#yes miss sheen i see you and i am picking up what you are putting down [insert pepe silvia meme]

[playablekairi]

i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Two♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Two Warnings: profanity How to find the other chapters in my pinned post

♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱

[Chapter Two]

“[name]!”

You turned your head, before seeing Emily racing towards you to tackle you to the ground in a hug. You laughed, although it came out as more of a wheeze under her crushing grip, and hugged back. She raised her head, eyes watery. 

“Adam said you disappeared,” she said, and the barely restrained fury at him was evident in her voice, which dropped to an incredulous whisper. “Where were you? What happened? Sera’s mad as hell-“

“He didn’t leave me,” you managed to crack a reassuring smile, and Emily’s shoulders drooped at your next words, “I flew off.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he neglected his responsibility. And, frankly, ignored my direct orders to keep you safe.”

You raised your head to see Sera, her forehead creased in a stressed frown. “Come with me to my office.” She began to turn, then paused, eyebrows pulling right down, deepening her frown. “Is that blood on your clothes?”

You glanced down. The dark patches seemed to be covered with a thin gilded sheen. “I-it’s nothing, really,” you babbled, scrambling to wipe it off, only to see most of it had dried.

Sera didn’t seem convinced.

Emily pulled you up before you followed them hesitantly, the confusion on her face at the situation evident, even though she was smiling at you nervously.  You gulped. 

Charming. 

♱♱♱

“So, to be clear, you let [name] fly off and put herself in harm's way even though she has no experience as an exterminator?” Sera turned from Adam to you. “[name], this is only a one time thing. You are most certainly not accompanying the exterminators down to Hell next year. After Adam has proven how neglectful he is-“

“No,” you gasped, the words flying out your mouth without you even thinking about them.

 The entire room seemed to freeze.

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat and continued, more gently. “No, it wasn’t his fault. See, what happened was-“ you glanced over at where Adam was seated next to you. He raised an eyebrow, face flat, and you swallowed. Your throat felt like a desert. 

“I flew off,” you continued. “He went after me, I mean, he really tried I swear. But I shook him off and ended up tearing my wing on a branch, hence the blood- he found me a while later and healed me up. The wound wasn’t too serious. It only broke some skin, and- and, I could still fly. We just lost each other in the crowd going back up to the Pentagram is all.”

What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? You could almost feel the beads of sweat forming on your brow as you smiled at her stiffly. 

Sera turned and looked at Adam, waiting for his confirmation. He looked over at you, grinning wide. You pointedly stared back, which wasn’t necessary- he didn’t miss a beat. “Yup. That’s what happened. I was tryna tell ya the whole time and you guys just weren’t listening.”

“Please let me go next year, Sera,” you pleaded, eyes widening. She chewed her lip, contemplating, as you continued. “I was perfectly fine. And I may not be an experienced exterminator, but you know more than well enough I can hold my own against a couple of mere sinners.” You shot a look at Adam.

”Yeah, [name]’s powerful as fuck-“

“I wouldn’t say powerful-“ you began, but was cut off by Sera.

“You’re far too modest, [name],” Sera smiled at you tiredly. “And what you said seems to add up. I know you’d never lie to me-“ she side-eyed Adam, who didn’t notice, continuing to pick at his nails. “-Or to anyone, for that matter. Yes, you may go again next year if you wish.”

You looked at the ground. “Thank you, Sera,” you said, your own voice ringing small in your ears.

♱♱♱

“Jeez, sugartits, I didn’t think I’ve ever heard you lie before,” Adam smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You glared at him in fury, before jabbing a finger at his chest. You were both in a hallway, Sera’s office door at the end of the corridor where you had come from. 

“Watch it, Adam,” you hissed, then took a deep breath, calming yourself down. “I did it for you, so be grateful.”

“…thanks.”

You smiled at him. “No problem.” 

You both stared at each other for a few moments, before Adam spoke.

“Are we gonna fuck right now?”

“No!” You hissed, exasperated, feeling your face burn. “No, we are not. Here’s what is gonna happen, Adam. Next extermination, you’re gonna let me fly off by myself, mind your own business, and not tell Sera, and if you don’t do that, I’ll blab and tell them everything. And then they’ll hate you forever.”

He stared at you for a second, blankly. You gulped, your blood pounding in your ears. Crap. Dumb idea-

Adam finally raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to go off sneaking around Hell during the extermination, sugartits? Got a secret?”

“Most certainly not,” you snapped. “I simply want to explore Hell alone.”

Adam stared at you for a moment. “You never say what’s on your fuckin’ mind, do ya, sugartits? You always gotta water it down to be nice. If I annoy the shit outta you, just say that.” 

Your gaze softened, then you shook your head and stared at your feet. “I’m not a mean person.”

“Not mean if it’s the truth.” He shrugged. You looked back up at him. He was wearing that familiar, shit-eating grin again. You huffed and rolled your eyes, kicking at the pristine floor. 

“Sure. Well, some people have a filter.” 

“Meh. Whatever.”

“So, will you do what I asked you to do?”

Yeah, I’ll do what you want.”

“Wait really?” You stared at him. 

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck. Do what you want, you saved my ass from a three hour lecture back in there anyways.”

You watched him walk away until he rounded a corner and disappeared, shocked at his nonchalance, and then pressed your back to the wall and sank down, head in your hands. 

Did you seriously lie to the Seraphim just to be able to go back to Hell next year? Why? Why?

Was it because of- no way. Don’t be ridiculous. You knew Lucifer had the quality of being ‘tempting’, from what the Bible said, at least, but there was no way you were being led to temptation from a small interaction with absolutely no ‘tempting’ aspects to it. Whatsoever. 

Hell is a nice break from Heaven. And it’s interesting to see what it’s like. I’m just curious is all… 

You stared at your hands, mind flashing back to something Sera had said a while ago.

Curiosity killed the cat. 

“[name]?”

You looked up. Sera was staring down at you. “Are you alright?”

You cursed internally, your heart almost leaping out of your throat. “Yes, Sera, I’m just… thinking.”

“Perhaps I could help?”

You studied her face. It was wearing the specific, reserved look she wore for when she was suspicious but didn’t want to show it. You smiled and shook your head. 

“I’m just trying to figure out what I ate this morning that could make my stomach hurt this much.”

Sera’s face relaxed, nodding. You knew that she wouldn’t believe that you’d lie to her. You knew it would be easy to squash her suspicions. 

“Well,” Sera said, “Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded smiled weakly again, watching her steady, deliberate steps as she disappeared around the corner, then hung your head again, sighing.

You prayed you weren’t digging yourself into a hole.

♱♱♱

A/N: Stay Tuned!

Taglist: @boredlime, @ica1, @tremendoushearttaco, @sweetadonisbutbetter, @lucky-flowey,@kitty-kei, @thornwolfy235, @w31rd3rg1rl, @marxo5, @lvstyangel

[ktheist]

take my whole life too | m

muses. jeongguk x heir!reader

genre. chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

words. 5k

warnings. dad!jeongguk, house husband!jeongguk, simp!jeongguk, implied smut verging on actual smut, mentions of break up and arguments

x

you never gave much thought for jeon jeongguk - not for how he looks, not for how much he makes, not for how compatible you are together. nothing. so much for promising to stay together through health and sickness till death do you apart.

but that’s just the thing, you were willing to let go of your heart in exchange for the wealth of your family. which is inherently yours until the findings of your grandfather’s will appointing his administrators the task of safeguarding the billions of dollar estate against his unmarried granddaughter who to be fair, has always had her eyes on that bejeweled ring of his. it’s less about the diamond and more about what possessing - legally, of course - the ring could do. for one, nobody could challenge your legitimacy as the chairman of luxean. and boy, do your overbearing aunties like to nitpick every little thing you do at the board meeting just to put their sons and daughters in a better light.

so yeah, you would say sacrificing your non-existent possibility of falling in love would suffice. plus, jeongguk can go shopping for convertibles with a swipe of a card, fly from london to italy to greece and back to london within one night. heck, he can even have a steamy hot night with the locals and bring back a greek goddess of a mistress if he wanted to.

except for one problem: he wants to do all those things with you.

well, considering how he stripped down to just pants with the buckle undone and protrusion of well defined abs that leads to a tantalizing v-line beneath the contrasting black band of his calvin klein halfway to the bedroom of your suite after the ceremony, completely disregarding the fact you never spoke to him unless you were in the presence of other people - watching eyes - and the limited time you have to change into your second outfits, you figured he’d want more than just hot and steamy nights in paris and peaceful quiet mornings in athens in your sundress and off white spring hats.

he either hasn’t figured out that he’s just a tool for you to gain public opinion or he doesn’t particularly care as long as he’s getting some.

“you’re leaving?” the voice that asked the very obvious question bears a sort of despondency to it.

when you turn to face the man lying naked - and looking like a well sculpted greek god at that - in the bed, you curse yourself for forgetting the one simple thing that you promise yourself not to do: look at him in the eye. by god, you’ve never seen anyone -  any man - who could be so good at weakening your resolution and making you want to climb into bed and cuddle him like a puppy.

“didn’t soyeon tell you i have a meeting?” you manage to sound casual about it for the most part as you put on the earrings that lie abandoned on the vanity when jeongguk came in just before you were almost done with your make up and bent you over the vanity to fuck you once before carrying you to the bed and fuck you in your sensitive state.

“i know,” he mumbles.

and when only silence follows suit, you can’t help but let your hands rest on your hip as you raise your eyebrows, “but?”

it takes a moment of the man trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and leaving it with a sort of pinkish shine when he releases it, “can we have another go?”

“you’re hard?” this time, the surprise in your voice is unconcealable, “again?”

“i know - i’m sorry - it’s just... that dress looks really good on you,” he doesn’t even bother to hide his ogling.

so to answer the question of whether you fucked him that time at your suite when you were supposed to change, yes you did.

“sounds like a you kind of problem,” you wave with the hand that picked up your purse - all your essentials already there, “go out and have a look at athens before we fly for london tomorrow - oh and maybe grab some dinner for yourself.”

“when will you be back?” as much as you like to think you’re indifferent to your husband, you can’t help but think he looks endearing for shying away from your gaze and rubbing the back of his head hesitantly, “i thought maybe we could have dinner together.”

there’s a strain in his voice but you brush it off, shrugging, “what do you think meetings like this are held over? i am going for dinner,” you want to take that back as soon as it escaped your lips but instead, you turn around, “anyways, don’t wait up.”

that’s one habit that he seems to have - waiting for you until you climb into bed with him after long hours of frying your eyes in front of the laptop in the common area.

either way, you strut out of your suite, leaving your husband with a semi-hard cock, you didn’t miss the way it twitched at your blatant rejection just before you turned your back on him.

and so you go about your day, the meeting coming to a close flawlessly as with a signed contract and a meal worthy of the restaurant’s reputation. by the time you thought the approaching figure from the corner of your eyes is the waiter bringing your desserts, kim taehyung was in the middle of thanking you “for meeting me on such a short notice, on your honeymoon at that.”

“i should thank you for reaching out to my secretary when you heard i’d be here too,” you chuckle, hand pushing a stray hair to the back of your ear before your gaze travels up to meet the man’s, “my grandfather always says, there’s no security on this earth, only opportunity,” raising the wine glass mid air, you offer him a smile, “and god does not help anyone seize it unless they do so themselves.”

“the late chairman was a wise man,” he raises his own glass, only to freeze at an awkward angle when the waiter finally approaches you.

except it isn’t the waiter. 

it’s-

“___,” a voice fills your ears like velvet on skin, you already know who it belongs to before you even look up at the man whose out-of-character furrowed brows and pressed lips all but makes you want to shoot up from your seat and spout out explanations you don’t even owe him, “i thought i’d pick you up since it’s,” he checks his rolex - it was the first thing you bought him after assessing his lack of accessory after you’d both signed the contract, “half an hour till midnight and the polignotou isn’t going to wait for us.”

taehyung is the one to break the silence, “it seems i’ve taken up too much of your time.”

before you can even refute it, he’s already standing up and fixing his blazer before stepping to the side to properly face your husband. 

“congratulations of your marriage, mr. jeon,” then he turns to you, his smile just as excellent at yours when it comes to hiding your emotions and that could only mean that tonight is drawing to an end on a bad note thanks to your husband’s interruption, “mrs. jeon.”

and with a final words of ‘i’ll have my secretary send you the papers soon’, he’s gone like the wind.

“what are you doing here? i told you i had a meeting! not gallivanting with some greek men!” the words come out in a low hiss when he takes the abandoned seat across from you as you gaze around the vicinity in case there are other business acquaintances that happen to know you.

“i’m sorry -” he mumbles out, “i was walking down the streets and i saw you at the balcony of the restaurant and-” he stops short of his words, tongue darting out over his lower lip for the briefest moment.

“and?” you echo, brows arched.

“i got jealous of seeing you with another guy,” his voice is barely above whisper but you hear it loud and clear.

you’re almost sure that you’ve slipped but and let your eyes narrow at him like a puzzle that you can’t figure out but it’s gone in a heartbeat as you pick up your purse and clear your throat. possibly in search for the right words to say but perhaps also an admittance of your caught-off-guard situation.

either way you stand up, “let’s go, the street starts getting scarcer by 2 and i’d rather stay safe and walk with more people than less.”

x

you did end up walking.

it was a halfway walk but it’s still a walk, that was, until you saw jeongguk pulling on the material of his pants every two minutes. the lack of lights did well to hide it but even then, your eyes automatically pans towards the noticeable protrusion in between his legs. as if your body has completely adapted to his scent - that subtle but evident scent of masculinity, his gaze - the pure, unadulterated desire within the shadows in his eyes and his touch - the way his hand seems to inch lower down your ass before he traces back up to settle on the dip of your spine before it left you cold and unattended when he started to tug on his pants.

“jeongguk -ah, fuck,” you bite back the moan that spills over your lips, “you’re making too much noise.”

“yeah?” his voice bears a lull to it as he thrusts in and out of you in the way that makes your legs come together and your heart leap all the way to your throat as your hands grip onto the dampened cart jeongguk pushed you against in the closest alleyway you were walking towards before he bent you over, lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down.

not even a minute passed before you felt him inside you. and by god, did you feel filled to the brim. the sheen of sweat coating your skin is cold against the chilly night air, the sinful sounds echoing off the walls makes you pray for the first time in a long time that no one is nearby and the way jeongguk is hitting all your sweet spots has you gritting your teeth in hopes that it’d be one less sound to get you arrested for public indecency.

in a country that you’re not a citizen of, at that.

you’re not sure how you got back to your suite and how the hell did you switch into your night dress but you have an inkling that it has something to do with the man whose arm traps you against a hard, muscled body when you started shifting to wake.

his breath fans the back of your neck as he slurs his words but you can make out a ‘five more minutes’ after a grumble and a faint ‘chaeyoung’ at the end.

“no,” you’re not sure what or who you’re saying the words of rejection to, but you slam a fist into arm that’s holding you, “let me go! jeongguk! let me go!”

he finally does at the bloodcurdling scream that could wake up the whole city. but somehow security hasn’t come bursting through the door and the streets in front of your room hasn’t halted its hustling and bustling.

“wh-what happened?” jeongguk’s wide eyes scan the room for the one, solid minute before they rest on you but instead of settling with the deduction that your scream was caused by his own entrapment - possibly the unfamiliar name he blurted out - he crawls over to you, “are you okay?” hand on your cheek as he checks for something.

they return to your eyes when you slap it away though.

you’re not even sure why you’re seeing red but you attribute it to the fact that- “how did i get in this?”

he takes one look and blinks, “i changed you because you fell asleep in the cab and i carried-”

“why?” arms crossed over your chest, you speak over him.

“i... i thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in that dress,” you can almost hear the screws in his brain turning in search for answers.

“stop, okay? don’t act like you’re some award-winning husband - you’re not, you were broke and was about to lose your only source of income when i came to you and asked if you wanted to not have to work a day in your life,” he must’ve not known that his eyebrows twitch at the words, “it’s always been about the money - i get it, so you can stop now. we don’t have to play house when no one’s around because this isn’t an actual marriage and we don’t even love each other.”

you expected the stars in his eyes to dim out, expected him to avert his gaze somewhere to the most random thing like the ugly vase next to the door or the phone on the nightstand or the window where the sound of kids laughing and vendors across the street obnoxiously greeting his neighboring competition.

but instead, he looks straight at you, “what is it then?” he asks, “what are we if those good night kisses, cuddling into each other in the middle of the night when we woke up briefly before falling back to sleep, holding hands while walking and making love every night-”

“i don’t know where you got that because i never kissed you, i never asked you to wait for me to go to sleep together and i never touched you first - they were all you,” your head dips to the side just the slightest bit, “and we had sex every night. that’s it - it’s just sex.”

the last thing you see before you climb off the bed and lock yourself in the bathroom, dialing up your secretary’s number to book a plane ticket for yourself, is what you’ve initially expected to see.

stars that don’t shine as bright as the morning they twinkle and greet for the first time of the day. brows that knit together but not because he’s anxious or nervous about telling you something.

when you stepped out, he’s gone and you don’t leave any notes. not even a text after you packed up your belongings, hailed a cab and went straight to the airport in your darkest shades and brightest dress.

and so it goes, not a single rumor about your early arrival in seoul and your lack of spouse with you. mainly because jeongguk and you have put up quite a show for those watching eyes. a love story worth spectating and an ending keenly awaited. but you’ve made it clear, during your about-to-hit one month honeymoon that you’re truly, deeply, madly in love with your chosen husband, so much so, that you’re willing to leave the chairman seat unguarded. 

it’s a gamble but it worked like magic. the board members welcome you back into the company without any inquiry even though you’re one week too early. mr. yoo even seems relieved to see you when you’re on your way to your office on your first day back.

“it’s nice to see you again, miss ____ -” he stops himself, “i mean, mrs. jeon.”

you shake your head, laughing, “miss ___ is fine for me, everyone’s known me as that for so long.”

when you reach the end of the hallway where you have to part to go to your office, and him to his, you tap him on the arm once with a hand that lacks a wedding ring but he doesn’t seem to care as he dips into a bow and bids you a good day.

and so it goes, you start burying yourself in your pending works while also juggling surprise visits from two of your aunts, to which each does not fail to not-so-discreetly give your left hand a once over. but you’re faster, having kept your ring in the drawer and pulling it out and slipping it on under the desk before standing up to greet the elder women both times without fail.

on the day jeongguk and you were supposed to return, you’ve debated on booking a hotel just because you don’t want to face him - soyeon briefed him about your sudden departure back to korea and that there was no reason for him to come back with you. and so he stayed. travelled to london and then to glasgow with a black card and unlimited possibilities - just liked you promised him on the day you signed the contract.

things might have gotten off track but coming back to the familiar scent of ocean from your candlewicks and the bonzai that belonged to your deceased grandfather in the corner of the room, you’ve found your purpose again - the reason you would go so far as to sacrifice your heart for this position.

you’re never going to lose sight of it ever again.

but when the door beeps once after you punched in the code, the smell of something delicious waft in the air after you stepped into your apartment and jeongguk greeting you with a pink apron with printed with hearts all over it, you feel yourself freezing in your spot.

“oh, you’re back?” his back is on you as he redirects his attention to the sizzling goodness in the hot pan, “i’m making fried noodles, it’ll be done it 10 minutes - why don’t you go and change first?”

it takes a moment of you staring at the black tresses of his head and the broad shoulders with a pink string hanging over the back of his neck before you actually take a step towards the stairs. once you’ve showered and dressed in your pajamas - you prefer those than the lingerie jeongguk has only ever seen you in - it takes another moment for you to stare at the golden strings layered with button mushrooms, beef slices and prawns and a fried egg over them.

“okay,” you shake your head, as if to shake away the trance that seems to come over you - jeongguk’s already looking at you with a curve on his lips, “what is this?”

“friend noodles,” he says simply.

“no,” another round of head-shaking passes, “i mean, what are you doing? i literally insulted you and called you a bum and a gold digger.”

he takes a minute to mull over the matter, bottom lip jutting out as if to say, “yeah, i kinda am.”

“you must also not realize that i only talk to you when we’re in public or when we’re having sex,” you point out, fork gripped tightly in your hand to which he gives a glance at before reaching to pull it out of your grasp and setting it on the napkin next to your plate.

“love making,” he reiterates but before you can even get a word out, he holds up a hand and tilts his head in a ‘wait’ kind of manner, “and a relationship is 50-50, you work and i cook and clean.”

your eyes narrow at him for the longest moment before you pick up the fork again, this time dipping it into the strands of gold and twirling it before directing it to yout mouth. an appreciative moan leaves you as the spice and sweetness spread over you like a whole new experience.

