father. "If we keep having them. . . will they come true?"

"You mustn't think those things," Azriel whispers, finding himself the only one of the three males who could respond. "They are just dreams." His words felt dead and heavy on his tongue, though. He shared the same sentiment with Rhysand. None of this was a coincidence.

Rhysand holds Dagen closer to himself in a protective grip and lets out a low hum that settles down his children. "When you're scared and you don't know where I am, you must remember, no matter what happens to me, I will never be far away from my special little starlings. The three of you will always be protected. Papa Cass, Papa Az, Mama, and so many others will lay their life on the line to ensure your safety."

"Always." Cassian murmurs, his lips pressing to the back of Rian's head.

The stars above heard this promise and took it as a vow. For it would be put to the test in the very near future.

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exoticb-utters · 5 months ago

Note

do you have any relationship headcanons for morph?💕

Of course I have some headcannons for our favorite (fruity) drama king!!

Morph Head Cannons-

Love languages are definitely acts of service and words of affirmation. I don’t think they’d be a super touchy person but if you wanted to then they’d be down; you are always the main priority.

Expect smart and flirty comments from Morph 100% of the time. Not a beat passes without a smart ass comment leaving their mouth. Also expect stupid pick-up lines, “Jesus turned water into wine, He can also turn you into mine ;)” maybe even Morph CLEARLY fake falling in front of you just to point finger guns at you with a “sorry, I just fell for you.” God what a cornball.

Get the strap. I will not be elaborating.

Never forgets important dates. Whether they have it saved somewhere or just remembers everything you don’t know. But Morph always shows up and shows out for anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, you name it. Anything you’re comfortable with they will make sure to prepare and execute to the TEAAAA.

Gets very frequent nightmares about Mr. sinister and his sickening experiments that were performed on Morph. They never quite got over it but you’re always there for them. Whether it be in the middle of the night or broad day light, you made sure you were Morph’s shoulder to lean on. They admire you for this, you’re willingness to help anyone you can- especially Morph. They fall deeper and deeper in love with you everyday.

Morph’s favorite attributes of you would be your humor and heart of gold. While your amazing looks were the cherry on top, your personality itself was the whole cake.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, let me know if there’s anything else you guys would like to see 💝

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somedaylazysomeday · 11 months ago

Text

Shared

You catch Silco's eye at The Last Drop, but he isn't the only one interested in you.

Silco x fem!reader x Sevika

Rating: Explicit. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Clubs, predator/prey vibes, sex, interrupted sex, minor voyeurism, threesomes, anal fingering, double penetration, anal sex, sex toy use.

Masterlist

---

You were on a bed, sandwiched between two warm bodies. You were trying to stay afloat in the wash of touches, your body stretching in ways it never had before. With the all-encompassing sensations, you were struggling to remember exactly how you had gotten to this point.

You hadn’t been drugged or anything. That much needed to be said, especially somewhere like The Last Drop. But no, the fuzziness of the evening had started from the first time you had caught the Shimmer-glowing eye of Silco himself, and you were drunk on everything that had happened since.

Catching Silco’s attention wasn’t something you had set out to do. Just the thought would have made you dizzy with nervousness and intimidation. Those weren’t emotions you had very often. Growing up in the deepest shadows cast by Piltover had left you with the distinct impression that there was no further you could sink.

And there were always predators in the deep.

When you had first noticed that mismatched gaze fixed on you, you had put on your best blank expression. Every Undercity resident worth their air knew that Silco wasn’t someone to fuck with. And if he had decided that he didn’t like the look of you, it would be better to leave The Last Drop before he had a chance to kick you out personally.

Admittedly, he would be more likely to send his second-in-command, Sevika, to get rid of you. That didn’t make it any more pleasant, though she was easily as attractive as he was - just with a different sort of danger.

In any case, you lost sight of him after that, though you couldn’t help but scan the crowds regularly for a sight of that glowing eye. Every time you didn’t see it, you relaxed a little more, though you couldn’t help recognizing that there was a part of yourself that rode a wave of disappointment.

Silco was known for being dangerous, but he was also undeniably handsome. That trim body and sharp fashion sense were paired with the keenest wit the Undercity had seen in decades, and he used it to his best advantage. Silco could take apart his enemies with a few well-placed words and a single command to his army of followers.

And he fucked.

Very few people could claim the distinction of having been with the Eye of Zaun, but everyone seemed to have a story about the time their friend’s older sibling’s cousin had spent a few glorious hours in the chem-baron’s company.

You would be willing to dismiss those stories as urban legends, a simple desire to make Silco’s power personal by having it exercised over you directly, but the stories all shared a few too many details. Firstly, they almost always started with someone catching Silco’s eye in The Last Drop.