“good right?” jeongguk mimics your action, digging in and smiling proudly with the first bite.

it’s only when you’re done and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer, as you watch him take off the apron with his back on you whilst you lean against the edge of the counter, do you finally ask, “who’s chaeyoung?”

the way he freezes up with hands middair, in the middle of hanging the strap over the hook - isn’t the least bit surprising.

“wh-who?” the hesitant way he looks at you and then to his feet and then to the sink with a hand rubbing the back of his neck - is familiar. welcomed even but you don’t show.

“you tell me,” you shrug, “must’ve been someone important - someone who you’re used to having wake you up.” you let the silence hang in the air for several heartbeats, watching as his adam’s apple bob whilst his wide-eyed gaze shifts from the sink to the block of knives to the stool before they rest on you.

“maybe a girlfriend you left behind in exchange for money - the money i offered you,” and with that, you watch as his gaze shakes and his pink move but no words come out.

it’s only a long moment later, that he finally manages to find them, “i... i haven’t seen chaeyoung ever since we got married.”

“well, congratulations!” you bring your hands together in a crisp applause, lips curving into one of your schooled smiles, “soyeon contacted her and guess what she said? she said you told her you were going to the city to find a job and didn’t want her to wait on you which was why you broke up but poor little chaeyoung is still waiting for you on the country side - you can go see her and your parents.”

and with that, you turn your back on him for the first time since you left him to an empty suite and a cold bed. 

“why are you so...” but just as thought you could walk out of this like a winner, jeon jeongguk somehow manages to pull you several steps back with just words and eyes that bears more emotions than you can handle, “mean?”

“you’re always smiling and laughing with your secretary like you’re best friends, you always look sad when you talk about your grandfather and you always kiss your parents on the cheek every time you meet them... why-” he stops short when he meets your gaze - you’re not sure what he sees that makes him look like he’s been punched in the face with a wild ball. 

“i’ve always been mean,” you feel your eyebrows rising before you blink once, “you just had your head in the clouds, dreaming about how you can make a girl with a rotten attitude change and maybe fall in love with you along the way - well guess what? i’m not her,” and just like that night in athens, something in the way he stands, stiff like a rock and eyes darkened with a sort of desire, your eyes travel down to his pants where a painfully obvious erection protrudes against the fabric of his pants, “...and you like it.”

“no, i - this - it’s...” he fumbles on his words as he clasps his hands over his crotch, but the way his eyes seem to find solace at the sight of your cleavage screams desperation and agony.

“___... you don’t have- fuck,” the first moan falls out of his mouth when yours wrap around him. 

“only because i can’t have a proper conversation when all you’re concerned about is how to take my blouse off from all the way across the room,” you say after a delicious ‘pop!’ when your cheeks hollow out just before you pull away.

it takes only a few more pumps before he’s begging you to “wait- please - i want you.”

it’s the ‘please’ that gets you.

“fine but don’t come inside,” you relent, hands fiddling with the zipper of your skirt before jeongguk’s polite ‘let me’ as he bends you over the counter, chilly air kissing your skin as a tear echo against the wall and you wonder if you’re free in the weekend to go shopping for-

“oh my god,” the moan slips out of your mouth in a pleasured surprise - you didn’t expect him to get your pantyhose, panties and skirt out of the way that fast.

thought with the barely noticeable discomfort of your panties digging into your hips, you figure he opted for keeping them pushed to the side instead of getting rid of them completely.

they do come off anyway, left in the trail of clothes strewn along the way to the stairs where jeongguk decides to have you bend over because “it’s a perfect place for a doggy,” and you concur as you moan and whine while he fucks you like he owns you. hand keeping your hair in a lock whilst he holds your upper body up whenever you’re about to lose yourself and bury your face in the steps. 

but you do manage to get to the bedroom, just not the bed. you made a mess on the carpet - it’s going to stain an ugly shade of sex and lust but soyeon will probably not even bat an eye once you ask her to schedule an appointment with an interior designer. might as well give your room a make over.

so it goes, jeongguk likes to call your eye rolls and offers to lend him a driver to drive him to his hometown to meet the love of his life - cute. alternatively, jealousy. which you simply roll your eyes at, again.

at times, he comes over to your office - mainly to take you out for lunch but ends up fucking you over your mahogany table. and later in the car on the side of the road where an officer came knocking on the fully tinted window - you had at least 60 seconds to button up your shirts and pull down your skirt while jeongguk zips up his pants with a whine before you roll your window down.

how the rest goes, you rather not say.

but you’ve sworn against car sex - at least in daylight and in an open space.

so when you end up walking past a mirror in your room, just as you’ve donned an off white blouse and a grey pencil skirt, you find yourself freezing in shock. hands coming to cup your stomach, you squint at the woman who’s squiting back at your belly.

“honey, breakfast is ready,” jeongguk pokes his head into the room, the infamous pink apron tied around his front and a pair of light orang oven mitts on his hands.

“do you think I gained weight?” you quiz, knowing full well that he’ll spout a heartwarming but blatant lie about-

“no, i think you’re a healthy weight,” a man that looks like him comes to hug the woman in the mirror, kissing her head before glancing at his reflection once and turning back to it, squinting his eyes at the part where your hands are.

“uh,” he hesitantly starts, “how much chipotle did you have last night?”

“not enough that’s for sure,” you turn to him with an incredulous look, “i went to bed hungry,” a light smack lands on his chest - to which he doesn’t even bat an eye, “cause you keep stealing my food!”

“maybe we should book an appointment,” he suggests, voice smooth but the glint in his eyes and the suppressed smile on his face gives away his exitement.

“no, i can’t be pregnant,” you shake your head, walking over to the vanity to pick up your purse and keys, “it’s not the right time.”

“but what if you are?” you hear the hurt in jeongguk’s voice but your interest overrides your emotiones.

“i just can’t be,” and with that, you place a kiss on his lips, “i’m sorry, baby.”

and with that, you left for the kitchen when jeongguk still tried to reason with you. he tried again for the next few days until you set your food down and told him a baby is never going to be in the picture.

but two months down, you barely fit your clothes and jeongguk has been kissing you good morning before bending down and pressing his ear to your belly, “and good morning to you, my little blueberry.”

and he’s been kissing you good night before pecking your stomach and wishing the life form growing inside you a ‘come out fast so mommy and daddy can meet you, okay?’

“good news and bad news,” soyeon said exactly one month ago after you’d fainted in a middle of a meeting and woke up in a hospital room, “you can’t be pregnant but you are and you’re gonna need an heir soon anyway so...”

“it’s bigger than a blueberry now,” you point out  - jeongguk’s been calling your child a blueberry ever since he rushed to the hospital after getting a call that his wife fainted and once he was there, got flashed with a sonogram the size of- “the doctor said it’s as big as a blueberry, not chipotle,” you’d been indifferent, mainly because a child wasn’t in your plan and you’d been taking birth control since way before you got married.

but jeongguk had been overjoyed. taking care of you everywhere you go, he didn’t even let you drive and instead searched up for drivers with a long list of the lowest rates of accidents in their records. he gets into the shower with you because he “can’t wait to have a family shower together” and packages of baby clothes have been pouring in with matching shirts and ‘mom’, ‘dad’ and ‘baby’ printed on each one and he shows them to you after you got back from work.

his love for your child had made you fall in love with being a mother. with having a family of your own - the two notions you never thought you could wrap your head around as you made your vows to each other two years ago. 

and it’s somewhere down the line, as you watch jeongguk rock your baby in his arm as she sleeps soundly amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, jeongguk’s voice like a lullaby as he murmurs ‘you’re so beautiful, you have mommy nose, and my lips, thank you for being born,’ and when he twirls around, probably feeling the heat of someone’s stare from all the way on the bed, he looks at you with that lost, wide-eyed wonder before his lips curl into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents.

-it’s then, do you realize that jeongguk has become the person you smile and laugh with, the person you greet with a kiss and the person your heart beats for.

he’s your husband, lover, soulmate.

x

note. i have another preview with the same title and characters but from a historical era which i haven’t managed to finish but if you see a marquis!jk and x heir!reader then yk hehe. also if you like arranged marriage au’s do check my masterlist! i have a lot of them apparently (i just realized while writing this fic lol)

i’ve been super stressed and feel like i haven’t actually been doing anything i really like in the weekend so i sat down and decided to finish this draft idea once and for all! 

first off, oc is a douche bag who cares about herself a lot but it’s written in her pov which i hope portrays a justification (which isn’t necessarily okay) to the things she do. but in other people’s story, she’s that woman who stole a person’s man, or she’s that hard ass boss that nobody really likes but pays good, or that graunddaughter that seems to think about her grandfather’s money only. but no one is easily good or bad, it’s more than that just like oc. and i hope to send at least that message through this story. not one can be just ‘good’ or ‘bad’.

in my opinion, there’s no development in her character bc of the word count and the fact that i didn’t plan for it to be long enough to include a development. i just wanted to write about an asshole who has feelings and can be nice to certain people. she’s probably still an asshole but her feelings for jeongguk changed and so is her treatment towards him (as per foreshadowed) and he became one of the people she loves - and i say probably because we’ll probably never know for sure and it’s also not up to my interpretation alone. you, the readers, may think she has or may think she hasn’t - either way, this is just a story about someone who you might know, maybe someone who you’d dupe as selfish. either way, i hope yall enjoyed it!

[goldentournesol]

Not in That Way

*gif not mine, found on Giphy*

(Spencer Reid x fem!Reader)

The one where Spencer’s TA falls in love with him.

Length: 3.3k

A/N: VAGUE SPOILERS FOR S15 AHEAD! AGE GAP (10 years). Read at your own risk everybody, very angsty. NO PART TWO’S WILL BE WRITTEN. enjoy :)

masterlist

It wasn’t hard, really. It wasn’t hard at all to fall in love with Spencer Reid. In fact, it was the easiest thing she’d ever done. It came so easily that it shook her to the core.

Really, what’s not to love? He is a badass FBI agent with a heart of gold, he can literally recite almost any book to her on demand, and it certainly doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been sculpted by a coveted artist.

She didn’t know though, she didn’t know how easy it would be to be completely enamored by someone. She didn’t know what kind of life she’d be stepping into when she’d applied to become his Teaching Assistant. She’d heard from her peers that there was a part-time professor who had been looking for a TA. She signed up without a second thought, desperate for any kind of connections that could possibly help her with her PhD in forensic psychology. When she’d learned that he was a certified genius whose other job was to be a real life superhero, she hoped and prayed he’d pick her application.

She was over the moon when she found out that he did indeed pick her out of all the students who had applied. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. She’d seen his university ID photo on the website and thought he was attractive, but seeing him in person was almost magical. The camera definitely could not quite pick up on the subtle gold flecks in his irises or the silky sheen of his hair. And that smile. She was sure she could drown in it forever.

After being chosen and going through a number of interviews, Y/N learned just how meticulous Dr. Reid was in everything he did. She helped him create the syllabus as well as build his lesson plans. Over the semester, she would go over his grading since he had the tendency to give students the answers instead of making helpful comments on the papers to make them think and reflect. She’d also learned about his particular aversion to technology, which meant they had multiple meet-ups when he was in town just so she can walk him through certain systems, like the university’s portal system as well as the email. She also showed him how to pose his answers as questions instead, explaining that sometimes, he shouldn’t answer their incomplete thoughts because it's an undergrad class. Also, with his unpredictable schedule concerning the FBI, she would often step in and teach his class whenever he was away on a case.

They’d become good friends outside of his office and classroom, probably closer than they should have been. He was just too likeable and she was always eager enough to hear what he had to say, thus a bond between them was born and reinforced each time they saw each other. He was so thoughtful, it shocked her. Once he’d heard her mention that she used to love collecting keychains when she was a child, and made sure to get her a new one from each state he’d visit thanks to his trips around the country. Her previous boyfriends were beyond disappointing in comparison to say the least, and they weren’t even dating. He knew her favorite coffee order by heart and often had it ready with a fresh croissant whenever they met at the university’s coffee shop and if they were meeting at his office, he’d take them to go. 

It was little things like that that made her fall in love with him. And she knew, it’s not like she didn’t, she just chose to hide it with every cell of her being. Crushing on your professor is pretty common amongst university students, but being a TA and being desperately in love with your professor was a whole different kind of story. 

She already admired his intelligence in class immensely, however hearing his stories from his time out in the field made her heart grow three times the size of normal. His stories ranged from being about geographical profiling, to action-packed anecdotes, and even funny moments with the team.

Was she constantly impressed by him? Yes.

Was she constantly worried about him? Also yes.

Which is why she’d practically made him adopt the habit of texting or calling her every time he landed in DC. They’d been chasing this unsub, Lynch, for months on end and he’d informed her that they were finally close to getting him. The last time they talked two days ago, he was feeling confident. But then it was just silence. He hadn’t texted her, he hadn’t called her. She didn’t even know if he was back in DC. Her mind took her places she didn’t want to go. He’d gotten so good with keeping her updated that this silence was turning her blood into ice water.

She’d left 11 missed calls so far. But she didn’t give up, she was determined to hear from him. The next morning she tried again, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut in a silent prayer.

“Hello?” Someone finally picked up, a woman.

“Hello? Who is this? I’m trying to reach Spencer Reid.” Y/N said into the phone, voice clearly on the edge of tears.

“Oh you must be Y/N Y/L/N. You’re Spencer’s TA. I’m Penelope Garcia, I work with Spencer.” She said into the phone evenly, calmly.

“Yes, I am. Did something happen to Spencer? He hasn’t contacted me in two days. Why do you have his phone?” Y/N worried into the phone. She could hear every heartbeat, loud and clear.

“Spencer is in the hospital. There was an explosion yesterday and he hit his head really hard. We found him passed out in his apartment this morning.” Penelope answered. Y/N’s eyes widened and she felt the tears slip from her eyes quickly. The panic began to set in.

“C-could you please text me the address?” Y/N managed to whisper into the phone through her tears.

“Of course, sweetie. He’s going to be okay. His mother is here, I’m assuming you know about Diana?” She asked tenderly.

“Yes, yes, I know. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Y/N said, already rushing to put on shoes and looking for her keys.

The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but Y/N felt like it took ages to get there anyway. Her breathing was uneven and her eyes were already swollen as if she’d been crying for days. There was a bad, bad feeling reverberating around in her chest. She’d somehow floated through the hospital like she was running on autopilot. 

She’d found the room and met eyes with a blonde woman adorning two identical blue puffs in her hair. She would have thought they were adorable if she wasn’t panicking her heart out. She spotted Spencer laying on the hospital bed with oxygen tubes hanging around his ears and inserted into his nose. The sight made her stomach lurch. Something about the way his usually pink lips were drained of their color made her want to sob until tomorrow came. Beside the bed on the other side sat Diana Reid, a tall woman with short blonde hair. She’d seen her in photos before. Diana merely stared at her with a hint of a smile.

She stepped in the hospital room, swallowing down the bile in her throat, “H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” She waved tentatively into the room, almost unable to keep with the tensity of the two women’s gazes. She wiped at her eyes and stood at the foot of Spencer’s bed, “Is he going to be okay?” She asked, staring at the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s chest. That way it was reassuring to watch him. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she stood.

“The doctors are hopeful.” Penelope replied, assessing the young woman who just entered. She was much younger than she previously thought she was. Although she had no idea what to expect when it came to Spencer’s academic life, he was always surprising her.

Diana sat still and silent in the hospital chair, a pensive expression draped across her features. Penelope sensed a tension in the room and looked towards Diana, “Hey, Diana, would you like to come with me down to the cafeteria to fetch some jello for Spencer to eat when he wakes up?”

Y/N sent Penelope a sidelong glance filled with gratitude. She tuned out the sounds of Diana telling Penelope the story of the first time Spencer had jello as they exited the small room. She immediately pulled up the chair closest to his bed and grasped his hand tightly. She let out a shaky breath at the contact. Cold, his hand was so, so cold.

“Oh, Spencer, you scared the shit out of me.” She whispered, pressing her lips to the back of his hand quickly, “I could have lost you today...and-and I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself if that would have happened. I know you probably can’t hear me, but I still have to say what I’m going to say. I have to. For myself. So here goes,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “there’s nothing that scares me more than losing you, and that thought alone terrifies me.” She sniffled, wiping away her tears, “What I feel for you terrifies me, Spencer. I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone so deeply until I met you. And...I don’t know what to do with all this love, I want to hand it all to you, let you see yourself the way I see you, but I can’t do that. I can’t.” She held back an incoming sob, whispering, “I can’t ask that of you.” 

She bowed her head and rested it along his forearm, her silent tears soaking through the hospital sheets. The fear of grieving for him outweighed the fear of rejection. She’d never forgive herself if he died without knowing how big of a space he occupied in her heart. She didn’t know if she was brave enough to tell him to his face while he was awake, but this was a start. Solidifying her feelings was a start. And man, were they solid.

A few minutes later, her phone began to ring because of an endless stream of emails. There was a class today, and she’d have to teach it. She went back and forth from her phone to Spencer’s face and released a deep, heavy sigh from the pit of her chest. She stood from her seat and hovered her hand over his cheek before allowing it to rest timidly on his skin.

“I have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” She paused, chewing on her lip, “I love you.” She said softly, fresh tears making their way back to the brim of her eyes. She pulled away from him and exited the room swiftly. 

Spencer’s bleary eyes opened slightly to just barely catch the sight of her disappearing into the hallway from which she came. Seconds later, Penelope and his mother came marching in, seeing his open eyes.

Penelope set down the cups of jello nearby and Diana made her way to her son quickly. He could barely keep his eyes open for long enough. It was a small achievement but they both held onto it dearly. 

Hours later, he blinked his eyes open again as he heard his mother and Penelope conversing about his favorite type of cloud. Diana leaned over her son’s bed and set a comforting hand on his shoulder. He stared at her fondly.

“Am I alive or is this heaven?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“You are very much alive.” Diana smiled broadly at him.

Garcia had since gone back to the office to assist the team in finally closing the Lynch case. Spencer was just waking up from yet another snooze. 

Diana looked at him closely, sometimes he felt she was the profiler in the room, “She told you didn’t she?”

Spencer rubbed at his eyes slightly, “Who are you talking about?” He yawned.

“The pretty girl who was in here earlier.” Y/N’s name had slipped her mind the second she said it. Spencer stared at his mother incredulously, shocked at just how clear her mind was at the moment. Diana took his silence as an affirmative and nodded at him.

“You should tell her.” She said definitively. For a moment, he doubted if he understood just what she meant, but he understood.

“How did you know?” Spencer asked curiously.

“I told you, a mother always knows. And I saw the way she looked at you. She deserves to know, Spencer.” Diana said.

She deserves to know.

The thought tumbled around in his head for days after he was discharged from the hospital. He was on medical leave for the moment but as soon as he could see straight, he took the train to her apartment. He’d been there a few times, they’d had a few casual dinners there while grading papers together or coming up with future lesson plans. His hands were on the verge of trembling as he knocked on her apartment door. The numbers nailed on the door mocked him as he stood waiting for her to open.

She frowned at the sound, she wasn’t expecting anybody. She pushed her laptop to the side and stood to straighten her pajamas, making her way to the door. She ripped it open as soon as she saw who it was.

“Spencer! Oh thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been worried sick about you.” She threw her arms around his middle tightly, making him stagger a bit from the impact, but he enveloped her in his arms anyway. The contact was very welcome.

“Hey.” He smiled into the hug, his heart spilling with gratitude over being worthy enough of her attention. They separated from the embrace and she stared at him with a look resembling wonder.

“What are you doing here? I thought you still had a few more days off until you had to get back to work. Come in, come in.” She moved aside to let him in. She also moved a plethora of blankets and textbooks off the couch to make space for him to sit.

“I know, I’m sorry for kind of coming over unannounced. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” He eyed her matching set of cartoon character pajamas as he took a seat, making a mental note that it was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. She blushed under his gaze but shook her head nonetheless.

“Oh come on, you know you’re always welcome here. Can I get you something to drink? Some water or coffee, maybe?” She asked.

“Water’s fine.” He smiled, leaning back into the couch. She nodded and made her way into the kitchen. Spencer’s shoulders untensed for a moment and he hadn’t realized that he’d been carrying so much of his worries in them around her. She came back with the water and took a seat next to him, angling her body to face him. He muttered a thank you as he sipped from it, unsure how to approach the situation.