Second, he was always very much in charge. It wasn’t something you would struggle to believe. If Silco was going to hook up with a stranger, it was only smart to make sure he was in control of the situation, if only to keep from being double-crossed.

Third, the person was never contacted again after their initial encounter with Silco. If they met him somewhere else, he was cool and indifferent toward them. It was clear that he was interested in short-term pleasure, not long-term commitment.

There were a few other factors that featured in most stories, but they weren’t entirely consistent and you didn’t count them. For instance, a lot of stories had Sevika involved, but not all of them. Some listed favorite positions or toys that were used, but those reports were so varied as to be pointless.

Overall, you considered the stories a fascinating look at how folklore supported shadowy figures in the Undercity. It was an interesting way to pass your time, even if it felt a bit voyeuristic. But you were simply interested in a major Undercity player, and found the pursuit of trends in stories a good indicator of that. You were watching solely as an academic exercise, not from any personal interest.

That was why you had regularly chosen to drink at the Drop for the past few months. The only reason.

Still, despite the stories - nay, Silco’s sexual exploits had reached the level of legend - you hadn’t expected to actually make eye contact with Silco himself. Even then, your tipsy-but-watchful demeanor hadn’t been enough to see him a second time.

Perhaps it had been a fluke. You weren’t stupid enough to think it had been anyone other than Silco, but you were also willing to concede that he probably observed the goings-on of The Last Drop. It wasn’t impossible that he had been watching the crowd at the same moment that you had been looking around. Still, there was something about the way his gaze had slowly slid away from yours that made you think he had been watching you for a while.

And you had to consider the tingling feeling of being watched, dancing invisible fingertips between your shoulder blades.

But you hadn’t seen Silco again. Not until you had gone to the bar. The bartender had slid you a drink before you had even ordered, directing you to a hallway that led from one side of the room. There, you found a staircase, and the door at the top had been unlocked…

When you opened the door and stepped into the darkened room beyond, Silco had been inside. You couldn’t claim to be completely surprised - who else would have a bedroom in The Last Drop?

You also weren’t stupid enough to believe that the room was actually where Silco slept. No, the bed was ridiculously big and the shelves against the walls held a variety of lascivious-looking toys. This was clearly where Silco hooked up with people from his club.

That, at least, ended up being correct. Silco had shared a drink with you, telling you bluntly that he was interested in fucking you that night. He asked if you were interested in that, too. Your immediate and resounding ‘yes’ was embarrassing, but he only gave a small smirk and told you to finish your drink while you discussed preferences and limits.

When that was settled, you found yourself on that giant mattress, flat on your back under him as he ravaged your mouth. He explored you thoroughly, taking control so casually and naturally that it only seemed to make sense.

And then he was inside of you, pushing himself deep as you arched your back and cried out for him. Your voice was loud in the room - too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was thick and hot, and you could feel him throbbing. Or maybe you were the one throbbing, your inner muscles working around him as your body tried to decide whether to pull him deeper or push him out of you entirely.

Just as you were beginning to relax around and under him, a loud bang made you jump. You couldn’t see much from under the canopy of Silco’s body, but you managed to spy that the door was now open. More importantly, someone was standing inside.

“Scoop told me to come find you- Oh.”

The voice was low and rough, so much so that it took a moment for you to realize that it was female. And there was only one person you could think of who wouldn’t be apologizing profusely by this point: Sevika.

To your mingled surprise and embarrassment, Sevika stepped around the bed until she could see you more clearly past Silco’s shielding body. Her lips curved into a sardonic smirk as her dark eyes wandered over every bit of you visible in your current position.

“Nice going, boss,” Sevika congratulated lowly. “If you didn’t wreck that pretty pussy, I was gonna do it myself.”

Your breath caught at that, the muscles of your core fluttering at the unexpected filth.

Silco rolled his hips, pressing further into you and driving a gasp from your lungs. “Mmm, she liked that. And, as it happens, I’ve already started working on ruining her.”

“Everything I’ve seen so far seems pretty tame,” Sevika said with a scoff. “I think you’re losing your touch. Maybe you should let an expert take over.”

Silco bared his teeth, holding your hips tight against his to keep himself buried deep as he rolled. When you were on top, still laying with your chest pressed to his, Silco raised his eyebrows at Sevika. “I am the expert here. If you don’t believe me, perhaps you should see for yourself.”

Sevika grinned, teeth flashing brightly in her smile. Her lightning-quick wink was the last thing you saw before she stepped out of view once more.

When you would have turned your head to keep her in view, Silco gripped your chin and held it steady to press a kiss to your lips. When he let you pull away, he murmured, “Pay attention. You’ll hurt my pride.”