“I wanted to thank you. For coming to the hospital to see me. That meant a lot.” He met her eyes and saw a flash of panic dance across her irises. How did he know she was there? Penelope probably told him, right? He couldn’t have heard her.

“Of course, Spencer. It’s the least I could do.” She smiled sweetly. His heart cleaved in his chest as he stared at the sweet girl in front of him. 

What did he ever do to deserve her friendship? 

He fidgeted with the glass in his hands, a silence beginning to drape over them.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, noticing his fidgeting. 

He took a deep breath and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of them. He turned his body to face her and reached for her soft hands. Her breath hitched at the intimate contact, butterflies erupting in the pit of her abdomen.

“You are a remarkable person, Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I see the absolute worst that humanity has to offer on a daily basis, but you have made it your mission to make my life easier. And you do, honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He said with soft eyes and a half-laugh. She smiled back, she could practically feel the rush from his words directly in her brain.

“And it is an honor to be loved by you,” his voice hesitated to say the word, his eyes darkening with regret as he continued. Realization snapped into place for her as he said, “but I can’t give you what you need.”

He had heard her. He knew.

Her blood ran cold as she tore her hands away from his, as if the skin on his hands had the ability to burn her. He frowned as he watched her frantic eyes search his for any semblance of dishonesty. Her throat closed up over all the words that fought to surface. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came up. Instead, tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

“What?” She whispered, brokenhearted and momentarily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He tried to console her but she was past the point of consolation. 

“I-I understand.” She nodded painfully, tears cascading down her face before she even got the chance to wipe them away, “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s completely unprofessional.” She swallowed an incoming sob as best as she could.

“No, I’m glad you told me, but if I’m being honest, I knew long before it. This isn’t about professionality, I don’t care about that. But I care about you, a lot.” Spencer said softly, staring at the young woman in front of him. She shook her head, utterly devastated and doing her best to shield herself from his gaze. Thoughts escaped her as her heart took a deep-dive to settle in her abdomen.

“And I thought I should let you know how I feel. I love you, Y/N,” he paused, “just not in that way.” The soft voice he used was completely useless against the harshness of the words. 

She tried, she tried her absolute hardest to suppress the incoming sob, but those words just about broke the dam. She rubbed at her eyes, nodding. He tried to set a comforting hand on her shoulder but decided against it. She took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. 

That was enough humiliation for the day.

“No, no, I completely understand.” She said, voice wobbly and eyes ringed with red. He frowned up at her at the sight of her being so upset. 

“Will you be okay?” He asked as he stood up from his seat. She laughed slightly, this man had devastated her, broken her heart with a few simple words and still wondered if she’d be okay. That’s Spencer Reid for you. The question made her heart ache and long for him more. His simplicity and good intentions made her question why the world wasn’t kind enough to let her have him.

“No, I won’t. And I probably won’t be okay for a long time. Because I will keep meeting men and keep comparing them to you so, until I stop doing that, no, I won’t be okay, Spencer.” She answered with a surprisingly stable voice. He frowned and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stepping forward to cup her cheek and gently use his thumb to wipe the remainder of her tears. Her glassy eyes bored right into his, her lips wobbling at the contact. She then closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into his palm, soaking in his warmth one last time before he tore himself away from her completely and showed himself out of the apartment without looking back.

That was when she allowed herself to fall apart. He heard her heart wrenching cries from behind the door and hesitated, but decided to walk away anyway with a chest heavy with regret.

She will never be enough for him, she thought.

He will never be enough for her, he thought.

[writingwife-83]

Hello!! I saw your post regarding sending dialogue prompts if we come up with it, so here's one :)

"I love you but we can't keep going like this."

Can you please write a Sherlolly fic for this one? I absolutely love your writing and look forward to your Sherlolly fics all the time! Cheers ;)

Hi, anon! I hope this one isn’t too much of a stretch, but this is just what came to my mind when I thought about the prompt. I tried to squeeze it all into a one shot and it started to come out weird, so I abandoned that plan. Hopefully I’ll be posting part 2 soon! Anyway, hope you and everyone else enjoy this bit of Regency AU angst and romance! 🎀

We Can’t Keep Going Like This

“Shall we dance the next set as well?” Sherlock asked as they exited the dance floor, Molly on his arm.

She shook her head, giving him a tight smile. “Thank you, no. In fact, I would much prefer some fresh air.”

Molly had been especially quiet all night, and she seemed flushed and jittery. Something was on her mind and it was only a matter of time until it came out. He could only assume their impending wedding was weighing heavily on her.

They stepped out into the late summer air which was just beginning to feel a touch cool. It was clearly a welcomed change from the stuffy confined of the ballroom as Molly shut her eyes and breathed in deep.

“Dreadfully crowded,” Sherlock commented, leaning against one of the columns of the vine shrouded veranda. “The Watson’s always seem to insist on inviting absolutely every family in the entire countryside. I hardly see the appeal. The noise and heat put quite a damper on the pleasant time that might be had enjoying music and dancing. I myself would never choose to-“

“Mr. Holmes, I shall be going away soon.”

Sherlock halted, his gaze shifting to her as he tilted his head in confusion. “Going away where?”

Molly fiddled with her hands, pacing a bit in the moonlight. “I have a great aunt in Scotland. I’ve written to her and asked if I might come and stay for a while, and just today I received her reply that she’d be happy to have me. I plan to depart in another day or two if I’m able.”

“But with merely a fortnight before our wedding?” Sherlock questioned with a little laugh. “You would scarce arrive and unpack before you’d have to return. It hardly seems worth the effort.”

“That’s just it, Mr. Holmes,” she replied quietly. “There will not be a wedding.”

He stared at her in silence for a moment, absorbing her words as best he could.

“But it has all been…arranged,” he argued, the words sounding weak, even to him.

“And it never should have been arranged in the first place.” Molly’s voice became firmer and she stopped pacing, turning to him and regarding him seriously. “I love you, but we can’t keep going like this.”

I love you.

She hadn’t said those words since…well, since that fateful day a couple of months before.

“I know there was hardly anything else for your family to do after what happened with your sister,” Molly went on.

Yes, she did rather force everybody’s hand, Sherlock thought. A crowded London ball was an inconvenient time for Eurus to go completely mad, especially since the incident included threatening Molly Hooper’s life and insisting that she and Sherlock confess their love for each other as the only way to keep her safe. It was a chaotic and heart stopping moment that he, and likely everyone else in attendance, wouldn’t soon forget. Once things were handled with his sister and the dust had settled, it went without saying that some days later an engagement simply had to be announced.

“But regardless, I cannot allow this marriage to take place.” Molly shook her head, resuming her pacing. “It is happening for all the wrong reasons but I know that neither you nor your family would ever put a stop to it, which is of course a credit to you all! So I find that I am the only one who can do what must be done. I can make a home in Scotland with my aunt, where nobody knows me. A broken engagement will be left far behind, and I can do my best to start fresh…just as you will be free to do.”

Words failed Sherlock. Not only had this completely taken him by surprise, but it also felt so very wrong.

“Forgive me, but that is quite an upheaval to pick up and move your life so far away. You needn’t make such a decision so hastily,” he finally voiced.

Molly’s lip quivered when she spoke again. “Mr Holmes, I have wrestled with myself and considered all possible options since the very moment our engagement was announced! There is nothing hasty about this decision. Surely you can see this is the most logical option.”

It was at that moment that Sherlock realized he hadn’t considered any other options. Since they’d become engaged, he’d simply accepted the fact and carried on.

“For whom is this the logical option?” Sherlock found himself questioning, stepping closer and eyeing her curiously. “Forgive me, but only a moment ago you stated that you love me, and this time it was under no duress. And yet you plan to uproot your life and flee from our impending marriage. Why?”

Molly tilted her chin in the air, squaring her shoulders as she spoke coolly. “I take no pleasure in a union that is rooted in little more than obligation and pity.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “Obligation and pity? But you are my friend, Miss Hooper. We are friends, are we not?”

“I did like to think so, yes.” She smiled softly, then hesitated, blushing a little. “But, Mr. Holmes, before all of this, tell me truthfully…had you ever thought to propose?”

Air caught in his throat and he had to swallow thickly, knowing full well that a lack of response would be just as clear to her as any spoken word.

Molly’s lips twisted and she looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I shall leave a note,” she explained, a little hitch in her voice. “I will explain that I am sorry for any hurt I may cause but that I simply have no wish to marry. That will surely free you from any guilt in the matter.”

She moved to leave but Sherlock caught her wrist, causing her to whirl back and face him, eyes wide in surprise.

“And that is to be the end of it?” Sherlock asked, his voice half desperation and half confusion as his thumb moved unconsciously over the silk of her glove. “You’d truly leave England?”

“Can you not see this is for the best?” Molly whispered, a sheen reflecting in her eyes. “I beg you not to make this any harder than it already is.”

And with that, her hand slipped from his and she hurried back inside the ballroom. Sherlock watched her as she made her way through the crowds, his feet frozen in place even as he felt the urge to rush after her.

He stayed outside, replaying the words they’d just exchanged over and over, and he realized that he was about to lose Molly Hooper. The reality of it was a revelation that rivaled even his public declaration of love.

A declaration which, now more than ever, he was very sure he meant.

[twistedmusings]

For your 600 follower special if the prompts aren’t full yet. A G/N reader with Malleus and number #18 from the Yankees prompt please! 18. “This’ll make us closer, I promise. Just hold still.”

P.S I love your writing and how you write the different characters!

A/N: You know what the writer loves about the concept of Yandere Malleus? That his darling would have no way out of it. If he decides that he wants his darling to come with him to the Valley of Thorns, all he has to do is just ‘convince’ you. Also don’t tell me that he doesn’t think that the Once Upon a Dream song is about his darling and him. He would be that cliche. 

Warnings: You pricking your finger on a spindel while Malleus gives you the gentlest of pushes into spending the rest of your life with him. 

Malleus Draconia 

Malleus was sure he had dreamed about you. 

While not exactly you, he had dreamed about someone like you. 

Back when he was little, he put his hand together and hoped as hardest as he could for someone like you. Someone who wouldn’t look at his status but would reach out for him. He would take your hand and smile as you led him away from the pedestal others had put him on. You would teach him about friendship, closeness and soon enough it would be like you were by his side all along. 

And your eyes would stay only on him as he made sure to keep you close. 

A friend he dared to hope for. 

So when you gave him that nickname, when you agreed to walk with him or when you had finally invited him to his first ever event in the school, Malleus knew that what he had dreamed for had finally come true. 

This is why he let his feelings grow past those of friendship. Like the very thorns that were named after his valley, the feelings that you pulled out of him wrapped around his heart and bled him dry every time you smiled in a way he was sure only was reserved for him. And yet he was grateful for this pain, for this longing, because it meant that his feelings for you were far stronger than he previously imagined. 

Perhaps that was what love was, something that made you weaker. 

Weaker or not, he was still thankful to get to experience love with the person he walked with in his dreams. 

So why is it that now it hurts far too much? 

Malleus understood that you had friends in various dorms, he understood that you were not bound to him in any sort of way and that you were free to do whatever you liked…yet you still should not have ignored the connection that you and the dragon fae shared. 

All because of a human who happened to be the same as you. 

He had stumbled out of the mirror, both of you staring into each other’s eyes as Malleus saw recognition light up in yours first before the other followed soon after. His words of concern were ignored as you rushed out to meet this stranger, enveloping him in a hug as he buried his face in your shoulder and nearly picked you up from the floor. 

All actions Malleus had secretly imagined him doing for you, in the privacy of his own bedroom. 

It had all happened so fast he barely had a chance to react to all of the changes. The stranger had moved into your dorm, walked with you to class and even dared to intrude in the walks that you two shared late at night with the pretense of you inviting him to tag along. These walks were precious to Malleus, surely you must see that these walks were the only way he got you all to himself. They were special! 

You also thought of them as special...right? 

Yes. Yes you did. Of course you did. It was the interloper’s fault. With his intrusion, he was taking away your attention from your dear dear friend. The person who cared about you the most. You just...you couldn’t see it. Malleus was still so painfully new to these feelings that he simply decided to hold your hand as you took the lead. 

But he knew it was time for him to make some adjustments. 

“Malleus!” 

He smiles as he hears you call out his name, the spool in his hand being spun slowly on a spinning wheel as he hummed a song his grandmother used to hum a long time ago. 

“Malleus! Lilia said you’d be down--woah.” 

Even now your surprise was endearing, Malleus turning around as he put the last finishing touches on the spool before plucking it off the spindle and looking back at you. 

“Child of man.” 

The wonder in your eyes died down as you remained rooted to your spot. Your body could sense the danger yet your eyes remained on his as he held out his hand to you. 

“Come.” 

See? You were walking to him now. 

Your fingertips touched and Malleus could practically sense how your body was begging you to run. But you didn’t have to doubt him, he was the one who loved you the most after all. You look down at the spinning wheel in front of you, the last of its kind in his kingdom. It was almost a relic in its right with the history that was behind it. He watched you blink a couple of times before turning to him, a tired smile on your face as if being in its mere presence tired you out. 

“You shouldn’t be hanging out here all alone.” you smile when he interlocks his fingers with yours, “We are celebrating you up there...you’re a 4th year after all.” 

“I’ll be leaving for the Valley soon enough. Grandmother is eager to get me on the throne.” he says as he presses your hand to his chest, “Do you think I’ll make a good ruler?” 

“Of course. You’re Malleus. Anything you do it’ll be amazing.” 

He has to quiet his brain down, every single one of his thoughts yelling at him to do it now, do it now, if he didn’t know surely you would slip away--! 

“Will you miss me?” 

Your expression softens as you turn to face him, nodding slowly as you look at your interlocked hands. 

“I will. Always. But I can’t help but be proud of what you are going to become.” you shrug, “And besides, now that I got Yuuken, Ramshackle doesn’t feel as lonely anymore. He’s really been a blessing.” 

Malleus has to keep himself from pulling your hand towards the spindle and pricking your finger on it. You had to do it yourself, out of your own volition. 

You had to choose him. 

“...will you do me a favor, child of man?” 

He keeps a tight hold on your hand as you nod, a yawn escaping your lips as he starts to guide it towards the spindle. 

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes meet his as he whispers a couple of words, a bright green sheen glossing over your eyes as your muscles begin to relax and you begin to lose control of your body. 

“I wanted to be the closest person to you. Yet I see that as I am now I cannot achieve that.” 

Malleus leans closer to you as your hand rests on the spinning wheel, his other hand taking your chin and tilting it upwards so your focus would stay solely on him. 

“I must think as a ruler. Someone who does not sway with his decisions.” 

You try to speak but the pair of lips on yours take the very words out of your mouth, your eyes closing out of sheer exhaustion instead of passion. It was soft, tender, yet it held promises of so much more...not caring if you were ready for them or not. 

“So before I leave...I want you to be the closest person to me.” he smiles, “This...This will make us closer, I promise…” 

“Malleus--?” 

“Just hold still.” 

He takes your ring finger and presses it lightly on the tip of the spindle, just a tiny prick that bled  out a small droplet of blood from your finger. Malleus immediately catches your body just as it was about to fall down, his arms looping around your legs and picking you up in a way he had seen princes do to their loved ones. 

You were fast asleep. 

Malleus smiled as he kissed the top of your head, heading out of his room in order to tell Lilia to prepare a comfortable seat in the chariot on his way back home. 

He wanted you to wake up to the best view of the Valley of Thorns. 

[xmint-conditionx]

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch1 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 4.5k ❦ summary: you recall the first night that you began to love your emperor more than your job required. you find yourself in a dangerous situation that surely means death if mistakes are made. being careful is your first priority, but it’s easy to forget where and who you are when you lock eyes with him. ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, the tiniest bit of fluff you ever saw, brief blood/gore descriptions, derogatory names but not in the way you think, fingering, slight begging, slight nibbling, “be quiet or people could hear” trope, a little adorable aftercare yoongi is here uwu ❦ a/n: guys get fuckin PUMPED okay. i am so so so excited to bring you this crazy story. as far as i have planned, there are 15 chapters. this has (kind of obviously) been in the works since daechwita dropped, so i’m sure you won’t have any trouble picturing our lovely king. this is a complete fantasy setting, so please do know that i am not trying to emulate any particular culture or time period. 

also, please note that this is a repost of my work from a previous blog, so if it looks familiar to you, that’s probably why lmao

anyway, thanks luv, enjoy!

- minty

Blood stains your blade, glistening bright crimson in the hot sun. You’re surrounded by anguish, pain, the sounds of final breaths and final cries. The dead soldier that lies on the dirty brick in front of you, who had been alive and trying to claim your life only moments before is staring lifelessly into the middle distance. You fight the urge to close his eyes; you two could have been friends, after all. You probably have even crossed paths before. A shudder runs through you at the thought. How many of these men that will meet their end at your sword will you have known? How many of your people will have to die? Are they still even your people? You don’t want to know the answer to these questions.

What had he called you? What had he said before his sword clashed with yours?

That’s right.

“Whore.”

You never anticipated being in this situation. You had never wanted to have to fight; you only had wanted to look as beautiful as he had wielding a sword. Fighting was always something that was necessary for your people, but it was never something you would have to be doing yourself. You’d heard palace guards talking about some distant battle and thought it might be a fun adventure-- going off to war. You were wrong. You were naive. About a lot of things, it turns out.

That was a different time, when your only adventure came in the form of a secret romance. When the riskiest thing you did was love an emperor. Your emperor. Your Yoongi.

Where is he?

You look back to where you had last seen him on the battlefield. His long blonde hair shines like gold in the midday sun, only rivaling the sheen of his trusted blade. He cuts down his opponent with a decisive swing, the sick squelching sound of innards falling onto the hot stone as the man cries out. You watch as he expertly scans his surroundings, looking for anyone else that would dare challenge his skill in the chaos. He’s missing an earring, you realize. Both of you are heaving under the stress of battle. This is more than you’d ever prepared for. You don’t know if you’ll make it. 

Your hesitant eyes meet his assured ones, and for an instant, sword in hand, it’s like the first night you’d snuck up to meet him in his chambers.

The dark wooden floorboards of the upper palace creaks, and you scold yourself for not being more quiet. Being caught will at the least result in a very long and extensive round of questioning by the royal guard. Trouble is the last thing you want to stir up. 

Emperor Min had specifically requested you come to his private room in secret tonight, and that is a little strange to you. He has the power to have any of his women whenever he wishes, and he has asked for you to come to him under the cloak of night. Why must this time be a secret? He has had you many times before, so why must this time be hidden?

In his handwritten note that he had slipped to you earlier in the day, he instructs for you to wait until all the other concubines are asleep before you leave your wing. If you are careful, you can take a shortcut through the North Wing Tearoom and pass the guards who only patrol the center hallway. So that’s what you do. 

You see that they’re far enough down the corridor that they won’t be able to detect your movements, and so you silently slip through the large ornate wooden doors. You’ve been in this room many times before, but it feels like your first time here. Everything looks so different without the familiar warm glow of lantern light. The moon’s shadows are cold and sharply cast, and a chill runs up your spine. You don’t have to even look to feel his presence. To feel his eyes on you.

He’s waiting for you, sitting at the bottom edge of his large, low bed, chin perched delicately on his folded hands. The cool metal of his many rings shine in the moonlight, and past those adorned hands, he is staring right at you. His stare is one that is unreadable to most. Nobody is ever really able to know what is going on in his head. Nobody could ever know what emotion lies behind the stare. You wonder how much time he spends in thought. 

“Come,” he says, motioning in his direction.

You obey your king, stepping forward a few paces. Something on his bed catches and glints in the moonlight. A sword? You stop, only halfway to him. You could already be in trouble. If he had heard your conversation with another concubine a few days ago, heavy questioning by the easily fooled palace guards will be the least of your worries. They won’t ask questions before they kill you.

“Your Majesty,” you say to the ground, too demure to look him in the eye as you speak, fearing what he might say and do, “why have you invited me here like this?”

Emperor Min stands and almost silently completes the distance over to where you stand. His calloused palm gently grazes your jaw, thumb on your cheekbone as his fingers wind through your hair. His touch calms your racing heart, and fills your belly with strength and boldness. You finally find the courage to look up.

“I have a surprise for you, my dove,” the emperor says, and you think you see a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes. 

He quickly spins around and guides you over to where he had been sitting moments before. He picks up the hilt of the sword that was laying next to him and places it delicately into your palm, enclosing his hand around yours. You had expected him to pick up the sword, but to put it in your hands? Impossible.