The feeling of his chest rubbing against your stiffened nipples made your eagerness surge, but the sharp gasp was pulled from you by a different sensation: fingertips running upward along one side of your entrance, trailing around where Silco’s length had you spread wide around him. You couldn’t help a squirming shiver when that touch traveled up and between your cheeks.

“Sensitive little thing, isn’t she?” Sevika asked, a warm chuckle rumbling through her voice.

“If you could feel her the way I can, you would not need to ask.” Silco punctuated it with a pulse of his hips that made you gasp and cling to him.

Normally, this was not your kind of thing. You preferred to be an active partner in your sexual encounters, and the fact that most of the comments being tossed around were pointedly not directed toward you should have made you nervous. Probably would have in any other situation, if you were being honest.

But you felt exposed like this, knowing someone was watching. Someone who had plainly stated that she was also interested in your body. That, combined with the knowledge of how dangerous both of them were, kept you calm as they spoke around you rather than including you in the conversation. You felt as if you were slowly turning into a pile of flesh and nerves, able to do nothing but limply receive the pleasure you were offered.

Somehow, it was working for you.

“But you have yet to tell me,” Silco continued, giving another lazy thrust that made you squirm down onto him more firmly. “How does she look?”

“Needy. Hot. Desperate. Sexy,” Sevika said with a hum. Her attention was still between your legs as she scattered adjectives through the conversation. She played idly with you and - if you were to guess from his low growl - with Silco as well. Her fingers pulled you wider, as if testing how far your folds would spread. “The only way she’ll look better is dripping with cum, too fucked-out to move.”

You were listening intently to her, but a sound in the room made it hard to focus. It was only when they both chuckled that you realized the sound was a whine, coming from between your own parted lips.

“I can think of something else that may be better still,” Silco mused. His voice sounded teasing, but he didn’t continue. The silence felt heavy, weighed down with expectation and more than a hint of anticipation.

Silco’s hand smoothed over your temple, making you twitch with surprise. You glanced up to find him watching you. “What do you think, pet? Shall we invite Sevika to join us?”

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t want to risk trying and failing to speak, so you settled for a fervent nod. Silco’s lips curled as he glanced behind you. There was a knowing light glowing in his mismatched eyes, but they were aimed at Sevika, not you.

“Where do you want me?” Even Sevika’s low voice and brusque tone couldn’t disguise her interest. There was a stab of satisfaction in your gut - you may have been needy, but she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to seem.

"Hmm…" Silco drawled, tracing circles on your skin that made you shiver. "If we truly want to ruin her, there would seem to be an obvious choice."

His touch lifted your chin once more, pulling your touch-drunk gaze toward his. With that orange eye burning deep into your mind and soul, Silco asked, "Shall Sevika and I share you? Take you at the same time?"

You nodded again, but Silco stared harder. "And has your lovely rear ever taken anything before?"

Feeling inexplicably disappointed in yourself and your past sexual partners, you slowly shook your head.

"And would you like to try?"

Your eyes snapped back to Silco's face, core throbbing. "Yes, I would."

Silco's lips curled into a pleased and slightly predatory smile.

Behind you, Sevika barked a laugh. "She can still speak." The chill of metal fingers against the side of your face made your eyes flutter closed. "We'll fix that."

"Get harnessed," Silco ordered, and Sevika's artificial touch disappeared from you. "Use the smallest toy. I want her ruined, not destroyed."

Even as your body gave a throb, clearly of the opinion that it wouldn't mind either way, Sevika said, "I’ll get ready. You keep doing what you were doing."

Silco took her at her word. He started slow, guiding your hips up and down on his length. When you had found the right combination of movements on your part and the right amount of Silco thrusting into you from below, your pace naturally built back to where it had been before.

The sound of your panting breaths filled the room, pairing chaotically with the sounds of sex. You had almost forgotten about Sevika entirely in the sprint toward your impending orgasm. But Silco stopped you with a steady press of fingers against your hips, his attention moving to something behind you. When he gave an approving smile, you glanced back as well.

Sevika was standing behind you, baring more skin than you could remember seeing her display. Her muscular arms were on full show, leading up to broad, strong shoulders. She was wearing a black breastband, but it could hardly contain the rounded swells of her breasts and your mouth watered at the idea of seeing them without any cover at all. Her abdomen was taut, a hint of muscle definition casting shadows on the flat expanse of her stomach. There was a suggestion of a rounded lower belly that made you itch to touch Sevika’s dusky skin, but that bit of softness was covered by a pair of black, form-fitting boxers.

When your eyes finally fell between Sevika’s legs, you could see that the boxers doubled as a harness. The toy held in place by the boxers was also black, and you struggled to pick out its edges against the darkness of the background. Sevika helped you - perhaps inadvertently - as she worked the short shaft, coating it with shining lube.