“I heard you say you wanted to learn to sword fight,” he says, smiling gently down at you.

Your mouth drops; your worst fear has been realized. He had heard your hushed conversation. Surely, you were about to die. Maybe if you groveled and flattered him enough, he would spare you.

“Your Grace, it was only a passing comment. I was only in awe of how skillfully you were practicing out in the gardens. I did not mean for anyone to hear; I was simply awe-struck by your deftness. I do not truly wish to learn. It was a foolish slip of the tongue. Please, forgive me.”

Please, don’t kill me.

“My dear, are you worried about your life?” he asks.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I am,” you say, looking to the floor again. Hoping to pull out any sympathy he may have.

“I do not want you to lose your life. I want you to learn how to properly wield a sword,” he says so quietly it’s almost silent-- as if he’s afraid to even say it himself, “if that is what you want. And I would like to be the one to teach you.”

Women aren’t supposed to learn anything related to warfare, especially not something as dangerous as sword fighting. A single mistake could mean the loss of a limb, but being discovered in practice could mean the loss of a life. Even teaching was punishable by death, although you’re sure the Emperor himself would be able to keep his life intact if discovered. If anyone else had heard your words to another concubine, even if you were able to convince them it was an innocent mistake, you would likely be thrown out of the palace immediately. 

Concubines don’t snitch on the little things, but if any of them had reported you sneaking out tonight, your head would surely be on the chopping block first thing in the morning. You’re all allowed so much. You live in luxury, you’re able to roam most of the palace grounds as you please, you’re dressed in some of the finest fabrics, given plenty to eat, gifted spending money, and on top of it all, you get to lay with the king. Anyone fortunate enough to be chosen for this position doesn’t do anything to risk it. 

The emperor must sense your unease, because he puts his hand on your shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says quietly. 

What has to be hours later, you flop down on his bed; your labored breaths are the only thing that can be heard in the broad expanse of his room. You haven’t even crossed blades with him, and you’re exhausted. He only taught you how to hold it properly, how to angle a strike, and how to move, but your body pounds with soreness. Your arms and your legs are heavy with fatigue, and the cool plush comforter is a welcome sensation to your aching body. As you lay, you look up to the ornate ceiling trimmed with gold and you begin to settle your breathing. You lay the sword down between you and the side of the bed; at the beginning of your lesson it felt light as a feather, but as you were instructed to keep it up, it now feels as if it were made of lead. 

He delicately sits down by your side, barely disturbing the fabric; you lock eyes with him and have to hold back a laugh. For some reason, you feel silly. You have never truly imagined that you would be in this place or situation. A woman? Sword fighting? Not just a woman, but a concubine? And with the king himself? If you had been told as a young girl that this would happen, you’d laugh so hard that you’d wet yourself. It was simply impossible! Or so you had thought. 

You and many other concubines had watched Emperor Min practice his sword fighting out in the royal gardens countless times, and all of you were consumed with the grace and proficiency he could demonstrate. You were the only one, however, who ever wanted to be down there with him, taking part in the mysterious dance he was so fond of. You were the only one who had dared to speak your hidden desires, and it seems that you lucked out. You certainly served a gracious emperor.

His eyes turn into crescent moons as he beams down at you, showing off his gummy smile. You wonder why he rarely displays it; he’s always so serious when he’s in the public eye. The only other time you’ve seen as much as a smirk is when he bests his opponents in practice, his pretty lips curling into a snarl as he holds them at the point of his blade. You’ve only seen him smile when doing what he loves.

The way you look lying on his sheets, your heaving chest covered in little more than your underclothing and moonlight. Your hair spilling out in shining pools around your delicate face, which is flushed from exertion. The way you look up at him with pure bliss in your eyes. Perhaps he smiles because he likes what he sees, He licks his lips as he lets his hand wander across your decollete, which has collected a thin layer of sweat. 

“I hope you haven’t tired yourself out completely,” he says, leaning in closer to you, so close that you can smell his naturally musky scent, “You’re a quick learner. You are quite good with your hands, my dear.” You flush further at his words, deep with insinuation. You would be lying if you weren’t thinking of other activities you could be doing with him, too.

“I am good at a lot of things, My King,” you return, tone laced with venom as you look up at him through heavy lashes. The chemistry between you both had always been electric. What one would put down, the other would pick up. Flirty banter was as easy for you two as  breathing. Innate. Inherent. Natural. As if you were born to do it.

His hand travels down your chest and curls around your waist, giving your lax form a gentle tug upwards, so that your lips can meet his. He had only begun to kiss you recently, and as far as you can tell from the stories from the other concubines, you were the only one. You aren’t sure exactly what that means, but you also aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or question why you’re the only one who gets to kiss the Emperor. The way he kisses you is nearly indescribable. He always starts off delicately, as if to test the waters, or as if to tease you. You haven’t decided which one it is yet, so you relish in how his lips play with yours. But you want more.

You push yourself upwards and deepen the kiss, and he responds in kind, sucking in your bottom lip to coax you into opening up for him. He has never been pushy; he has never pressured you - or any other that you knew of - into doing something you didn’t want. He has always been respectful of you and the others, which is the last thing you had expected. After all, you are just a glorified whore. And he is a king.

You part your lips and allow his tongue to dance with yours, each silently fighting for dominance. You let him win, and he takes the opportunity to climb over your frame. Noticing the sword by your side, he tosses it onto the floor. It hits the rug with a soft thud, as it has done many times that night when you had dropped it. He continues to deepen the kiss, and you can feel yourself beginning to get damp. Feeling that familiar tingling sensation run up your spine, you feel the need to reach under his silk robe and run your hands up his chest, which sends him moaning into you. He involuntarily pushes his hips against you, and you can feel how hard he is behind his night robe. It’s not like him to take his time, like this. Usually, he would have already put you in his desired position and… well, gotten on with it already. He might need some inspiration. You break the kiss by tilting your head up, and he begins kissing down your exposed neck, and fuck does that feel good. 

“Your Majesty,” you whine, fist full of his soft blonde hair, “How would you like me tonight?”

He speaks in between kisses.

“What… ever could you… mean?” he says warmly against your neck.

“Would you like me on my stomach tonight? I know you’re fond of the view,” you say, playfully wiggling your hips. He pauses for a beat, and pulls back to look at you. He chuckles a little.

“I’m quite fond of this view, too,” he says, showing off his gummy smile again and leaning in to cup your breasts as he trails kisses down into your cleavage. He begins to nibble softly at your flesh as he pulls the fabric down, exposing your nipples to the night. He pinches one roughly, making you pull on his hair a little harder, both of you having to stifle a moan. How dangerous to be doing this at the risk of guards hearing! His hand wanders down your frame and then up into your underskirts, cupping your heat gently as you open your legs for him. 

His fingers graze against your clit, and you feel the cool metal of his rings slide against your damp folds as he teases your entrance. You bite your lip and hold back a moan. You wish you could just tell him to hurry. 

As if answering a prayer, he slides his finger into your waiting slit, coaxing more of your wetness out of you. He adds another finger, curling them up gently and pushing up against that spongy spot that drives you wild. You buck up your hips in response, and you feel him smirk into your chest. He continues to gently bite around your areolas, never quite reaching your peaks as he sets an agonizingly slow pace with his fingers. The sensations that spark through your body at his ministrations are dizzying, but they’re also incredibly frustrating. He’s keeping you just on the edge of satisfaction. What does he want you to do? Beg? You’ve never felt like you could do such a thing, but this evening has made you bold. And his touch has turned you needy.

“Your Grace, pl-please,” you plead quietly into the night.

He looks up to your face scrunched in desperation. “Oh, are you suggesting your king hurry?” he asks with a smirk, “What if he wishes to take his time?”

“Hi-His Highness may have me any way he wishes, of course,” you reply, biting the inside of your cheek to distract you from the torture, “But are the tales of your generosity false? Are you a merciless ruler, set to torture those who would only want to bring you pleasure?”

His eyes on you darken, and he pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek. 

“Hm,” he considers, “I suppose I can afford to be kind tonight. After all, you’ve worked so hard already, haven’t you?”

He wastes no time in pulling his fingers out, and you clench at the loss, another groan almost leaving your lips before you’re able to swallow it. He lines his head up with your aching slit, using your wetness to coat his cock. The delicious friction against your clit makes you whine ever so gently into the space between you both, another small beg for him to fill you. He presses into you, the familiar stretch making you dizzy with lust, and buries himself in your neck once more. He quickly sets a brisk pace knowing that you both are eager, and it’s not long until you can hear how wet he makes you. The obscene wet slaps sound like bombs going off in the quiet, and your cunt drips with your slick. You briefly wonder who is the unfortunate servant who will have to clean these bed linens, because you always leave them completely ruined. The way he fucks into you makes you fall apart every time, fitting together like a lock and key.

The king’s lips find yours again, his kisses hungry and wild. You remove your hands from his hair that’s now cascading around you, falling in golden waves onto your shoulders. He’s more ferocious now, biting your bottom lip and then nibbling up your jaw where he sucks your bejeweled lobe between his lips. His hands grasp tightly around your jaw as you take him, every thrust making you more putty in his hands. His free hand curves around and cups your ass, hoisting you up and changing the angle of your hips. With every thrust, his tip grazes against your sweet spot, causing a loud moan to escape your lips, echoing in the large space. Your moan dies as soon as you register it; you shamefully tighten your mouth so that no more noise may escape, but it’s too late. You’ve already been too loud. He looks back towards his bedroom doors, and then back to you. 

Something in his expression changes, and his eyes are churning with something devilish. He swiftly covers your mouth with his palm, making sure it’s firmly fastened there before speaking. 

“Scream for me, little dove.”

You try to hold back as best as you can, but a particularly hard thrust breaks your resolve. Once you let out that little yelp, it opens the floodgates. Your voice is muffled by his hand as he fucks into you harder and harder, almost painfully. His tip is pounding against your cervix, and dark spots flash in your vision. You continue to lose yourself in him, eagerly meeting his thrusts with ones of your own. His other hand that was once cupping your ass, now finds your wrist and hoists it above your head, as he continues his unrelenting pace. You scream into his hand, and clench around him to bring you right up to the edge. 

He leans down to your freshly-nibbled ear, and in a gravelly voice says, “Come. Come around my cock.”

As soon as his hand lets go of your wrist and makes contact with your sensitive clit, you come undone. You scream completely unhinged into his palm which is placed firmly over your mouth, and he too groans as he finishes inside of you, riding through both orgasms until you’re both exhausted. And you thought you were tired before. His heavy breaths meet yours, and you float back down from your high to find yourself resting on his comforter. He gives your jaw a final nibble, and hoists himself off of you.

You hear his soft footsteps padding on the floor as you look up at the ceiling again. The beautiful gold trim you had noted before is a large dragon, spiraled around an inset in the ceiling. He brings back a damp cloth for you to clean yourself with, and he gathers your night clothes from the floor where you had discarded them some time ago. Sword fighting in a dress is not easy, and besides, you look much better in your undergarments. He starts putting your sleepwear back on you, gingerly helping your arms through the holes. He doesn’t have to be doing this. He has never helped you get dressed before; that was a task left to each woman on their own. They had a separate and luxurious bath suite dedicated to their self-care, so why would he bother?. Sometimes the concubine mother would help if things got… interesting, but you scarcely needed help with this. Tonight was surely a night of firsts.

“Uh, thank you, Your Majesty. You didn’t have to help me dress after you finish,” you say, a little flushed from how delicately he treats you after how thoroughly he had just fucked you. 

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says, hoisting you up off the bed and leading you towards his doors, “We can’t have you cleaning yourself in your wing’s washroom. You’d probably be dripping all the way back. We can’t have that now, can we?” he asks as he runs his hand down your arm, smirking lightly and raising his eyebrows, “Especially if you’d like to have another lesson.”

You gasp.

“Another? Your Highness, are you certain? Why do you risk getting caught doing this for me?” you ask, not concerned with your own safety, but of his. Even if his life isn’t at risk, the public humiliation that would surround him would be too great. Especially not now. Not in the middle of a war. The subjects of the kingdom are already on edge as it is. The trust in their Emperor cannot falter. Not now.

“Ah, come now. Don’t worry. As long as you stay light on your feet and I ensure that the worst guards in the command are at my post, we are as safe as my blade is sharp. Plus,” he adds, kissing gently against your fingers,  “getting to see your beautiful skin glisten with sweat, and then getting to have you all to myself is reward enough for me. It’s definitely worth the risk.” 

“My King, you can always have me all to yourself in whatever way you desire,” you say, “There’s no limit to what I can do for you. You know that.”

“Yes, dove,” he says, “I do know that, but there is one thing your king is not allowed. Something that nobody may know of. Your king is not allowed a favorite.”

You know this already. It is why the concubines exist, why you’re able to be here with him at all. You know that it is dangerous to have a favorite. Emperors in your kingdom are unable to wed, and it has always been that way. Spouses are a vulnerability, something an enemy can easily exploit. The concubines exist, like the guard, to protect the emperor in their own way. By allowing him freedom of sexual expression, he is less likely to feel the need to have a romantic partner. Having a person be treasured by the emperor only makes them a weakness. Especially now.

“Nobody can know that you are important to me. Nobody can know that it is you who holds the king’s favor; that is why we must meet mostly in secret going in forward. You’ll be removed from the palace if the officials get a notion of my fondness for you,” he says, holding both of your hands in his, “and I never want you to be missing from me, my dove.” 

You understand. You have to. It’s part of the job. You knew all of this going in and you were okay knowing that you would be one of many. You didn’t come to the palace with only the clothes on your back to find a chance at love. You’re smarter than that. You’d be lying if you said being treasured by the king didn’t light a small fire inside of you, though.

You nod and give his beautiful, calloused hands a squeeze. 

“I cannot keep you any longer,” he whispers, “you deserve your beauty sleep, especially after all the… exertion you’ve just done. You think you can keep quiet on your way back?”

“I think I can manage, but,” you say, “if I may be so bold, next time, I don’t want to be able to sneak back to my room. I don’t want to be able to even walk after the next time you’re done with me.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he says, hiding a soft smile, “but even then, I would welcome it if it came from you.” 

You think of the risk you’re both taking, and the consequences of being found out.

“Let's hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah?” you delicately ask, eyes asking a question you’re afraid to give voice to.

“My dove,” he says, “as long as I can help it, no harm will ever come to you. Now, get on to bed.”

You didn’t want to leave, but you know you needed to. The emperor opens the door a crack and nods at you, a silent confirmation that the guards were at the other end of the hall. A silent nod that said it was time. 

You ease yourself through the small crack in the door and slowly pad toward your Northern Tearoom shortcut. You look back once more, and you see him mouth “goodnight” with a smirk before shutting the door.

Your return trip to your wing of the palace is much quieter than your first trip, and for that you are thankful. You sneak back into your room where the rest of the concubines lie fast asleep in their own beds, some of them quietly snoring. As you curl up into your bedsheets, you drift asleep thinking about how sweet his smile is. He never shows it to anyone, so why are you the one who gets to see it? After all, you’re just a whore. The emperor’s favorite whore.

[untaemedqueen]

When It Rains, It Pours (M)

Roommate!Namjoon x Reader

WordCount: 4.6k

Genre: PWP, Smut, Fluff, Roommates to Lovers!

Warnings: Soft Dom!Namjoon, Dirty Talk, Begging, Praise, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Joon Tiddie Worship (You Just Gotta), Huge Cock!Namjoon, Face Fucking, Spanking, Cum Swallowing, Unprotected Sex, Choking, Possessive!Namjoon, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie

A/N: A really big thanks to my women @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​ for hyping me up as per usual and reading through it! The loves of my life! I hope you guys enjoy it! 

Summer showers are usually delightful. There's something incredible about sitting on your balcony with your roommate as you both sip wine and listen to the rain patter against the streets and your apartment building. You love the smell of the rain, the dark overcast that seems to highlight your roommates handsome features. And, above all you love the coziness that sets deep into your bones. 

You should have been home two hours ago, listening to the rain with your braniac of a roommate and yet, you had gotten stuck at work for what felt like the fortieth time just this month. 

You didn’t bring an umbrella to work, expecting to have been home before the rain began to barrage the Earth. 

You didn’t bring a jacket because it was hotter than Hades outside and the humidity was eating you alive. 

So here you are, drenched and disappointed that you missed out on a beautiful evening on the balcony.

Thunder crashes loudly, lightning highlighting the apartment door as it gets kicked open. Namjoon jumps loudly at the noise as the door knob slams into the wall. 

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck!?” he yells, putting his hand over his heart. 

You glower at him as you enter the apartment, hair in tendrils as small droplets of water plop onto the white ground beneath you.

Closing his book, his eyes go wide. You can only grimace grimace, picking up your hair and slinging it over your shoulder unceremoniously. The slap as your hair hits your back is loud and you purse your lips, shaking your soaked bare arms. 

“Oh my God!” Joon mumbles, jumping up and rushing into the hallway to the linen closet. 

You groan gently, throwing your bag onto the floor. The puddle that seems to seep from the sodden fabric makes you give an unamused scoff as Namjoon reappears with towels. 

“You should have called me, idiot! I would have picked you up!” he chides you, putting a towel around your shoulders. 

You hum to him, looking out the window as lighting ricochets through the sky. He bends down to your level, throwing a towel over your head and patting your face dry. 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” you mutter, rolling your eyes when he clicks his teeth. 

His eyes look over your face before looking at your clothes. 

“You’re going to get sick. You have to take these clothes off.” he whispers and you raise an eyebrow at him as he runs the towel down your soaked arms. 

“Are you trying to get me naked?” you quip. 

He chuckles, flicking your forehead. 

“If I wanted to have you naked. I would have already done so years ago.” he retorts as you rub your forehead with a pout. 

With an unattractive snort, you take the towel off of yourself. 

“Lift your arms.” he instructs, grabbing at the soaked hem of your shirt. 

You do as told whining at the cold fabric before meeting eyes with him as he hauls the soaked fabric over your head. He keeps his eyes on you, the soaked tank top slapping to the floor from the heaviness of the rain. He trails his eyes slowly down your face, your breath hitching as you tilt your head.

The lightning highlights his handsome features once more. And the way his tongue swipes over his lips makes you go rigid.

 Fuck, what is wrong with you? 

You’ve lived together for years now. The man before you is your best friend. You've had ideas of such things before but you've worked so hard to keep them at bay. How could you be reacting to him in such a way? 

He unbuttons your jeans, tugging at the waistband, the fabric is so soaked it clings to the globes of your ass. You hiss as he pulls down harshly, your legs coated in a sheen layer of wetness as he bends down. 

“Put your hand on my shoulder and step out.” he orders. 

You shiver, feeling the cool air drift over your body in the dimly lit room.

Stepping out of your pants, Namjoon catches sight of how wet your panties have even gotten, the light grey cotton fabric dark and soaked by the rain. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose, looking at you as he stands tall. 

“If you get sick I’m not staying by your side waiting on you hand and foot like the last time you had the flu.” he says sternly.

You give a lopsided grin to him. He grabs the towel, swiping it over your legs. He can feel your muscles tense and grow terse when he rubs away the rain. 

Your skin is so soft. He's noticed this over the years, but he had never paid too much mind to it (he tried anyway) until now. 

His eyes flit to your panties again, watching your thighs press together out of embarrassment of him being so close. 

"Dry your hair." he tells you, drifting his hands along your calves. 

Gripping the other towel, you squeeze your soaked hair into it. Your gaze averts to the window as you watch the rain patter along the sides of the balcony. 

"I wanted to come home and listen to the rain with you. I didn't know I was going to get stuck at work." you whine quietly, making him chuckle. 

His deep set dimples appear as he looks up at you. 

"We can listen to it tomorrow. It's supposed to rain for a few days." he replies, looking at your lace bra. 

Through the wet black lace, he can see your nipples stiffly peaked and he widens his eyes before looking back down. 

Fuck, your nipples are nice. 

There’s a short silence. He’s drinking you in at this moment, looking over your stomach, the wet sheen highlighting your soft skin. It takes every ounce of his strength to look away. 

"Go take a warm shower. I'll lay your clothes on your bed for you." he whispers, turning around. 

You clear your throat, nodding.

Walking away, his head turns slightly. 

He shouldn't look and yet, he is. 

He watches the globes of your ass jiggle with each step towards the hallway. He can’t help but ogle the way your soaked panties cling to your skin. 

He furrows his eyebrows, pressing his hand to his crotch before sighing loudly. 