You watched her fist the toy, laying a thick coat of slippery gel over the surface. Your mouth was dry, but you did your best to pretend that you weren’t utterly entranced by the sight.

Silco gave a rumbling laugh, and it buzzed pleasantly through you. “Like what you see, pet? Do you think you can take her?”

Sevika smirked at you, hand spreading open between the toy and the boxers so you could see it more clearly. It was… smaller than expected.

“That’s it?” you asked, cringing at yourself a moment later.

Sevika laughed out loud. “For your first time? It’s plenty, trust me. Anything bigger and we really would destroy you.”

You smiled back, but Silco was already moving on. “Sevika is going to prepare you. I want your eyes on me.”

When you turned back to face the man beneath you, Silco nodded slowly. “One moment.”

Silco’s hands were firm around your hips. He used the leverage of them to spear himself as far into you as he could get, pressing deep and deeper until there wasn’t a fraction of space between your pelvis and his. Your mouth had fallen open somewhere along the line as you dealt with the flood of sensations, but he wasn’t done.

His palms slid up either side of your spine, pulling you forward until you were lying flat against him again, your breasts crushed to his chest and his length shifting oddly inside of you. You weren’t sure what look you were wearing when you stared down at him from inches away, but the pupil of Silco’s green eye was blown wide and you thought you would drown in the darkness of it.

Sevika’s touch made you jump just a bit, but it was enough to pull you free of the trap in Silco’s gaze. She must have been touching you with her metal arm, since her hand was cool and firm against you. She found the place where your spine met your ass, the spot where the sway of your spine rose past your tailbone and into the swell of your hips.

When her hand was on that anchoring spot, Sevika pressed down. It wasn’t painful, even with the unyielding metal of her replacement arm. However, it did lock you in place against Silco, holding you steady even when you tried to squirm at the feeling of him inside of you.

The feeling of warm, slippery fingers came a moment later - hardly a surprise, even as a gasp fought to escape you. That touch traveled closer and closer to the center of your ass, working its way toward that secret place hidden between your lower cheeks.

She quickly found your rear entrance and pressed a finger against it. You made an inhuman sound at the firm touch even as you fought to wiggle your hips closer. When her hand on you and Silco’s anchoring grip made that impossible, you settled for arching your back to give her better access.

Sevika laughed, and the sound warmed your face. “Responsive. I like her already.”

“Just wait,” Silco told her lazily. “She’s the best I’ve had in some time. Not overly chatty, either.”

“Just the way you like ‘em,” Sevika remarked. Her fingers playing against the small of your back made you shudder - or perhaps that was the way her other hand was poised and ready to breach you. When Sevika spoke again, her voice was closer to you, as if she had leaned in. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some sounds outta you either way.”

Somehow, you managed a halfway sexy laugh. "Promises, promises."

A firm slap to your ass took your breath away. It was a good spank, but it also forced you further into Silco's cock and ground your clit against his pelvis.

"Sevika," Silco's voice lashed lowly through the room. "Enough teasing."

As if to prove his own point, Silco used his grip on your hips to pull you up off of him and slam you back down. The suddenness of it made it all the more intense, and you started riding him without any further prompting.

"We'll start you off slowly," Silco said, offering a nod past you.

A cool drop of liquid landed just above the crack of your ass, sliding slowly downward. The first drop was followed by another and another, until the slippery gel had started working its way down to your heated core.

Searching fingers slipped between your cheeks and you tensed reflexively. Sevika's voice was low and close as she said, "Relax."

That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not with her touching what she was getting ready to, but you made an effort anyway. The tension drained slowly from your muscles, and you were so focused that you hadn't noticed the way Silco had stopped moving again.

His hands traveled upward to splay across your back once more, holding you steady as one of Sevika's fingers found your rear entrance and began to press against it.

Your vision seemed to dim. Not from the sensation itself - though that was certainly a source of interest - but because you were concentrating so hard on the way it felt that you weren’t fully using your eyes anymore. Beyond a vague recognition that Silco was watching you closely, all of your focus was on something you couldn’t see.

With the lube that was coating you, Sevika’s finger provided almost no friction. If not for the press of her knuckles against the softness of your cheeks, you would hardly know what she was doing. Her finger was equally slick (you suspected it had been coated with a fresh sheen of lubrication), but far more noticeable with the way it pressed against you.

Your entrance braced against the intrusion, fighting to keep it out. As the pressure increased against you, you drew tighter and tighter. Silco made a surprised noise at the way your inner muscles squeezed around him. It was quiet, but just enough to distract you. You relaxed as you glanced at Silco, and that was all it took for Sevika’s finger to breach you.

Naturally, you tensed. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Not uncomfortable, but different in a way that stole your focus. That ring of muscle seemed to stretch impossibly wide around the invader, and that feeling only grew as more and more of her finger sank into you.

“You’re a fool not to take her ass yourself,” Sevika informed Silco. “She’s gonna be perfect.”

“Perhaps I consider the privilege a reward for your excellent work,” Silco countered. “Besides, she is strangling my cock now. I think this will prove pleasurable for both of us. And even more so for our lovely guest.”

Sevika hummed in agreement, the fingers of her free hand dancing over the small of your back. “If she can walk after this, we haven’t done enough.”

With a twisting motion, Sevika curled her finger all the way into you, stopping only when her knuckles were pressing against the cheeks of your ass. The noise you made was short and sharp, an audible expression of your pleasure.

“Are her eyes crossing yet?” Sevika asked.

Silco caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, carefully turning your face from side to side. “I do not believe so, but we have plenty of time. Sevika will keep her finger in you, pet, while we resume our activities. I want you used to taking something in two places at once before we start in earnest.”

It wasn’t a question - no part of it had been, but you nodded anyway. Silco grabbed your hips again, guiding you in a new rhythm. He stayed deep inside of you, his tip never quite leaving your core even as he thrust. You picked up the pattern and started to follow it eagerly. There was a different dimension to the pleasure with something in your ass.

Sevika followed your movements with her hand, keeping her finger buried in you. It spurred you on, adding spice to every thrust as you adjusted to being stretched in two places.

A warmth at your back warned that Sevika was leaning in again. “Let’s take him apart.”

Your movements stuttered when her finger started to move inside of you, but she didn’t start to fuck you with it. Instead, she curled the digit, timing each curl perfectly to catch Silco’s tip at every thrust.

Silco’s brows furrowed, a harsh curse leaving him. He picked up speed when yours faltered, holding the rhythm even when you were completely distracted by the feeling of Sevika pressing against the thin wall that separated her from Silco.

At last - and long after your brain had melted entirely - Silco seemed to have had enough. With his chipped teeth bared, he hissed, “Sevika. Take her.”

The abrupt feeling of Sevika’s finger sliding from you made you gasp. She and Silco both chuckled, though Silco’s voice sounded a little strained.

“Ready?” Sevika asked, ducking forward so you could see her without straining your neck. Her eyes seemed even darker, excitement sharpening her features. You could only nod in silent agreement.

Her hands pressed you forward against Silco’s chest once more. You felt them travel down slowly, teasing where you and the chem baron were joined. Her touch dipped briefly lower and Silco cursed again. “Focus, Sevika.”

As if enticing her to do exactly that, Silco grabbed as much of your ass as he could possibly hold, spreading your cheeks wide as your face went hot. Sevika’s hastily stifled groan eased your embarrassment, but your breathing had picked up and you were fighting not to push back toward her.

A metal hand against the base of your spine drew your attention from your own eagerness for a moment. “Keep relaxed for me,” Sevika urged.

It was an impossible thing to ask, but you did your best as she placed the tip of her toy against your ass. You felt your eyes widen as she started to push into you.

You had seen the toy. It was small, almost laughably so. But now, it felt immense against your rear entrance. As it started to spear into you, it seemed to stretch you impossibly wide. The intrusion burned slightly, even with the generous amounts of lube that coated both you and the toy, and you would have shifted away from it if Silco weren’t holding you so tightly.

Your mouth opened, ready to call things off and walk away, but there was a slight popping sensation that made you jolt. “Head’s in.”

Sevika’s explanation answered your unasked question, but you couldn’t acknowledge her verbally. The steady slide of the toy into you was smooth and inevitable, your body letting it in with minimal struggle.

The firm press of her boxer-clad hips against your ass made you jump again, but Sevika’s hands smoothed down your sides. “Doin’ good for me, pretty girl. We’re gonna stay like this for a minute.”

You nodded, agreeing to yet another thing that hadn’t truly been a question. Slowly, Silco urged you to sit upright on him. You winced at the feeling of being stretched in two places, but it wasn’t painful. Silco wasn’t a small man and it was always odd to move this way with someone inside of you. Sevika’s toy was small, but it was odd and different enough to make you double-check every sensation to see whether it was good or bad.

Sevika started things, gently massaging your breasts from behind. Her touch was gentle but insistent, bringing your body back to eagerness. Silco joined in soon afterward, focusing his attention between your legs. His nimble fingers teased your folds around where he was speared and further back, but most of his attention was fixed on your clit.