"You've made it through so many years already, the fuck is wrong with you?" he chides himself, adjusting his erection as it strains against his basketball shorts.

He lays your pajamas out on your bed, sitting down on the edge. 

His fingers run over your clothes, looking up at the ceiling. 

"Yeah. You're fucked." he hisses to himself, standing tall. 

He sighs gently watching you enter the bedroom, a towel wrapped around your now clean body.

"Feel better?" he asks as you walk towards him. 

"Totally. Thanks so much Joonie." 

He hums at your words, giving you a small, unsure smile that makes his chin dimple sweetly.

You noticed how he looked at your nipples when he was drying you off. You noticed how affected he was by touching your skin. And, it begged the question. Did Kim Namjoon have a thing for you? Like you have for him? 

You've been trying to hide it for so damn long that it seems almost ridiculous after all these years. 

"Let me know if you need anything." he whispers, walking towards the door. 

Well, let’s find out just how much he likes you then.

"Joon." you call to him, gripping the towel. 

He turns his head to you, eyes looking expectantly as he gives a small smile. You open up the towel revealing your body to him and he lets out a small gasp. His eyes shoot straight to yours and you can see his inner battle of where to look. 

"Jesus, Y/N." he sounds breathless, shifting from foot to foot.

"I want you to look." you whisper and he hums unsurely, running his hands over his face.

"Do you? Because you're going to open a can of worms I've been trying to keep hidden for a long time." he breathes, eyes flitting to your nipples. 

"I want you to look." you say surely and he licks his lips before letting out a low whistle.

"What do you think?" you ask, sitting down on the bed. 

He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, walking towards you. "I think you're very sexy." 

The tinge of color to your cheeks makes him all the more eager as he bends down in front of you. 

"Really?" you inquire quietly.

His tongue trails over his lips slowly, watching your nipples harden under his stare. 

"Oh yeah. Really." he whispers, looking up at you.

You lay back before looking up at the ceiling, trying to tame your heart beat as it pounds away in your chest. 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Namjoon quips, running his hands over your thighs.

"Maybe." you reply, earning a chuckle from him. 

He kneels on the bed, fingers digging deeper into the skin of your thighs.

"We can't come back from this, y'know? I fuck you, I keep you. You know how I am." he tells you, fingers kneading at your skin. 

You wriggle at his ministrations, a gentle sigh leaving your lips. He tilts your head to look at him expectantly. 

"Do you hear me?" he inquires.

"Yes, I hear you." you breathe. 

That's all he needs before he is spreading your legs wider. 

"Fuckin' hell." he mumbles, letting his eyes roam over your body.  

"I tried so hard not to think about this. I swear to God. But, fuck, you're gorgeous." he hisses, running his hands run up your sides.

Your breath hitches at his warm hands. His touch is gentle and you find it hard to focus on almost anything other than his handsome face as his brown hair falls into his eyes. 

"Years. It's been years trying to ignore this feeling." 

His head bows down, pressing his lips to yours. 

The kiss is slow, as if Namjoon is calculating every small thing like he normally does. He's always in his own head, always thinking of what to do next. It has always been an admirable trait but right now you just want him to act. Not think.

"Show me how much you want me." you whine as he grips harder at your sides. 

His ragged breathing stirs something inside of you, stomach unfurling with wanting as his lips trail downwards. 

He leaves gentle pink petals on your skin as he suckles the column of your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, gasping his name with gentle sighs. 

His hands cup your breasts, pushing them upwards slightly as the tip of his nose drifts over your pert nipple. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” he whispers. 

The sound of your name spoken like a calm prayer upon his lips has your hips lifting off the bed. His lips part for your areola, sucking them harshly before flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Your hips roll in circles as he situates himself better between your legs. His knees push your legs open wider, an electric current seemingly sweeps through your body as his hands run over your sides. 

“So many times I’ve thought about being in this room. When you bring guys home and let them fuck your tight little cunt. I hear how you moan for those random guys, how you beg for more. Drove me fucking crazy.” 

There he is, the beast let out of his cage. 

This is the Kim Namjoon you were dying to see. 

Grabbing your wrist, his lips trail over the valley of your breasts before showing love to your other breast. He presses your hand snugly to his shorts and your whine is low as you feel his hard cock strain against the fabric. 

“Joonie.” you whimper, gasping when he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingertips. 

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” he whispers as thunder crashes throughout the sky as if Thor is pleased at your encounter.

His fingers are so warm to the touch. They drift down so slowly your breathing practically stops. You can feel your arousal beginning to weep from you as your lips part for air. 

“How wet is your pussy for me? Hmm?” he hisses, dipping his hand lower on your stomach.

His fingers make a V motion, opening your lower lips for him. A choked groan echoes throughout the room as his fingers drift lazily over your sodden folds.

 “Fuck.” he curses as his fingers become coated in your arousal. 

It’s practically sinful the way he bites his bottom lip. The way his eyes trail over your body before lewdly staring at your soaked cunt makes you feel frazzled. 

“Look at you. Your pussy is begging to be filled with me.” he murmurs with wonder.

“Joon. Please.” you beg, running your hands run over his shoulders. He hums gently at your words, licking his lips. 

“Please what?” he asks, each word punctuated with a quick slap to your pussy. 

Through sharp gasps you find the words. “Please fuck my pussy. I’m so horny for you.” 

He smirks, bending down over you, his lips connecting to yours. His thumb collects your arousal, rubbing smooth circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

You gasp into his mouth, thighs beginning to shake and he takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth with a gentle moan. His hips rut into the air, begging for relief as you whimper against his lips.

His fingers, coated in the slick juices of your cunt, thrust into your tight core without warning. Your back bows off the bed as your eyes screw shut, euphoric pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Moaning against your lips at the tightness of your cunt, his fingers find a steady rhythm inside of you.  

“Yes! Fuck!” you cry out, running your fingers run through his hair.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles against your jaw before rearing back and spitting on your cunt. 

The sound and feeling sends a shiver up your spine and your legs spread wider accordingly.  

The obscene squelching of your pussy sends the man above you into a frenzy. His teeth nip at the bare mound of flesh above your core before licking at your clit. As if his life depended on getting you off, he suckles earnestly at your bud. Loving the way your hips roll and undulate on his face for more. 

Tugging at his hair, your moans are almost screams, watching him eat you out so diligently -- the handsome man you denied feelings for for so long finally between your legs eating you out like it was his last fucking meal. White-hot pleasure courses through your bones as his fingers curl inside of you and he groans adding a third. You whimper his name and he finds his eyes rolling back in his skull at your sweet taste. 

It was building then, the bubble inside of you growing expansively as your thighs begin to quake. 

“You’re going to cum for me? Hmm? Make a mess all over my fingers like the pretty little girl you are?” 

Your nod is fervent at his words, your breathing becoming shallow. 

His fingers begin to scissor open your pussy and you groan at the stretch. 

“Gotta prep your sweet cunt, your pussy is too tight for my cock.” his words goad you towards the precipice. 

His lips attach back to your clit, suckling harshly against you and your eyes screw shut. Raking the pads of his fingers against the spongy nerves inside you, you find your mind growing fuzzy. Everything you hear sounds as if you are underwater as he praises you against your clit. 

“Cum for me, baby.” 

With those four words you tip over the edge, screaming his name as your eyelids go white from the pleasure. 

Your thighs quake, hands tightening in his hair as you run your clit over his tongue until you’re completely fucked out before him. 

“Good girl,” he praises.

He still continues to stretch you out for him. Murmuring words of praise to you until you come down from the cloud you were just upon. He pulls out of you slowly, watching your cunt gape for him and the groan he emits has your stomach churning for more. 

“Eyes on me, baby.” he announces, entering his fingers into his mouth. 

His eyes flutter closed at the taste, running his tongue through every finger to get every bit of your essence. 

He slips his shirt off of his body and you can’t seem to rip your eyes away from his golden skin. The lightning highlights his pecs and the small abs that contort against his stomach with every harsh breath. You’ve seen him walk around without a shirt on before. Always drooling over how sexy he was. 

But this. 

This is a fucking god send. 

His fingers find the waistband of his basketball shorts before his tongue trails slowly over his bottom lip. 

Pulling down the waistband of his shorts, your breath catches at the size of his cock. Most cocks you’ve seen in your life slap up against a man's stomach when they’re released from the confines of their pants. 

Namjoon’s cock is so large and thick that it bobs in the air at the heaviness. Two toned and sinfully hard, he chuckles at your gaping mouth. You watch as his thumb runs over the dusky rose colored veins of his length. Precum pools at the slit of his bulbous head as your pussy twitches around nothing, wanting to be filled with his cock. 

“Fuck,” is all you can say as he strokes his cock languidly. 

“Come.” he whispers, sitting back on the balls of his feet. 

You find yourself scrambling onto all fours, mouth beginning to water for him. You want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue, taste the precum that seems to endlessly release from him. 

Your lips trail over his pecs. Suckling sweetly at the taut skin and he hisses gently in response. 

“God, your lips feel so fucking good.” 

You hum to him, shooing his hand away from his cock. 

Your hand grips at the base, eyes almost rolling back as your thumb can’t seem to meet your index finger. 

“You’re so fucking big.” you whisper, running your tongue over his dark nipple, feeling it pucker between your lips. 

“I’m gonna fuck you right open, baby.” his promise makes you preen and you trail your lips slowly to his other pectoral muscle. You can feel the thick muscle ripple underneath before suckling at his other nipple. He groans gently, body wobbling as his fingers run through your hair. 

You kiss down his golden skin, lightning highlighting his features still as the rain begins to patter harder against the window of your bedroom. Your tongue rakes over his small abs, hearing his breath catch and then stop as you descend lower. 

“Y/N.” your name is breathlessly spoken as you come face to face with his hard cock. 

Your tongue licks at your lips, watching his cock twitch with excitement in your hand. Your eyes meet his and you find it wildly attractive how his eyebrows furrow with concentration. 

Licking over the base, his body shudders. He curses quietly, a sound swallowed by thunder outside your window. Swirling your tongue over the head, you gather his precum on your tongue. Heavy and tasting like sea salt from the deepest ocean, you simply moan at the taste. 

The sound ricochets through his body as tingles are sent down his spine. His hands grasp tighter at your hair as you begin to fuck him into your mouth, slowly worshiping at his large cock and he can only gasp for you. 

“Shit, your mouth is amazing.” he mumbles, watching you with blown out irises. 

You swallow around him, beginning to fuck him quicker into your mouth to hear his moans grow louder for you. It’s the way your tongue laps at the base as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat that he puts all caution to the wind. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, do you understand?” 

You whimper against him in confirmation, gripping his thighs.  

Taking a sharp inhale through his teeth, he begins to snap his hips to you. Your eyes well up with tears as you gag on his length. 

Swallowing around him, you groan happily as he fucks your throat. Your muscles clench and coax him and he hisses through his teeth. 

"Fuck, your mouth is so willing, isn't it? Letting me just fuck your filthy little throat like a cocksleeve." 

You moan at his words. 

One hand leaves your hair to drift down your back, the other pulling your head quicker against him as he moans loudly. His hand reaches the globe of your ass, caressing the skin before rearing back and spanking you roughly. Tears stream down your cheeks as you moan for him, spittle and precum stream over your lips and chin. 

"Look at how pretty your ass is when you get spanked. Nice and red for me." 

He rubs at the smarting skin, your thighs shake as the sting radiates through you. 

"You want more? You want your ass to be branded with my hand print?" he asks. 

You can feel his cock thickening and throbbing within your throat. 

You moan in confirmation, the new wave of arousal dripping out of you and down your inner thighs. 

He spanks you again, shorter and harder until your skin sings with a color he's pleased with. 

"You're such a good girl taking that. That was for fucking other men so loudly, you gave me no choice but to pine for you." he murmurs, running his thumbs over your tear soaked cheeks. 

He gasps gently as you hollow your cheeks, begging for him to cum down your throat. 

The thought sends your clit throbbing, wanting to have his cum stream down your throat and tongue -- wanting to feel the warm of him spread throughout your mouth. 

"Fuck! Y/N! I'm cumming, baby! Swallow it and show me." he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, groaning loudly. 

His hips stutter before you feel the warm of him burst in your mouth. You moan as he whispers your name repeatedly. Thrusting shallowly, he milks himself of every drop. Swallowing, you find the musky taste pleasant,

When you pull off of him, you open your mouth. He smirks, running his hand over your cheek smoothly. 

"That's my girl." 

He crawls over you and your hands run over of his arms. His lips, smooth as silk drift over your nipples once more adoring how they harden all over again for him. His hips rut against you, splaying open your pussy lip as he coats the underside of his cock in your arousal. You whimper, feeling the bulbous head of his cock stimulate your clit. 

"God, I adore you." he coos, kissing you languidly.

The head of his cock prods at your entrance and you whimper against his lips as he begins to fill you. The stretch is pleasant albeit the twinge of pain from his large length but his tongue snakes into your mouth as you gasp to distract you. He groans against your lips, as he buries himself to the hilt. 

"You're so tight, baby. Fuck." his voice drops an octave, as if he's restraining himself and your walls flutter around him at the sexiness of it.

"Oh you like that? Hmm? You like hearing how fucking restless you make me?" 

He gives a shallow thrust, the bulbous head dragging through your velvet walls. Your head lolls back as his hands grip at your hips. He begins a steady pace, fucking you so well you begin to droll at the pleasure. 

"You're so goddamn wet!" he seethes through his teeth. 

Here you are, beneath him like he had dreamed so many times over. His bottom lip becomes sheathed behind his teeth as he snaps his hips quicker to yours. Your moans are loud, echoing throughout the room and through the thunder as it crashes throughout the skies. 

"Pretty little thing underneath me." he praises, grabbing your ankles and throwing them over his shoulders. 

The new angle sends white-hot pleasure coursing through your bones. Your roommate begins to fuck you faster and you can’t help but curl your toes at the feeling. 

"Choke me!" you beg him as his hand moves towards the apex of your thighs.

His grip is perfectly tight, rubbing quick circles onto your clit as he moans loudly. 

"Your pussy is so fucking messy. God, look at how you soak my cock. It's because you know who you belong to, don't you?" 

You whimper out as he fucks you deeper. 

"Who do you belong to, baby? Tell me!" 

"You! Namjoon! I belong to you!" you cry out out, the pleasure taking over your senses as tears pool in your eyes.

"That's fucking right you do. You're mine, gorgeous. All fucking mine." 

He can feel your cunt beginning to throb around him and he whimpers out as he feels his ball tighten. 

"I've wanted to cum so deep in your tight little cunt for so long. Fill you up to the brim and have people see my cum drip down your pretty legs. I want people to know who you fucking belong to. Who you beg for cock at night." 

Your fingernails rake down his skin when he lifts your hips higher.

The head of his cock caresses the sweet spot within you at each thrust and you find your mind going blank, babbling nonsense. 

"Getting dumb on my cock, baby? Is that it? Am I fucking you stupid? Hmm?"

"Joon! Fuck!" you whine, leaving bright red lines over his golden skin.

"Cum on my cock, baby. Cum and show me who you belong to." 

You can feel your pussy begin to milk him, the bubble within you about to burst. 

"That's right, baby. Show me how much you love my big cock." 

With a loud gasp, you tip over the edge. Galaxies of stars paint the back of your eyelids as tears stream down your face. 

"Fuck! Good girl! So fucking tight." he moans, shoving your ankles off of his shoulders. 

He buries his face into your neck, suckling harshly at the skin as his cock thickens once more. His hips snap harder, your name floats through the air as he finds himself coming to the same euphoric state. His thrusts stop with a loud groan and ropes of cum lather your soaked cunt. 

"Oh Jesus." he gasps, pressing his forehead to your cheek.

With a loud sigh he grabs hold of you, pulling out of you slowly before falling beside you. He pulls you to his chest and you can hear how fast his heart is beating while his eyes flutter shut. 

"Open your legs." he instructs.

You do as told and he hums happily watching your pussy begin to cream with his cum. His lips press to your forehead, looking out the window as the rain still barrages the window. 

"Why don't we get you cleaned up and I'll get us some wine, hmm? We can go out on the balcony and cuddle." 

You turn towards him, chin on his chest as your hand drifts over his stomach. "I'd love nothing more than that." you whisper. 

He smiles widely, dimples appearing for you before kissing you gently. "Me too, baby."

[fictionalabyss]

Mated : You should be out there, somewhere, happy.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam.

Word count : 4,130

Written for : @spnabobingo

Square : Motor oil / cut grass / gunpowder

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, heat / rut, minor smut, possessive Dean, Dean doesn't think he deserves nice things,  lonely Sam, hunting talked about, some fluff too.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

Part 2 of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

Dean had had to leave Palo Alto the day after meeting him in the bar, and you had a feeling that had something to do with Sam. Dean had called, apologizing and mumbling something about work, but you assured him it was fine, that you understood. You’d be seeing him in a few days anyways.

Now here you were, the same motel room as every other time, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for him. He had shot you a quick text earlier saying he was about an hour or so away. You glanced down at your phone, checking to see if another had come through when you hear the engine outside and smile to yourself.

Putting the phone down, you barely had time to stand before the door burst open and you’re faced with Dean. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow and his chest moves with heavy breaths. “You smell so fucking good.” He growls, shoving the door shut before surging forward to grab hold of you. His lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his body relaxes a little as it presses up against yours. “So fucking good.” he whispers, mouthing down to your jaw.

“Bet I taste better.” you tease with a smile, your fingers running through his hair.

“Oh, I know you do baby. Can’t fucking wait to taste it again.” You couldn’t help but giggle as his tongue ran up the length of your throat. “Get it all off before I tear through it like last time.” he breathed out heavily, his lips just leaving your skin as he started to yank off his jacket. “Need you so fucking bad.”

You smiled as you reached for his bulge, cupping it in your hand and giving him a squeeze. He was throbbing hard under that denim and you could feel slick pooling between your thighs at the thought of it soon being inside you. “I couldn’t tell.” you teased.

Dean growled, throwing his jacket aside. “Don’t tease me. I can smell you want me just as bad.” his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer again, his lips latching onto your throat as he sucked and bit into it. “Get it off.” the rumble of his words vibrating against your throat making you whimper.

The two of you barely parted, both of you watching the other with parted lips and heavy breath as you scrambled to rid yourselves of the rest of your clothing. As soon as you were bare to him, he was on you again. His overheating body tight against yours, one hand cupping the back of your neck as his tongue invaded your mouth to seek out yours, while his other grabbed at your ass and tried to pull you closer, not that you could get any closer.

A step at a time, he moved you backwards until you felt the bed behind you. It took a coordination the two of you developed over the last year, but without breaking the kiss, without fully parting, you found yourself laying in the bed with him over you, his hands running down your thighs to your calves before wrapping them around his waist.

As he finally settled over you, he rutted against you, his cock sliding through slick soaked folds, and he groaned. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”

“Been wet since you told me your rut was coming.”

Dean chuckled as he nuzzled into your neck. “Just the thought of me fucking you gets you going, huh?.” You nod, bottom lip between your teeth and whimper when his hips rut forward again and you feel him slide the entire length of his cock along your clit. It’s covered in your slick, and so warm against you. “What a good little Omega.”

You smile at the praise as Dean’s hips pull back and he reaches down to line himself up. He teases you with the tip, prodding at your entrance but never pushing in, and you give him a frustrated whine as you try to pull him with your legs. “Come on, don’t tease me.” Dean chuckles again and pushes home, your lips fall open in a soft gasp.

“Did you miss me?” Dean smiles against your throat, and you nod. “Good. Because, baby, I’m going to fuck you senseless right now, I can’t hold back much longer, but afterwards,” he pressed a soft kiss under your ear. “I’m gonna make you feel really fucking good.”

“You always do, Alpha.” Dean growled at the title, hips pulling back then slammed them forward making you cry out.

It took Sam a bit, but he eventually managed to track down his brother. Dean had ditched him 3 days ago with barely a word. A simple note that said “I’ll be back” left on the motel room table, calls going right to voicemail. The car Sam had hotwired to get down here, he left parked in some back alley two blocks away, and he walked his way to the motel.

The Impala was parked right outside room 9, and a peek through the crack in the curtain confirmed that Dean was inside. Sam could see his bag on the bed, open.  Heading for the door, Sam glanced around before trying the knob. Locked, which didn’t surprise him, so he got to work getting it unlocked. Didn’t take too long before he was stepping into the room, hearing the shower going in the bathroom.

Sam shut the door behind him, and glanced around. Dean wasn’t alone, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t just the items scattered around that confirmed it, it was the smell. The room reeked of rut and sex, and-

Sam froze.