Your lips parted as your breathing picked up. Silco and Sevika’s motions synced up, and Sevika’s fingers rolled your nipple just as Silco gave your clit a firm rub. You moaned aloud, head tipping forward in time to see a smirk spread over Silco’s face.

“It sounds as if our pet is ready to be fucked,” he remarked conversationally to Sevika. “Shall we?”

“Hmm…” Sevika hedged, rolling her hips against your ass as she thought. The motion knocked you off-balance, pushing you forward along Silco’s cock and spearing you back onto both of them when you corrected your position. You let out a plaintive sound. “How can I resist when she sounds like that?”

“Are you ready?” Silco asked, grabbing your chin once more.

That grip kept you from nodding. With your three functional brain cells, you managed, “Yes. Please.”

“Please,” Sevika repeated, amused. “You don’t have to beg. Yet.”

And then they started to move. The first few thrusts were disjoined, leaving you tossed back and forth between them like a toy boat in a storm. But they found a devastating rhythm soon enough. Silco pumped in and out of you, using his length to best advantage. Sevika had less of a shaft to work with, but she focused her energy on giving a little swivel of her hips with every stroke. The combination was lethal.

It seemed that you had just started when your body tightened. Tension was screaming through every muscle, warning that you were only moments away from utterly imploding.

“I- I’m–” you stammered, someone taking the words from your lips before you could get any further than a single word into your warning.

“We know,” Silco said, smugness written across his face.

“Surprised you made it this long,” Sevika agreed.

You decided that the best revenge would be to come. Your body wasn’t waiting for permission from your brain, but the timing was great - no sooner had you made your decision than every muscle in your body locked down.

Colors burst behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm you’d ever had roared through you. You had always imagined going through a hex-gate would be like that: an all-encompassing experience that robbed you of every sense until you were through. Of course, if the hex-gates felt anywhere near as amazing as it did to come on Silco and Sevika’s cocks, you would understand the exorbitant prices for passage.

If not for Silco’s hands on your hips and Sevika’s arms around your torso, you would have stopped moving entirely, other than to collapse forward. Somehow, they kept you upright, even when they edged you toward overstimulation.

Silco let out a low, wordless growl as he fucked up into you hard for a thrust, then two. When he was buried as far into you as he could possibly get, he came. The condom he wore kept you from feeling its heat, but his staccato pounding pushed you into a strong aftershock.

He was almost pretty like that, you reflected, watching Silco writhe beneath you. Fierce, of course, and always imposing, but somehow pretty. Maybe it was the way his eyes flashed, or how his face narrowed even more with the intensity of his pleasure. Or maybe it was the way his jaw dropped, a helpless sound of pleasure leaving him even as his brow crinkled with irritation at his own vulnerability.

Eventually, Silco lay slack on the bed, watching you and Sevika as his cock slowly softened inside of you. You were still pushed forward and back on him, moving slightly with Sevika’s thrusts. It felt inappropriate somehow, having your ass fucked while you were watched by the man you had started the night with. But Silco seemed unbothered, tracing lazy circles against your hips as he held you still to receive Sevika’s thrusts.

You could come again this way, you decided idly. Anal was a slower build to orgasm than you were used to, but it was certainly more powerful when it got there.

“Close yet?” Silco asked eventually. It could have sounded impatient or jealous, but his tone was nothing more than curious.

“Close,” Sevika confirmed. “It’s a smaller hilt than I would have wanted.”

“Did you choose the one that vibrates?”

You couldn’t see Sevika’s expression, but there was something close to glee in her voice as she said, “Forgot about that, but yeah.”

“Allow me,” Silco offered valiantly. He reached to grab something from a nearby table, and then you were too busy writhing to worry about what he was holding.

Sevika’s toy buzzed violently in your ass, and you were choking on air at the unexpected sensation. You could only squirm with the surprise of it, but when you had regained some control of your muscles, your instincts hijacked your brain. The only thing you could do was lean forward onto hands you had planted against Silco’s chest, pulling away and thrusting yourself back onto Sevika’s toy as quickly as you could manage.

Between your sudden eagerness and Sevika’s continued thrusting, the toy pulled free of and punched back in far more often than it had up to that point. A small, almost silent part of you recognized that the ache would be fierce the next day, but that concern was overwhelmed by the vast majority of you that insisted this was necessary. You needed to come again. If you didn’t, you would die.

At last, Sevika gave a sharp, staccato cry and buried her face in your neck. The flexing of her hips buried the toy as far inside of you as it could get. The buzzing brought you to a small but powerful second orgasm. You reveled in every second of it, even as Silco turned off the toy’s vibrations and soreness immediately set in.