He could smell fresh cut grass of an open field after a cool autumn rainfall. He knew that scent, he’d smelt it a thousand times and could pick it out of anything, even this room, overpowered by Dean's own scent. Motor oil, gunpowder, and his own fresh cut grass, though more like a hot summer day than a cool autumn.  Slight difference, so slight most people might not notice but Sam knew both of these people really well.

Dean hadn’t just left, Dean went to you.

“Sammy?” Sam snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see his brother, sweat pants low on his waist, hair wet and a few stray water droplets running down the side of his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, got a call for a case, I-”

“No. Not taking it.”  Dean cut it right off and started for the bed.

“Dean, someone called in a favor, we can’t-”

“Can and will. I’m busy.”

“I already said yes.”

“Then you call back, and say you're sending in someone else.” Dean shot his little brother a glare. “How the fuck did you even get here?”

“Hotwired a car..” Sam’s words trailed off as he turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening and he saw you walking out, not yet seeing him as you towel dried your hair. But he saw you, so much of you. His brother’s t-shirt showed off the swell of your breasts perfectly, and likely brushed along the tops of your thighs but currently giving him a peek at the panties underneath since your arms were up drying your hair. A ghost of a smile on your face before you looked up and it faded when your eyes landed on him.

“Sam?”

“He’s leaving.” Dean practically growled.

“We have a job.” Sam countered, unable to take his eyes off of you.  Yours were on him too, watching him as his eyes scanned over you once more.

Suddenly Dean was behind you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, pulling your back against him and a step farther from Sam, his growl loud and threatening and directed at his baby brother. “Fuck off, Sam, before you get hurt.” Dean threatened.

Sam was confused by the threat, his eyes shooting to Dean with a furrowed brow. “Dean, what the hell? Since when do you threaten me? Especially over some girl-” His eyes had shifted to you again, as he gestured, but another growl from Dean cut him off.

Dean’s grip on you got tighter, pulling you impossibly closer. He was possessive as all hell, and honestly, it was kind of a turn on. Sam just looked more confused. “He’s 3 days into his rut, Sam.” You informed him. “His rut is throwing me into my heat a week early, and you just walked into the room.”

“I’m his brother, I’d never-”

“You’re another Alpha. Do you think straight mid rut?” Sam seemed to stop and consider that for a moment. “If Dean had walked into your house when it was you and blondie-”

“You're not his mate.” Sam snapped, but calmed when he saw Dean’s lip curl back. “But I get what you’re saying.” His attention turned to his brother. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll find someone else for the job.”

“Good.” Dean grumbled, glare still holding firm on Sam.

“I’ll get a room close by. If you need anything, just call me.” You gave Sam a small smile, letting him know you would if anything came up. “I’ll drop off dinner later, okay? I know how you sometimes forget to eat.”

“Thanks, Sammy. But you really need to go. Now.”

Sam nodded, sending you one last look before he left the room, the door closing quietly behind him. You breathed out a sigh of relief before turning to face Dean, who was still glaring at the door. “Hey.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me.” You cupped his cheek as he looked down at you. “He’s gone. It’s just you and me again. He wasn’t going to touch me, Dean.”

“You didn’t see how he was looking at you.”

“I did see it. It’s how I used to look at him.” you gave him a shrug. Dean growled, and you chuckled. “But now, it’s how I look at you.” you smiled fondly at him. “But I must say, I am tempted to call him back in here.”

“What!?”

“I like possessive Dean.” you teased with a wide grin, reaching up on your toes to nip at his chin.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled. “I swear to god-”

“You’ll what?” you asked, pulling away from him and taking a few steps backwards. “What will you do, Alpha?” With a growl, Dean surged forward, scooping you up into his arms, his lips pressing to yours with bruising force. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh yeah, I like possessive Dean.”

When Dean opened his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile. You were still asleep in the bed next to him, and he let himself admire you unnoticed and uninterrupted. The way your hair was mussed, not just from the romp in the late night hours, but also from how you moved in your sleep. The breath that lightly fell from slightly parted lips, making your chest rise and fall. The softness of your face as you sleep safe and warm in his bed, not a worry in the world to be had.

He enjoyed these quiet little moments where he could just marvel in how beautiful you looked to him. His rut over, your heat finally died down. No biology dictating what happens. He liked this. It was just him, and you.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the intake of breath, not until there was someone looking back at him. “Morning.” you smiled, stretching your arms and legs, back arching before settling in again.

“Morning.”

“What? Did I drool?” you ask, wiping off your mouth with the back of your hand, and Dean just smiles even more and shakes his head.

“No. Just glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” you chuckle softly and Dean shrugs.

“Living your life.”

“I am living it.” your eyes start searching his face. “What’s going on, Dean?”

“I just can’t believe an Omega like you isn’t mated yet. What is it? What’s stopping that? Is it you? Is it them?”

You chuckled softly and shook your head, looking up at the ceiling. “Honestly, I just never went looking for it. I wanted college, I wanted a fun and free life, I didn’t want to just be someone’s Omega, ya know?” you glanced at Dean, hoping to see understanding in his face. “I wanted to live for myself. Do what I wanted to do, so that’s what I did. And then…” you sighed.

“Sam?”

“Yeah.” the chuckle you let out that time was half scoff. “It crept up on me. Literally, one day he’s just Sam and the next… he’s Sam.” you sighed. “I realized I was in love with him, but.. He met her, and he was barely even my friend anymore.”

“But after that? After you left, after you headed home? Why me and not someone who wanted more?”

“I was hurt. Casual was easier to deal with at the time.”

Dean’s beautiful green eyes have been watching you, studying your face as you answer him. Taking in the words you say and how you’re saying them. “What about now? What if I stop calling?” Your eyes shoot to his and he can see something in them, something he didn’t expect. Worry.

“Do you regret me?”

“No, I don’t regret you.” Dean reaches over, fingers brushing over your cheek to try and soothe you. “But I regret keeping you.” The worry in your eyes changed to something else, something that made him need to explain. “You should be mated, sweetheart. You should be out there, somewhere, happy.”

“I am happy.”

“With someone who can make you happy.”

“You made me happy!” Dean sighed and got out of the bed, and you shot up, clutching the blanket to your chest as you sat there in the bed and watched him. “What the fuck, Dean?”

“You deserve more, you deserve a mate who can give you everything. A house, kids, happiness, the whole 9 fucking yards. All I got to give is a week in a shitty motel room once a month. That’s not a life, it’s not happiness.”

You swallowed, trying to keep as calm as you could. “I come because I want to, I come because I love being here with you.” your eyes, locking on his, not letting him turn away or shut you down, not until he heard you. “I know I can go look for more, Dean, I know full and damn well what this is, but I don’t. I don’t because this, right here, you and me, it makes me happy. Nothing else exists when I’m in here with you. It’s just us, and I like that. I look forward to you, Dean. When you text or call, it makes my fucking day because I know I make you smile too. You say it’s not enough, but it’s open, it’s honest, there’s no bullshit between us and for the first time in a long fucking time I feel wanted. I don’t have to beg for your time because you give it, even if it's just a text, you give it.”

Dean stood there quietly, eyes searching your face as he weighed those words.

“You make me happy, Dean. And I know I make you happy, too, so I don’t know why you’re doing this right now.”

With a sigh, Dean got back into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you down against him. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, nuzzling himself into your neck. “I just get in my own head sometimes. I’m sorry. You’re just so fucking perfect, and I’m-”

“Perfect.” you assured him with a smile. “Perfect enough for me, anyways.” you corrected, before he could protest. “I promise you, Dean, if I’m ever unhappy, I’ll tell you. But I’m not. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Dean buried his face deeper into your neck and breathed you in, letting your scent soothe him. “It’s so fucking hard not to claim you sometimes.” he muttered to himself, not meaning for you to hear him.

“Then why don’t you?” Dean froze and remained quiet for a while. You were about to pull back from him and ask again when he spoke.

“It doesn’t end well for us.”

“How do you know, we’ve never-”

“Winchesters, I mean. Mates, they.. they die.”

“Everyone dies.”

He shook his head, but didn’t pull it out of your neck. It was like he was afraid to. “They get killed. Killed for just being with us. Mom, Jess.. As shit as it is to say, I’m glad Sam hurt you because if he hadn’t, it would have been you who died in that fire.”

“What are you saying, Dean?”

“There’s something you don't know about us. A lot you don’t know about us.”

“Tell me.” Your voice was as quiet as a whisper, half afraid to hear, but needing to know. He was quiet again, but you gave him time, let him tell you at his own pace.

“It started with mom. She died in a fire, like Jess did. Exactly like Jess. Sam in bed, her in flames on the ceiling above him, me pulling him out before he burns too.”

“On the-”

“It wasn’t a house fire.. It was so much more.. Been hunting the fucking thing my whole life, it consumed my dad, it’s consuming Sam now. It’s what we do, we hunt. Sam tried to leave it, tried to do college, tried to have a mate and a life outside of this, but no one gets out, not alive. I’m scared. Every fucking time I meet up with you, I’m scared that I’m followed. I’m scared that I’ll leave and something else will walk in and you’ll stand no fucking chance..”

“Then teach me what I need to know.” At that, Dean pulled away. “Living your life in fear is not living, Dean. You’ll let it taint what we have, you’re already doing it. So teach me. Whatever it is that you do, whatever it is that you’re afraid will get me, prepare me so I have a fighting chance.”

“You’re serious?”

“I told you, Dean. You’re my happy.” Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Happiness is worth fighting for, so teach me to fight.” Dean nodded, letting his forehead rest against yours as he shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “And stop holding back. If you want to claim me, Dean,  just ask.”

Dean pulled back. “But I thought-”

“How many times do I have to say that I’m happiest with you?”

The grin that spread over his face was the most beautiful one you’d ever seen. He pressed his lips to yours, soft, tender and loving. “I want to, I’ve wanted to for months.”

“I’ve been yours for months.” you answered with a smile.

It was a bit after 10 when Sam knocked on the motel room door with two bags of takeout in his hands. He waited patiently, not wanting to risk getting his head ripped off if he just walked in like the first time. He’d been dropping off a meal or two all week to be sure you were both eating, and this was how it went, he’d knock, the door would open, Dean would snatch the food and grumble a thanks before shutting the door in his face. It’s what he was expecting when the door opened.

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Hey.” Sam greeted his brother, and held out one of the bags.

“Is that Sam?” Sam heard you from inside. “Stop being mean to your brother, Dean, invite him in.” Sam cocked an eyebrow at that, but Dean just smiled.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked cautiously.

“Wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t, Sammy.” Dean took the bag from his brother and walked away from the door, leaving it open as an invitation to Sam.

Sam weighed the options, join you and Dean for breakfast and be reminded of the best friend he’d lost and what his brother found in her, or go eat in his own room and be reminded of just how alone he was. Both options sucked. With a sigh, Sam stepped inside and shut the door.

Dean was taking out the containers from the bag when he glanced over and motioned for Sam to come in and sit. The table was small, only two chairs, one on either side, so Sam sat in the closest one, Dean dropping into the one opposite him.

The water in the bathroom turned off, and Sam glanced up from opening his breakfast container to see you come out with a smile. “Morning, Sam.”

“Morning.” he answered, taking you in. You were wearing a hoodie and sleep shorts, and he almost smiled to himself about how some things don’t change. He remembers countless times showing up at your dorm room to find you dressed like that, nose buried in a book. He could smell you, not as strong as last time, but you smelt different. The same, but something about it was different. It was so slight, but he chalked it up to the week you’d spent with Dean locked away in this room.

“Oh, he brought breakfast.” you grinned, happily making your way to the table. Sam was about to offer up his seat when Dean wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you onto his lap. You didn’t seem to care as Dean held on to you and ate with his free hand, just focused on getting your own breakfast container opened before reaching for the plastic fork that had come with it. “So where were we?” Sam furrowed his brow as Dean seemed to be thinking. “Ghosts?” you asked, fork coming up to your mouth and taking a bite.

“Hmm.” Dean nodded and swallowed. “Salt. You got a ghost problem, salt lines, salt circles, shoot ‘em with rocksalt.”

“Why is everything bothered by salt?”

“What is going on?” Sam looked between the two of you.

“I’m learning.” you smiled over at him between bites.

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Iron.” Dean added, ignoring his brother’s question. “Crowbar or fire poker, swing at ‘em. They won’t leave for good, but it’ll give you time to move.”

“Oh! Finally, a reason to buy one of those nice fake fireplace heater things.” You got a weird look from both of them and shrugged. “It’s going to be weird having a fire poker but no fireplace. People will think I’m crazy.”  Dean just rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. “I suppose I could just say I collect them..”

“Shifters.” Dean continued. “Look human, but not human. Not fully.”

“Why are they called shifters?” You turned to look at Dean behind you, and that’s when Sam saw it, the mark at the base of your neck.

“Because they can shift to look like anyone. Oh! Hang on, I’ve got something for you.” Dean gave you a nudge, and you stood, letting him up and he hurried to his bag.

“You claimed her?!” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah, Sammy, I did.” Dean answered, digging through his bag. “We got a problem?”

Sam looked to you and you gave him a soft smile. “He makes me happy, Sam.”

Sam just looked away, looked down at his food and nodded. “Just be careful.” he mumbled, making you furrow your brow in confusion.

“Here.” You turned to Dean and found him holding a ring. “Silver.” he smiled, taking your hand and sliding it over your finger on your dominant hand. “If you touch someone, and they pull back like they were burned, run. So many things are hurt by silver.”

You gave him a nod, looking down at the plain silver band, then looked over at Sam who still wasn’t looking up at either of you. Dean sat back in his chair and pulled you back onto his lap so you can both continue eating.

“Now you know why I’m teaching her.” Sam looked up at that, meeting his brother's eyes. “She won’t end up like them.” Sam just nodded and looked back down at his meal. “Oh, and I’m going to have to teach you Latin.”

“Latin!?”

“Demons.” Sam piped up, but didn’t look up. As much as he hated this, he wasn’t going to let Dean’s decision lead you to your death as much as he could help it. “Exorcism is in Latin.”

“It’s going to be difficult, isn’t it?” you pouted.

“Oh yeah.” Dean chuckled. “But you’re smart, you’ll get it.”

“God I hope so..” you sighed.

“Speaking of demons..” Dean took a bite of bacon. “Salt.” he chuckled.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Dean - @akshi8278  @adoptdontshoppets   @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural  @deandreamernp

Sam -  @evyiione  @hoboal87

SPN -  @sandlee44  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @deanandsamsbitch  @deans-baby-momma  @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng   @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh  @ksgeekgirl   @hobby27 @maddiepants  @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn    @fandom-princess-forevermore     @kalesrebellion   @deanwanddamons   @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted  @kazkingdom   @babypink224221  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @anaelsbrunette​ @lazinessisalliknow  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl

[crybabykiko]

hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[laurenwritesfics]

Here it is folks, chapter 5! Again, sorry for the wait but I hope it will have been worth it!

Read the previous chapter HERE / read the full series on AO3

Warning(s): Angst (sorry...again)

CHAPTER FIVE: ADJUSTMENTS

Things had started to feel calmer now. Time had begun to slow down, and Frank was grateful for the chance to breathe again. One Saturday, he returned from the boat yard to change his oil-stained shirt and caught sight of Mary’s journal on the kitchen table – Evelyn had forced her into therapy back in Boston, and though she had hated it, journaling was the one thing she kept on doing – it had been left open on a page filled with tally marks. At the top of the page, she had written ‘number of days without Fred’. Frank pressed his palms against the table and dipped his head. Perhaps Mary would always struggle emotionally in one way or another. He was beginning to feel like a failure. Was his best really good enough? It was impossible to tell.

Sunday was just as quiet. They ate together in silence. Roberta didn’t visit. Their new normal was frustratingly abnormal.

“School tomorrow.” Frank cast a glance at Mary. “Homework done? Books ready?” He knew he didn’t need to ask, but he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Mary’s fork danced around her plate. “Obviously.” She huffed.

“Sorry, I was just asking.”

No reply.

Mary scrunched her nose and continued to pick at her plate, retreating back into her bubble.

“Listen,” Frank reached over and put a hand on her cold arm “I know things are hard right now. But if you talk about it, sometimes it makes things easier.”

“You sound like Evelyn.”

Frank’s shoulders dropped. “You don’t have to finish dinner, okay? You’re cold. I’m gonna go get you a sweater or something.”

“I’m fine.”

He ignored her and left the table. Mary pushed him away every time he tried to slip her arms into one of her hoodies. He fought back, not realizing how roughly he was holding her until she winced and slipped off the chair. He immediately swept her into his arms.

“I’m sorry.” He rocked her slightly. “You need to stop being so fucking stubborn, Mary.” His voice cracked a little. Her tiny hands squeezed him as hard as they could and she rested her head on his shoulder. When Mary started to cry, so did Frank. He pulled back, brushed a strand of hair from her face and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I’m trying my best here. You’ve gotta give me something, kiddo.”

Mary nodded, paused and then ruffled Frank’s hair. He returned the gesture and tucked her under his arm, carrying her across the kitchen and into the living room. She was laughing now. They both were. Mary dangled in his grip, arms limp, then tumbled down, grabbing his hands and stepping on his feet.

“Can we watch TV?” She looked up at him, the dewy sheen of tears beginning to fade from her eyes.

“Sure. But only for a little while. You’ve gotta get up early for school.”

Mary threw her head back and groaned. “Why can’t I just skip class tomorrow? Everybody hates me anyway.”

Frank tugged on her wrists. “Hey, nobody hates you, okay? They’re just jealous of how smart and awesome you are.”

“You have to say that, you’re my Uncle.”

“I’m also an adult, which believe it or not, means I actually know more than you do. About people, at least.”

“Yeah, you are kinda dumb…” She nodded.

“That’s it,” Frank picked her up “you just lost your extra hour of TV.”

In spite of his attempt at sternness, he let her fall asleep on the couch.

Monday came, and Frank finally finished his work on the Celestia. One brief phone call later, he had been invited to join the owner for a trip out on the lake. Frank would usually have been cautious about this – especially with wealthy customers - but he accepted the offer simply because it would give him a chance to clear his head. It was better than sneaking onto someone else’s boat with a six-pack of Heineken at two in the morning, at least. As he wiped his hands on a worn rag, he reclined against the workbench in the corner of the garage. A soft ache spread through his chest. Deep into his biceps. Exhaustion snuck up on him without warning. The chaos of the past few months was finally catching up with him.

He waited so long for Mary to come home from school that he started to think maybe she’d gone on another adventure. His worries subsided when she arrived, shoulders pushed forward under the weight of her satchel. As she threw it down and began to unpack a stack of books, Frank realized exactly what had happened.

“Did you walk all the way from Jackson?”

“Yeah.” Mary squinted as she fumbled around for another book. “Lucy’s really nice. She let me take out a bunch of stuff.”

“She did, huh? Am I gonna be serving you dinner in your room tonight?” He half-joked.

Mary had already stopped listening. Frank shook his head and turned back to the stove to finish cooking. This time, eating in silence didn’t feel awkward – Mary brought a book to the table, fork occasionally missing her mouth as she sat absorbed in whatever it was she was reading. Frank pictured her walking down Jackson with her nose in another book and couldn’t help letting out a soft huff of amusement. She was almost happy. And at least for now, almost was enough.

When he checked on Mary, he peered into a room lit only by a small torch light. She was back in her reading tent. Even though the door squeaked slightly, she didn’t stir. Back in his own bedroom, Frank reached into his nightstand for his phone. Lucy would wake the next morning to a short, thankful text message.

Frank and Mary, however, woke to a prolonged, impatient buzzing. The doorbell.

He was tempted to rub his eyes again when he saw the woman standing on the porch.

Evelyn.

Frank was immediately skeptical, but he opened the door to her anyway.

“Well,” she popped a hip and adjusted her sunglasses “are you going to ask me to come in or shall I just stand here on the porch?”

“Mary’s heading to school in a couple minutes.” His jaw tightened a little as he watched her fingers flex against the handle of her travel case. This wasn’t an impromptu visit.

“I’ll say hello quickly, then.” She barged past him, the wheels of her case narrowly missing his toes.

Mary had a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and a book clutched to her chest. She covered her mouth as she hurriedly chewed and then walked around the kitchen island to meet Evelyn.

“Hello, darling.” Evelyn planted a kiss on the crown of Mary’s head, leaving a glossy pink mark in her hair. “Off to school?”

“Yep.” Mary replied, popping the ‘p’ curtly. “Are you staying with us?”

“Maybe. That depends on your uncle.” She inclined her head towards Frank in a way that she thought was comical, but it just made Mary cringe.

“Why?” She knelt down to shove the book she was holding into her satchel.

“That’s enough, short-stuff.” Frank intervened, steering her away from Evelyn. “Let’s go.”

“Have a good day, darling!” Evelyn called out, pivoting her suitcase so that it would fit flush against the wall.

When Frank returned, he slammed the front door and crossed his arms as he glared down at Evelyn.

“Alright, what’s this about? What little scheme have you come up with now?”

Evelyn smoothed her sundress and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “You’re so hostile.” She tutted.

“Can you blame me?” He strode over to her and perched on the arm of the couch.

“Not at all.” She clasped her hands in her lap and twisted herself to face him. “I wanted –“she stuttered, blinking “-needed to see my son and granddaughter.”

In that moment, Frank saw himself. The same sunken hopelessness. He noticed raw pink lines beneath her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Evelyn seemed human.

“This is about Diane isn’t it.”

“Yes. I couldn’t face another anniversary alone, Frank.”

“You called me Frank.” He mused. “Where’s the real Evelyn?”

She managed the smallest of smiles and reached out rub his arm. “I lost her a long time ago.” She was holding his hand now, squeezing lightly. “I won’t stay too long. I’m sure you must be busy.”

Frank placed his other hand over hers. “Stay as long as you want.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Her icy tone returned.

“I mean it.” He insisted. “It’ll be good for Mary.”

“How is she?”

“Honestly? She’s struggling. She’s stubborn about it, though.”

“I wonder where she gets that from…” Evelyn chuckled.

“She’s dealing with more than a kid should have to deal with right now. Losing Fred, the car accident…”

Evelyn’s head jerked to the side. “Car accident?”

“Don’t worry, Mary wasn’t in the car. It was just me. I was a little drunk, it was stupid.”

“For God’s sake, Francis!” Evelyn yelled. “You stupid boy!”

Francis. Boy. She was his mother again. Instead of fighting back, the ache he had felt earlier returned and he slumped against the cushions.

“After it happened,” his breaths were shallow, a lump forming in his throat “I just sat there thinking about what would’ve happened if...” both his hands and his voice had begun to shake “I can’t take care of her. Not in the way she needs to be. Diane would be so fucking disappointed.”

Evelyn took Frank’s face in her hands and kissed his forehead. He buried his face in her shoulder and allowed her to be the mother she suddenly wanted to be.

“Diane would be very proud of you.” She glanced up at the ceiling, fighting back tears. “I’m proud of you, darling.” She whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair. “So proud of you.”

“I just want her to be okay.” He sniffled.

“She will be.” Evelyn turned to kiss Frank’s hair and then stood up, brushing a crease from the skirt of her dress. “Why don’t I cook dinner for us tonight? It’ll give you a chance to rest.”

Frank’s defenses were down, so he agreed.

That night, Evelyn made a shepherd’s pie and sat with Mary as she completed her homework. She piled chocolate ice cream into a bowl and made herself a martini. His mother was back, but she was still putting on the airs and graces of the woman she once was. He knew that if she didn’t, she would be more broken than she had been when she arrived. So he played pretend too.

Almost happy. Almost a family. And that would be just fine for now.

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[jenoismydad]

[8:01 P.M.]

||18+||Mark’s eyes widened to double their size. He hadn’t expected the movie you had chosen to be this erotic. I mean that was fine but he hadn’t expected his body to react in the way it was. He kept glancing towards you nervously, praying that you wouldn’t notice his current state of discomfort. There was a small cushion right next to you on the other side of him. If only there was some way he could get it and put it over his crotch. He couldn’t reach over you, so he leaned back as far as he could and stretched his arms out. His fingertips had barely brushed against the cushion when you called out to him. 

“What are you doing?”

Mark jerked back to place and stared at you unknowingly. “Nothing.”, he answered nonchalantly. You narrowed your eyes at him and looked between him and the cushion. “If you want it why don’t you just ask?”, you deadpanned, tossing him the small pillow which he accepted gratefully. 

Mark’s ears were burning red. The sex scene hadn’t ended yet, in fact it had gotten far more explicit than it was. This was an action movie for fucks sake not fifty shades of gray. You were quietly munching on some popcorn, clearly unaffected from the live porn that was in front of you. Mark could feel his pants tightening near his middle. How lousy. He couldn’t even handle one sex scene. 

“Mark are you alright?”

He nodded, but there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was nervous. 

“Are you sure, you don’t look too good.” You set down the large bowl of popcorn and scooted closer to Mark, but he steered away from you. Concerned, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mark what’s wrong?” Mark’s mouth was sealed shut. What was he supposed to say? ‘Nothing really, my dick just got hard from watching two people have fake sex because I’m a 20 year adult who can’t control my hormones for my own sake.’ He had some pride and he wasn’t going to throw it away like that. 

He shook his head and flashed you a reassuring smile which you saw right through. “Stop denying it. Mark even a five year old can tell you’re not okay?” Your palm was on his thigh now, eyes begging him to open up. Mark pressed the cushion closer on hips lap, only to have you raise a brow at his action. Looking between him and the pillow, your eyes lit up as you realised what was happening. “You have a boner right now don’t you.”

Mark’s face became a deep shade of red. You chucked lightly. “It’s alright Mark, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

His head hung in shame. “I’ll go to the bathroom then. Sorry.” 

You furrowed your brows and grabbed his hand, halting him from getting up. “You don’t have to you know. Not when you have me at least.”

Mark let your words sink in, his eyes widening in shock when he understood what you were implying. “I mean.”, you began, tracing your finger along his jean clad thigh, “I am your girlfriend after all. If not me then who else can?”

Mark gulped anxiously, not missing the suggestiveness in your tone. Of course he wanted you to help him out but he was skeptical since you’d literally started dating two days ago. If he said yes, would you be moving too fast?

You yourself were starting to grow anxious at his lack of response. Had you perhaps been too pushy? What if he thinks that you’re just dating him for sex? You took your hands off of him and moved away. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to though.”

Mark shook his head frantically and cleared his throat. “No I’m fine with it.”, he said hurriedly, not wanting to let go of your proposition. He let out a breath of relief seeing your grin from ear to ear. Sitting forward on your knees, you leaned forward, pulling him into a kiss. Mark took a second to react, kissing you back. Yours hands went to his jaw, taking lead for the most part. Mark let you guide the kiss, his mind too hazy to let him think straight. His lips were soft against yours, moving gently, no rush whatsoever. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss, Mark’s tongue brushed against your lip, to which you parted your own. A low moan escaped you when your tongues met. Mark’s heart raced, blood rushing to his cock at the small sound you made. 

You pulled away, giggling when Mark chased after your lips. He returned your smile, eyes falling on your moist lips. Taking his hand in yours, you got off the bed and brought him closer to the edge. Leaning down to kiss him once again, your hands wandered to his belt, quickly pulling it loose. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zip down, shamelessly palming his boner. Mark let out a choked moan, muffled by your lips. Pulling away, you smirked at him and got down on your knees, sitting between his legs. You looked up and Mark, hand sliding inside his boxers and grabbing his length. He let out a shaky breath, a slight blush still covering his cheeks. You pulled his length out of his boxers, eyes lighting up and mouth watering at the sight. 

Let’s just say that Mark was well equipped and you were having a hard time not wanting to shove his cock down your throat. Collecting his precum with your thumbs, you ran your hand along his length, giving him a few generous pumps before releasing a string on spit onto his tip. Mark groaned out, sitting up straighter to get a good view of the show. Coating his dick in the wetness, you fondled his tip with your tongue, running it along the small slit. Mark tugged off his hoodie. Things were starting to get too hot for him. Lowering your mouth on him, you only took a little of his length, sucking and swirling your tongue around it. 

“Don’t tease.”, he mumbled, starting to get impatient. You hummed in response and opened your mouth, taking in as much of his cock as you could. Mark lurched forward, eyes screwing shut as you hollowed your cheeks out. His eyes opened shortly after, only to see your lips wrapped neatly around his cock and he swore he’d nut at the sight. “Fuck you’re so hot.”, he blurted out. His mind was speaking for him now. This was perhaps the best blow job he’d ever had, not that he’d had many, but he was glad that he’d agreed to let you help him out. Your mouth felt so good, certainly better than his hand would ever feel. 

Wetness was pooling in your panties and you hand slowly disappeared in between your legs. Finger circling your clit, you moaned against Mark’s dick, sending vibrations through his shaft. Mark’s eyes tore open, his eyes travelling to your arm. “Holy shit.”, he groaned. Seeing you touch yourself made his cock twitch. He tapped your hand that was on his thigh, getting your attention. “I need to be inside you.”

You pressed your thighs together, letting go of his cock with a pop. Mark helped you up and shifted further onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him, hooking his fingers into your shorts to pull them down along with your panties. His fingers reached for your pussy, feeling your arousal. “Shit, you’re wet.”

You chuckled and ran your hand through his hair. “All for you baby.” Stepping out of your shorts, you climbed onto the bed, getting on his lap. Mark’s hands pushed up under your shirt, resting on the soft skin of your waist. You took his cock and lined it along your slit, moaning as his tip prodded at your entrance. Holding onto his shoulders, you sunk down on his cock, a deep moan pouring out of you as you did so. 

Rocking your hips against his, you set a steady pace. His cock pushed against your walls deliciously, filling you up just right. “Fuck, y/n you feel so good.”, Mark moaned out, latching his lips onto your neck. You moaned at his praise, tilting your head to give him more access to your skin. Your hands got lost in his hair, tugging harshly when his tip brushed against your sweet spot. Mark bit down on your neck, hands now gripping your ass. Having found the perfect spot, you repeatedly pushed yourself down on him, slowly starting to feel the knot in your stomach tighten. “Mark, fuck.”, you moaned, pulling his head closer to your neck. 

Mark pressed kisses to your jaw, now guiding your tired legs over his cock. “Mark fuck I’m gonna cum soon.”, you managed to warn him. “Shit, me too.” 

You took his hand, bringing his thumb to your clit. Mark began rubbing small circles into it, bucking his hips up into you. Screaming out, you pressed yourself into him, feeling his heart racing against your chest. Your walls were tight around his cock, your lewd moans edging him on greatly. Tightly clenching around him, you pushed yourself down on him and felt your orgasm consuming your body. “Oh my fucking god Mark.” You dragged out his name, head thrown back, eyes screwed shut. 

Mark couldn’t hold it any longer. Cock twitching, his cum shot into you, painting your walls in white. A string of curses left his mouth, his nails digging into your skin. Both of you were heaving, sweaty and flushed. You raised yourself off him, his cum dripping out of your pussy. Mark laughed at that, helping you steady yourself. You picked up your clothes and tossed them in your laundry basket, pulling on a new pair of shorts. “I’m gonna go take my pill. You can clean up until then.”

Mark watched you disappear out the door. What the fuck had just happened? Well you both fucked, he knew that, but it really amazed him how innocent netflix and chill turned into him getting a blowjob and then you riding him. The world was full of surprises and this one was damn good. He snapped out of his thoughts, realising that the movie had been playing in the background the entire time. Mark snickered and turned it off, retreating to your bathroom to freshen up, glad he’d cancelled his gaming plans for you. 

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 5: The Band of Seven, Resurrected

WELCOME TO EPISODE 5! So far, episode 6 is up on my Patreon already, and episode 7 is in progress. Support me on Patreon to see stuff first!

IMPORTANT: I am starting to integrate the art into the story a little differently! Instead of just visualizing a moment in the scene, the image will replace the lines it's depicting. It'll work more like a hybrid graphic novel, that way it'll flow better. (So don't skip over the art, read it like you would a western comic!)

Reminder: [Dialogue like this is English!]

EPISODE 5, LESSGO! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

It was a bit of a long flight between the bone-eater’s well and the spot where Luna last left her sister and her friends.

They were still headed northeast, still trying to find Naraku. But Luna’s supply of ammunition only lasted so long, and she decided she probably needed more medical supplies if they were all gonna make it past this war with Naraku. So she’d gone back to the modern era for a few days, and called Alice to get her connections with other Hunters in Japan—so Luna could make more Sacred Salt rounds without having to explain to international customs why she was getting a bunch of empty shotgun shells, non-native herbs, and a few other assorted (weird) things she needed.

So she’d gone home for a few days. Thankfully, she didn’t have to walk; Airisu (who still objected to Luna calling her ‘Alice’, but agreed to the simple nickname ‘Ai’) in full demon form could fly pretty fast, but she ran out of steam after about an hour. It took them a full day (including rest time) to get back to the village, and the same on the way back.

But before they joined back up with their friends, Luna had a stop to make.

It ain’t hard to miss, she thought snarkily, he’s like a damn homing beacon.

Finally, among all the green of the forests, she spotted a speck of white. Easy. “There they are!”

Ai set them down just behind the little group of travelers—Rin, the little imp Jaken, the big horse-dragon (Ah-Un, Luna believed?), and heading the line was, of course, Lord Fussy Britches himself. Rin spotted them before they touched down, and greeted delightfully:

“Miss Luna!”

The Hunter’s arrival brought the others to a halt, and for some reason, Luna found a very smug satisfaction in the incredibly irritated, over-the-shoulder side eye she got from Sesshomaru. But she paid him no mind; she was here for Rin.

Luna held out her hand, unfolding her fingers to reveal three beautiful pearls, strung on a little leather cord. Each of them glinted with an odd pink sheen and were warm to the touch; anyone with any sort of spiritual senses might’ve picked up on the soft energy radiating from them.

Luna tied the cord tightly at the ends and moved to slip it over the little girl’s head.

“As if she would ever need such a ridiculous thing!”

Luna swore one of these days, she was gonna drop kick that little frog. “Look, dude—”

“It’s Jaken, insolent human!”

“—I’m just looking out for her. No need to burst a blood vessel.”

“What is she to you?”

Luna was actually shocked to be addressed by Sesshomaru himself. He was still giving her the side eye, but there was less irritation and more of… something Luna couldn’t place. Maybe she was flirting with death, but she couldn’t resist.

She stood tall, chin high, and responded: “What is she to you?”

There was the anger: contained, but frigid and harsh as the Arctic behind those amber eyes. Sesshomaru did not answer her, but Jaken sure did.

“How dare you, human! Your nerve is surpassed only by your stupidity to speak to Lord Sesshomaru that way! Surely you wish for death!”

Only sometimes. “Can it, Kermit!” She snapped at him, “I ask because he’s always leaving her alone, with nothing but you to protect her! You, who are half her size and don’t have much in the way of defense!” She moved her challenging gaze to Sesshomaru again, steadfast. “So I ask again, what is she to you, if you leave her with barely any protection so often? Because to me, she’s a friend and I care about her, so I brought her these as a last resort option, in case you’re not around and she needs help.”

There it was, that unreadable expression again. Sesshomaru was definitely incomparable at hiding his true emotions—something Luna could absolutely not stand. Tense silence hung in the air for a moment, before Luna shrugged, holding her hands up.

“Hey, think of it this way,” She said, trying a sly little smile, “You’re a busy guy. It’s one less thing you have to worry about. And if she never needs them, at least it’s a pretty necklace.”

Man, this guy was good at keeping quiet. But now, the icy glare was gone. Luna swore she could see just the tiniest arc of a silver eyebrow before the demon turned back around on the path they’d all been heading.

“Jaken, let’s go.”

Flabbergasted, Jaken tripped over himself trying to follow. “Y-yes milord!”

Grinning, Luna got back down to Rin’s level. “You take care, okay kid?”

“I will! And thank you so much for these— I don’t think I’ll need them because Lord Sesshomaru always comes to save me, but I’ll wear them anyway!”

“That’s all I ask,” This little angel was definitely gonna need it at some point. “But if you do need me, I’ll always be there for you, okay? I promise.”

The smile on Rin’s face could’ve melted the ice caps. “Thank you.”

Luna stopped her as she started to leave. “Hold on, one more thing. Each one only works once before it shatters, so you gotta save them for when you’re really in trouble, okay?”

“Okay, I will! Bye, Miss Luna!” Rin grinned, waving at her friend before hurrying after the demons.

Luna chuckled, turning back to Ai for a second before something occurred to her. “Hey, Sesshomaru!”

He didn’t turn to look at her this time, but he did pause in his walking.

Good enough. “I heard there was something going down in the Northeast—direction of the Ox and Tiger. Something to do with Naraku. Thought you might like to know.” She didn’t wait to see if he heard or registered what she said; she just hopped back on Ai’s back, and the two of them took off.

“I hope you know conflating bravery with stupid pride is more than likely to get you killed one of these days.” Ai said as she lifted into the sky.

“Oh most definitely,” Luna laughed. “But as much of a pompous man-child as he is, you can tell he cares for that girl more than he’s willing to admit.”

“That may be, but he’ll definitely kill you if you keep disrespecting him.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, for Rin’s sake.” Luna’s voice was soft, carried off by the wind. “That little angel’s been through enough, she deserves someone in her corner.”

~    ~    ~

Finally catching sight of their friends again was a bit of a relief for both Luna and Ai. It had been a long couple of days, going all the way home and coming back. Part of Luna hoped they’d get just a little bit of rest before whatever shit hit the fan next, but another part knew the odds on that were pretty low. Still, it was nice to be back.

Kagome was the first to spot them as they flew in. “It’s Luna!”

“Luna’s back!” Shippo proclaimed joyfully.

“Hey, y’all,” Luna greeted as Ai touched down. She hopped off the demon’s back as her friends offered their greetings. “What’d I miss?” She asked.

Miroku was the one to answer. “Quite a lot. It seems that we may encounter a new enemy: the local villagers recently informed us of a group of mercenaries called the Band of Seven. The villagers believe these ruthless killers may have been brought back from the dead.”

With a grin on her face, Luna shrugged at the idea. “Undead mercs, huh? Nothin’ we can’t handle.” She held up her fist for her sister to bump it, and as Ai changed back to her human form, Luna noticed their little group was smaller than it should’ve been. “Where’s Sango?”

Kagome bumped fists with her sister, smiling at Luna’s nonchalant comment. “She went off with Kilala. I sensed a Jewel Shard nearby earlier… so I think she may have gone to look for Kohaku.”

Luna didn’t have time to respond. Off in the distance, she heard the distinctive echo of a sound she was all too familiar with.

Inuyasha hopped up onto a tree limb, hoping to get a look at what was happening. He couldn’t see it, but he sure as hell could smell it. “And it ain’t from just a handful of people, either.”

So much for a second to rest, Luna chuckled to herself as she tightened the straps on her backpack and immediately kicked into gear. “What’re we waiting for, then?”

And off they were, charging headlong into danger as always. Luna could sense something was up; more so than usual. The stench of blood was never a good sign in the first place, but there was something else setting off warning bells. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.

The smell got stronger and stronger, until… they reached its source. Despite the amount of nasty shit she’d seen in her ten years of hunting supernatural monsters, there were some things that still turned her stomach, and seeing a single human being standing in a veritable ring of blood and gore was definitely one of them. His black hair was pulled into a twist; his lips were painted red, he had blue tattoos like tear tracks under each eye, and one side of his kimono was tucked up under his belt. The dude was just squatting in the middle of the carnage, eyeballing the barrel of a matchlock gun like it was his first time seeing one (which, hell, it might be, she thought to herself; in this time, they would’ve only recently been invented). He seemed completely unbothered by the dozen and a half bodies of freshly murdered warriors and their horses surrounding him.

Inuyasha was the one to get to the scene just ahead of the others, calling back over his shoulder: “Stay back! Don’t come over here!”

Instinctively, Luna remained in front of her sister, her arm out to try and block her view. Her stomach was churning, and her hand was poised to pull her gun if needed. No way this guy could be human… right?

“Did… that one person do all this?” Kagome’s voice was a shocked whisper.

It was then that the guy in the middle noticed them. He stood, his sword over his shoulder and his head cocked slightly to the side.

“Are you the one I’ve been looking for?” He asked, a grin on his face as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “Are you Inuyasha?!”

“Got a bad feeling about this.” Luna mumbled, “That guy isn't a demon, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Kagome uttered back to her, “I don’t sense a demonic aura….”

“How’d you know my name?!” Inuyasha demanded.

He got no answer out of the guy with the sword. Instead, the guy squealed: “You’re adorable!”

A dumbfounded silence fell over the group. Luna glanced around at the others to make sure she didn’t just lose her mind—but no, the general consensus among her friends was along the lines of ‘what the actual fuck?’