Sevika pulled out of you, and the resulting motion of your hips allowed Silco to slide free as well. You collapsed on the surface of the bed, your fall cushioned by blankets and the arms of the two strangers you’d had sex with.

They started a low conversation above you as you throbbed and basked in the afterglow. Either they were speaking too quietly for you to hear or your brain wasn’t quite capable of processing speech yet. Either way, you were largely left to your own thoughts.

You hadn’t watched Sevika come. That was the only part of the experience you regretted. Silco was beautiful when he came, and you were willing to bet that Sevika had been the same. Unfortunately, she had been behind you and there were no mirrors that you could see. You felt cheated, almost, robbed of the chance to see a strong, stunning woman brought to her knees with pleasure from your body.

But you couldn’t truly complain. The rest of the night had been incredible. Silco truly deserved to have so many people talking about his talents in the bedroom. If he had orchestrated the whole scenario - and you strongly suspected that he had - he was both a master manipulator and someone with a keen need for pleasure.

Yes, if you were only going to get one chance at this, you were satisfied in how things had played out. And you had been with both Silco and Sevika! Two of the most dangerous people in the Undercity had let you share their bed, and they had cared enough about your pleasure to be sure that you came twice.

Now, you had your own story to share… but you didn’t think you would. This felt like something to keep quiet and close, to treasure for the rest of your life. And, of course, to get off to when you were feeling particularly lonely or needy.

“Is she wrecked enough for your tastes?”

Silco’s quiet question was the first thing you had understood in quite some time, and you realized with a start that he was talking about you.

“Mmhmm,” Sevika hummed, sounding wickedly satisfied. “Look at her.”

Since they were sitting at the right angle to be staring at your sensitive core, you didn’t bother to keep your eyes open. You were tempted to be shy, but sleep was calling louder and louder. They had made a mess of you, after all. They could look at that mess if they liked.

“I would like to try her mouth next time,” Silco added, almost absently.

Sevika let out a short laugh. “Works for me. I wanna bury my tongue in that pussy until she’s sobbing.”

“We’ll have to do this again soon,” Silco agreed.

You could hardly believe your ears, but even your excitement couldn’t keep you awake. You faded into soft and filthy dreams, the words ‘next time’ echoing in your ears as you went.

---

Author's Note - The reader character does and says a lot less than I'm used to writing, so my apologies for that. Honestly, this was fueled by scraps of a weird dream after I had too much wine one night. My excuse is that it was a very overwhelming dream for an ace-spectrum writer, so I just got it all down on paper as soon as I could!

Thanks for reading!

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violetsiren90 · 2 years ago

Text

Send Me to Hong Kong

Yoongi/Reader (fem reader)

Genre: One-shot; established relationship; smut

Summary: Yoongi discovers one of your major kinks.

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI!!), explicit smut, kissing, biting, hickeys, neck-grabbing, dirty talk, slight-dom Yoongi, spontaneous desire, studio sex, clothed sex, quickie sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (established relationship context), multiple orgasms, cream pie, cock warming, talk of kinks, talk of wet dreams, talk of sharing intimate partner information (with permission), hardcore smut with some humor and slight fluff

Author's note: Hello, my dear reader! This is my very first time posting a fic on this platform, as well as my first time posting for BTS, and a hardcore smut. *whooshes out a sigh* So, I'm nervous. I've had this in my archives for a while now, so I decided to just throw it out there after a couple small changes in honor of our bad boy's tour launch. I don't have a big presence here, so if you discover this and read it, I just want to thank you so much for taking your time to peruse my humble scrawlings. Have the absolute best day, and remember that as Yoongi says, you're worthy of love as you are! 💜

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He dropped to his knees and pulled your leg up over his shoulder, but you grabbed his shirtfront in both hands and slid him up your body, hitching a bent leg around his waist to bring his hips flush with your own.

“No, Yoongi…I’m ready,” you insisted.

His brow furrowed in confusion as you took his hand and guided it to your panties, which he instantly bypassed, slipping two fingers into your soaking folds. His eyes flicked up to yours when he felt the bountiful evidence of your intense arousal. He raised his brows.

“Just from…” he mumbled, but you cut him off.

“You - your rapping…I…I was ready halfway through that second demo,” you insisted breathlessly.

At your words, something his eyes changed from lustful to ravenous, and in a nanosecond he was pinning you against the wall, biting at your neck as he ripped the panties from your thighs in a few strong yanks. You spread your legs wide as you whined desperately against his shoulder,

“Fuck me, Yoongi. I need to feel you inside me."

He let out a moan that was almost an animalistic growl before disposing hurriedly of his belt and jeans. You reached your hand down to stroke his hard length over his cotton boxer briefs, cursing to yourself, and capturing his mouth in a kiss that was all tongue and heat and primal desire. You pushed impatiently at the band of his underwear, and he stumbled out of them, his mouth leaving little pink marks across your chest and breasts. You tossed your head back against the wall, gasping and writhing under his touch. All at once you felt the smooth warmth of his tip touch your aching entrance.

“Oh, god, Yoongi, please!” you whimpered desperately.

He slid his left hand up to your neck and brought his lips to your ear, rasping out, shaky and with effort, yet dominant and demanding,

“Tell me…why.”

A shudder ran through you, as you realized what was happening…and you rose to the task.

“Because you’re the mother-fucking king,”

You felt him tense against you as you moaned out the words.

"When I listen to you rap I don’t even need to touch myself - ah!"

He squeezed.

"It’s as if your tongue is fucking my pussy while you spit those fucking bars - oh, fuck!"

He squeezed again,

"And now I just want your cock in me so I can make you cum - hah!”

He squeezed his shaking hand around the back of your neck one final time and groaned as he pushed into your throbbing cunt. He immediately started moving with urgency, and your slick walls accommodated the pace, as they swelled around him and you matched his bucking with your own.

“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, fuck!”

You cried out as he had you cumming already, just from his presence in your core in a few quick strokes. He picked up his pace, pounding into you, his tip grazing over your internal nerves at an incredible speed. You felt a climax mounting in you again as his thrusts grew shaky, at frantic stuttering intervals. He was about to cum.

You pulled his face to yours so you could take his mouth in a heady kiss, moaning onto his lips as your second orgasm took you. As you rode the wave of your own pleasure, you felt him explode, his cock shaking and pulsating as he pumped his cum into you. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his forehead soaked in sweat and his heart pounding into your own rapid pulse point.

You ran your hand through his damp hair and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. You held him tenderly as his breathing slowed and his body weight seemed to shift back into his own stance. You realized, glancing down, that you were still connected where your bodies met. He dragged his forehead onto yours, fixing you with half-lidded warm, dark eyes.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispered.

You answered him with a languid kiss, not pulling away until you had pulled a groan from him by sucking on his soft pink tongue. Licking your lips, your smiled at him.

“No one turns me on like you,” you murmured, grinning, “You know I came twice?”

He huffed a breath of surprise in response.

“You did?” he smirked, looking more than a little smug.

You nodded. He glanced down between your bodies.

"You gonna let me go now?”

“No!” you protested with a sudden pout, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer.

He was soft inside you, and you loved the feeling of just holding him. You squeezed firmly once around him and he took a sharp breath.

“Aish, naekkeo, if you keep that up I’ll be hard again…”

You giggled, and tugged him into another kiss as he unwrapped your legs and withdrew from you, leaving your body to feel the lack of him as his cum began to seep down your thighs and onto the desk.

“I’m glad I have at least a fraction of the effect on you that you have on me,” you teased, chuckling.

He shook his head, then looked up at you with a genuinely curious expression.

“So…my rapping?”

You nodded, unabashed.

"Since when?”

You shrugged.

“Since always. I remember the first time I watched the one of your sets…you know how in some songs you're going hard, and then you switch up the flow and start going really soft and fast?”

Yoongi nodded.

"Well, the first time I heard you rap like that I ruined my panties. And I didn’t even know you. It was just so fucking hot, I couldn’t help myself.”

Yoongi chewed his bottom lip as if trying to process what you had just told him.

“You’re gonna have to be careful or you’re going to give me a nasty ego,” he scrunched up his lips and nose in that adorable endearing way and you smiled.

“Good, I don’t care. If you’re the best, you’re the best, there’s no denying it,” you shrugged, leaning back on your elbows. “Oh, yeah, and once, in a dream, I was watching you rap at a show and it brought me to orgasm. Like, I had a fucking wet dream because that tongue of yours invaded my sleep,” you divulged, smiling wickedly.

Yoongi’s mouth hung open a little, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Oh, that was after I got to know you, though," you continued, "Not too long before…you know…we gave in.”

Yoongi smirked and looked up at you teasingly.

“You’re kinky, you know that?”

You shrugged.

“Maybe a little. It’s not like you’re super vanilla yourself,” you shot back, cocking an eyebrow at him while remembering his very enthusiastic reaction to your revelations.

Yoongi smirked mischievously. You chuckled and kissed him on the nose.

“Happy birthday, nae sarang,” you murmured warmly, sliding off the desk.

After collecting your panties and turning toward the restroom, you shot a coy glance over your shoulder and added,

"And by the way, if you get drunk with the guys tonight and want to brag a little…you have my permission.”

You tossed him a wink, and stuffed the panties into his pocket before slipping into the bathroom and clicking the door shut with a smile.

-Fin-

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