“I especially love those fuzzy ears of yours!” The guy continued, licking his lips. “I want them~”

Alright, so this guy was nuts. Luna had had enough of ignoring the bad vibe she was picking up from him. She dropped her bag next to Kagome’s bike and readied herself for a fight: detached the ammo bag and shotgun holster from her pack and slung them over her shoulder, slipped her short sword through one of the belt loops on her jeans, and pulled her shotgun to make sure it was in hand and loaded. She kept her eyes moving back and forth between Inuyasha and the dude with the sword during the next exchange:

“Who are you?” Inuyasha demanded, “What are you after? You don’t smell like a living person, you reek like corpses and graveyard soil!”

No answer.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said in realization: “Could he be—?”

“Yep,” Inuyasha confirmed, before calling out to the guy with the sword again: “Some villagers were talking! They said some disgusting specter rose up from the grave. That’d be you, I presume!”

Right, zombies, Luna thought to herself; if he really is undead, the Sacred Salt won’t do as much as it would a demon… It’d sting, but what I really need is-… She smirked and holstered her gun again, grabbing a different weapon from the bottom of her bag.

“Are you one of the Band of Seven?!” Miroku asked of the specter as Luna was tuning back in. “Answer me!”

After a long pause as the specter seemed to size the monk up, his response was even worse than before. “Inuyasha really is good looking, but you’re pretty sexy yourself~”

Luna snorted so hard she thought she was gonna eject her brain through her nose. Ai whacked her in the arm as a warning.

“No one minds if I suck him up, do they?” Miroku grumbled.

“No.” Inuyasha said, flatly.

“Hold on!” Kagome said, “He’s got a Sacred Jewel Shard! He must’ve been revived with the power of the Shard!”

“So that was what I was sensing,” Luna mumbled, “but why does it feel off...?”

“Where’d you get the Jewel Shard?!” Inuyasha once again attempted to pose a question to their opponent, only to once again receive a weird, adoring response:

“You know, you’re cute when you’re angry~!”

“Shut up!” Inuyasha shouted, jumping forward and drawing his sword. “Alright, dead man, you’d better start talking to me, and I want real answers!”

The expression on the specter’s face shifted from one of reverence to one more sadistic as he regarded Tetsusaiga. “That’s an interesting sword you have there… let’s see whose is stronger.” He lifted his own sword, making an odd motion around his head and shoulders with it as if he were gearing up for something. “Yours or mine?!”

When he brought his arm down, something that looked almost like a bolt of silver lightning shot from his blade. Inuyasha barely had the chance to block it as it cut an arc through the air toward him.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome called out in surprise.

“Stay back!” Miroku threw his arm out in an attempt to shield the others. “It’s some kind of trick sword!”

“That’s my cue!” Ai shifted into full demon form, jerking her head at the sisters and the little fox. “All aboard!”

Kagome climbed on no issue, but Luna glanced at Miroku, who made no move to follow them. “You coming?”

“I’ll be alright, you keep them safe.” Miroku said, resolute. Not about to argue, Luna climbed on the demon’s back and Ai leapt into the air above the fight.

“You gonna be okay holding all of us after that long flight?” Luna asked her friend.

“I’m fine, it’s the same weight as you with your pack on.” Ai sassed back.

“Yeah well, fuck me for being prepared,” Luna laughed, starting to prep the other weapon she’d brought.

Kagome managed to tear her eyes from the confrontation below to try and see what her sister was doing. “What did you bring, Luna?”

Luna grinned as she clicked the last accessory into place, then turned back to show her sister. “This? This is my baby.” She held up her favorite weapon: it was a fully-customized folding compound crossbow as long as Luna’s arm. She pressed a release on the side, and the arms shot into place, making both Shippo and Kagome jump.

“Whoa!” The fox demon exclaimed, “What kind of a weapon is that?!”

“It’s a crossbow, Shippo,” Kagome explained, “It’s kind of like my bow, but the arrows are smaller and it’s easier to fire.”

“Self-loading, too,” Luna smirked as she strung it up, “The ‘arrows’ are called bolts or darts. This thing can shoot way faster than a longbow, and since we’re dealing with Zombie Harley Quinn down there—” She grabbed a bolt from her ammo bag to show it to them, “—we’re gonna need these. They’re tipped with pure silver. Great for dealing with Vampires, Werewolves, The Undead, and The Unholy.”

Shippo reached out to touch it, but Kagome stopped him, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s safe to assume you shouldn’t touch anything Luna has in her bag, Shippo.”

The kid swallowed nervously. “G-got it...”

Below them, the fight continued. Inuyasha could barely avoid each strike of the snakelike sword, and his opponent only seemed to be having more and more fun.

“What do you think of Jakotsu of the Band of Seven, huh?!” He shouted as he swung the sword once more.

“Not too much!” Inuyasha came back at him with Tetsusaiga, but to no avail.

Kagome gasped. “He needs help!”

“That’s what this baby’s for,” Luna grinned, patting her crossbow. “Ai, can you stay out of reach of the sword but get me close enough to shoot?!”

“It’ll take a miracle!”

“Better start praying, then,” Luna lined up the shot, finger still as stone on the trigger. There was a familiar voice in the back of her head; she could hear her father saying: “Aim for where they’re gonna be, not where they are.”

I know, dad. She tried not to sigh audibly as she managed to get Jakotsu’s head in her crosshairs and pulled the trigger, quick as a viper.

And… almost missed him.

The consecrated silver bolt seemed to burn through the air as it shot just centimeters shy of the specter’s nose and grazed his arm, burning a hole in his kimono. He whipped his attention to the woman who shot it.

“How dare you interfere?!” He snarled, rearing his arm back and whipping his blade toward them.

Luna felt her stomach drop.

“You idiot!” Ai snapped at her, trying to fly out of range of the sword as Kagome and Shippo both clung, screaming, to Luna’s back. Just as the sword arched toward them, there was a familiar cry of:

“HIRAIKOTSU!”

And Jakotsu’s blade was then tangled around the aforementioned boomerang. All three riding on Ai’s back sighed in relief when they saw Sango swoop in on Kilala. Ai touched down just as Kilala did, transforming into her human form and unceremoniously dumping the sisters on their asses.

“Are you all okay?” Sango called over to them.

“We’re fine!” Shippo answered.

“Perfect timing, Sango!” Kagome said.

“Some weapon, Luna!” Ai huffed in the Hunter’s direction. Luna just stuck her tongue at her.

Jakotsu was practically red in the face, shrieking in frustration: ���What is with all you vile women?! Can’t you see I’m trying to battle Inuyasha?!” In the same breath, he whipped his sword again, toward Sango this time. The movement freed Hiraikotsu, and ended up leaving a small slice on Sango’s arm as Jakotsu pulled it back.

“Stay out of this!” He continued, “None of you will interfere!”

But their “interference” had served Inuyasha well enough: it gave him just the opportunity he needed to rear back and punch the specter in the face.

“Shut up! I’m tired of listening to your pointless babble!” Inuyasha growled.

Jakotsu grunted as he tumbled back, then rubbed his cheek and pouted like a kicked puppy. “That was cruel…”

“Oh, get over it!” Inuyasha snapped, “Now tell me who gave you the Sacred Jewel Shard before I have to seriously hurt you!”

Kagome and Miroku rushed to see if Sango was okay, but she assured them that it was just a graze; she was fine. Her attention was more on the subject at hand.

“I have a feeling that the shard came from Naraku,” She said, somberly. She looked at Kagome. “When you sensed a Jewel Shard earlier… it was Kohaku. I saw the Saimiyosho around him as well.”

“That means that your brother is still under Naraku’s control…” Miroku said. Sango nodded.

Luna had set her weapon down next to her backpack, and came back with a bandage for Sango’s arm. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the hell they were gonna handle this—first an undead band of Ronin, now they have something to do with Naraku. What was Naraku playing at...?

“Gotta wonder what the hell is next…” Luna mumbled sarcastically.

Seconds later, she would regret asking. A cloud of black smoke poured over the cliffside, drifting right toward them.

Like he knew what was happening, Jakotsu got up and collected his sword. “Inuyasha! You should get out of here while you can! Bye!” And with that, he was just… gone.

“What the hell—” Inuyasha broke off with a startled yell when the cloud reached him. “Its poison!”

“But where’s it coming from?!” Miroku wondered.

“We need to move.” Luna reassembled her bag in less than thirty seconds—side effect of doing it so often. “We can figure out what the hell is going on when we’re safely away from here!”

Why do I feel like we stepped into something huge here? Luna thought to herself as the group of friends moved away from the cloud of gas.

[bbygenya]

nights like this 💖

fandom: demon slayer: kimetsu no yaiba

pairing: mitsuri x reader

ratings: t for t(iddies)een

warnings: lots of fucking fluff (sensual fluff??)

word count: 1093

summary: domestic gxg fluff because I feel indulgent

a/n: I think mitsuri is the best big tiddy girlfriend, pls fight me if I’m wrong

Bodies sweaty, the two of you giggle beneath the warmth of the sheets. Fingers dancing over each other’s bodies; naked and plastered with the sheen of sexual bliss. 

Legs tangled together, holding each other right there, as if afraid to let go.

Mitsuri reaches over, grasping you by the swell of your cheeks, pulling you close with the sweetness of a smile that makes one of your molars throb. Her lime green eyes meet yours, and she leans in and brushes your lips together gently. You smile, humming and pressing in a little more, stealing a kiss of your own, which ends up with you pushing her back and crawling on top of her, both of you giggling stupidly from the euphoria of love and being in love. 

After a few more moments, once you’ve both calmed, you lay in bed together. Your head pressed against the softness of her breasts as she runs a hand through your hair, gently. Petting you as she hums a song she’d heard in the latest village she visited while on a mission. Your arms wrap around her waist, eyes on the room around you. Focusing on every detail, every piece of the two of you that you can fine. Being a Demon Slayer is dangerous; you both knew this when joining the corps. But being in love with a Demon Slayer, dating one, was even more dangerous. 

Dangerous in a sense that emotions, the very thing you had to try to keep out of your battles and fights, would cause you to lose yourself and possibly get killed. 

Dangerous in a sense that pairing up for a mission could be a distraction; demons could use that against you.

But, the two of you have been doing well. It’s even harder for two pillars to be in love like the two of you are, yet it’s not something that you find painful or a crutch. You and Mitsuri both love the same—passionately, indulgently, and hopelessly. The Love and the Dragon Pillars falling in love was something that nobody really saw coming, yet nobody questioned it either. The two of you have always clicked very well, and being in a relationship with each other was easy. Other than the demons and the complexities and dangers of your jobs. 

❝ You seem to be in a good mood, ❞ you tell her, glancing up at her with a smile on your face. She stops humming for a moment and looks down at you, eyes softening. She just giggles, cheeks warming a rosy pink as she start gently ghosting her fingernails over your scalp. 

❝ Yeah. I guess I really needed that, ❞ playfully you scowl at her, which causes her to struggle to hold in the laugh that comes out at the sight of such a pitiful expression as a feign of a cross expression. 

❝ Needed sex? What am I, a piece of ass? ❞ you know the answer, but it’s fun to play. Fun to see how Mitsuri bursts into laughter, but reaches down to tilt your chin up to hers, so she can press a quick kiss to your lips. 

❝ Of course not [y/n]-san! Never! You’re my girlfriend because I love you! ❞ she manages, her laughter calms down a bit, though she greedily leans in for another peck. ❝ And sex is nice too, ❞

Laughing, you move to turn so you can scoot up, burying your face into her neck. Her scent is stronger there; she smells of flowers in the spring time and sweets—like home. She’s home, even when she’s far away from you. Even when you worry if she’s going to be alright, if she’s going to come back to you in one piece or a bloodied body missing the brightness of those pretty green eyes that steal your breath away. You hate thinking such horrible thoughts when you’re laid here with her, wrapped up in the bedsheets of your shared bed and tangled up with each other. Naked, clammy, smelling of sweat and sex. But you know she thinks of these things too; you can see it in her eyes sometimes. 

❝ You she-devil, ❞ ❝ Can you blame me? You’re so pretty and your body is so perfect, ❞ she gushes, hugging you tightly and tilting her head so her face buries into the crown of your head. All you can do is smile happily, because you just. . .really love her. The scent of love is so strong between the two of you that even one of the newer slayers, Tanjiro, has picked it up and asked you about it. 

❝ You two must be very close; I always get the scent of strong love between you both whenever you’re around each other.❞ Ah, the innocence of a child. 

Sitting up after a moment, you stretch and yawn. Reaching a hand down to rub at your stomach that growls lowly. Mitsuri hears this, sitting up to drape herself over your back. Throwing her arms over your shoulders and peppering kisses up the column of your neck to your cheek. You lean into her touch lazily, basking in her indulgence. ❝ Want me to cook for you? ❞ she questions, voice soft and gentle.

❝ Cook what? ❞

❝ I’ll take that as a yes, ❞ she grins, then moves to slide from behind you, grabbing her yukata to put back on. She ties it at the waist, pushing her hair over her shoulder and leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. ❝ You can join if you want, ❞ she offers, but scurries out of your shared bedroom off to the kitchen to treat you to something she knows you’ll find to be quite yummy. 

You watch her leave, sighing to yourself with a smile on your face. Deciding you might as well get up too, you grab your own yukata and stand up, simply wrapping it around your body as you walk over to stare out the window at the night sky. The moon is full, brightening up the villa the two of you live at. Crossing your arms on the windowsill, you lean against it and smile up at the moon. The sound of Mitsuri moving around in the kitchen and singing out loud fills your ears over and you find yourself sinking into the warm feeling you always get when you’re home with her. 

It’s nights like this that really make it worth it, and you don’t think you’d be happier anywhere else.

-x

[descendantofthesparrow]

Encore - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 23 - finishing touches

=

You hummed around your fork as the creamy buttercream hit your tongue, looking down at your lap that held your aunt's tablet as you looked over the concept art your aunt had made for your wedding cake.

They ranged from sheet cakes with black and red swirling designs to four-tiered cakes with black and silver designs with red roses decorating the top and bottom tiers.

“these are all so pretty, I have no clue which one to choose” you sighed, setting down the fork next to the crumbs of your once existing sample cake, you and Harry had decided on the flavors a bit ago, chocolate raspberry truffle cake with raspberry glaze and chocolate buttercream and angel food with light vanilla buttercream.

Tonks, your aunt, laughed and held her hand out for the tablet, you leaning over with it and placing it in her hand “that’s no problem if you can't decide right now, there's no rush since your wedding isn’t till…have you decided when you’ll get married?” you paused at her question and shrugged, you honestly didn’t remember if you and Harry had decided on a date, almost everything was ready and set.

The place, the décor, the flowers, the bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bridesmaids, and groomsmen all chosen, their clothes and accessories ready to be of use. the flower girls were chosen and their clothes ready, the place where you would have the reception at was chosen, the food at the reception was chosen, who was going to marry you and Harry (FG offered to marry the two of you, being the one to originally separate you she wanted to officially bind you together as an apology), who was going to give you away (your aunt), the archway you were going to be married under was designed, Evie said your dress and Harrys suit was ready, the guest list was long since completed, all that was left to do was chose the cake design and decide the time and day to get married really.

“not sure yet, I’ll ask Harry the next time we talk about wedding stuff” you smiled as Tonks gave you a grin and flipped through her cake designs again.

“im sure you’ll pick the best day, now pick a cake” she slid the tablet back over to you. You picked it up and scrolled through the designs again.

You finally decided on the four-tiered cake with white fondant and silver piping designs, with black borders and red roses swirling from the top to the bottom. “great choice, now I think you have a final dress fitting to get to~” Tonks teased, standing to give you a hug and waving you off as you walked into the back to go through a portal to the descendant's universe.

You stuck your key into the storage room door lock and turned it, the portal opening behind the closed door. You swung it open and stepped into the shimmering light portal.

A moment later you stepped out into Evie's starter castle, calling out to her to let her know you were there “Evie!! Im here!” you heard her call back to you from the greenhouse turned office and you made your way over to her. “so I heard that my dress is ready?” Evie spun in her chair, facing away from the light purple dress she was working on, and nodded with a bright grin.

“All ready! Harry's suit is done too but I’ll have him come by later, try it on!” she dashed over to one of her movable dress wracks and plucked a gorgeous white dress with billowy sheen sleeves, a plunging sweetheart neckline, and a long sheer train that flowed from the back. “here you go! Now go go! I want to see the finished product on you!” she squealed, jumping in excitement as you took the dress and went to go change behind the changing screen Evie had installed a while ago for her costumers that came personally to her office.

It took a minute or two to get into the dress, with all the fabric but it was pretty easy to figure out how to put it on. Finally, you zipped up the back and picked up the skirt, and stepped out from behind the changing screen.

Evie gasped and clapped erratically “O M G it's perfect~!!! You look so amazing!!!” you let out a small laugh and let Evie lead you to her standing mirror, gasping at your reflection.

(yes im showing the design again im so damn proud of this dress i want it for my own wedding if i ever have one)

It was exactly the way you had designed it, from the small gems decorating your neckline to the white sapphire waist overlay “Evie, it's perfect” your voice cracked, pure happiness overwhelming you “it’s exactly what I wanted, and dreamed of”

“thank you so much for trusting me with it (y/n), and it's beautiful because you designed it too, you have an amazing eye for fashion” Evie giggled, holding onto your shoulders and smiling at you in the reflection of the mirror. “you are going to take Harry's breath away on your wedding day”

You laughed again, wiping the tears from your eyes and turning, wrapping your arms around Evie and hugging her tightly “thank you so much Evie” she hummed and hugged you back.

“you’re welcome (y/n), it’s the least I could do for all I've done” you raised your brow and leaned back, about to ask her what she meant before you remembered she had helped Mal kidnap you to have FG transport you back to your world.

“Still, thank you” you patted her arm, twirling back around and admiring the dress again. “I love it so much.”

“im glad” Evie sang, walking back over to her desk and continuing on the dress she had paused working on when you walked “so is everything almost done?”

“yep” you chirped, spinning and grinning to yourself as the skirt and train flared around you. “it’s all done actually, all that’s left is for Harry to try on his suit and for us to pick a day and time”

“oh, the archway is finished?” Evie asked, looking over her shoulder at you. The archway that you and Harry would be married under would be installed on your new ship for your wedding, but you and Harry had gone through a billion designs before finding the perfect one, and it had just been finished building and all it needed were its white and red roses decorating the main top boards.

“yep, Harry and I approved the final work two nights ago, we’re basically ready to get married at any point now” you turned and walked back over to the changing screen, unzipping the dress and letting it fall down your arms. “again, just need to pick a day”

Evie clapped her hands in glee “oooh I so excited, honestly, I think im more excited for this than I am Mal and Ben's wedding” you laughed loudly at that.

“Really?” you tilted your head out of the screen, raising your brow at Evie “why?”

“I don’t know” Evie sighed “something about it being more…private? And it’s really just going to be personal friends and family with some extra people, right? it just feels a bit more intimate than their wedding which is going to be broadcasted across Auradon”

You hummed, yeah you were glad you didn’t have to deal with all that for your wedding, and your wedding, hopefully, also would have Carlos actually there, he had mentioned that the day of Mal and Bens wedding was the day of his very important-you can't miss it or you’ll fail the entire year-finals test for veterinary school.

Ben and Mal had tried to reschedule their wedding so Carlos could attend but unfortunately, everything was all set and both were unable to move the date. They promised they would have either Jay or Doug record everything for him so he could at least see the wedding “personally” instead of on the news, he would be there for the reception but he would be missing the ceremony.

“what month are you thinking for it?” Evie wondered aloud, the hum of her sewing machine overpowering her voice a bit.

“im thinking either late spring or early summer? So May or June. I don’t want it to be cold as all hell but I don’t want it to be so warm everyone's sweating?” you shrugged on your shirt and zipped up your boots, stepping back out into the main area of Evie’s office with your dress in your arms “honestly I dunno, I’ll talk to Harry tonight about it, we're having dinner at my place.”

Evie nodded at that and stood, taking your dress and hanging it back up on her rack. “awesome, welp, we’re all done here! So” she waved her hands at you as if casting a spell “why don’t you get back to…whatever you were doing or needed to do after you were done with this” you laughed and nodded, spinning on your heel and walking out of Evie's office, waving her goodbye as you stepped out into her kitchen.

“kay, bye Evie!”

“bye!”

-

A couple of hours later and you were in your kitchen stirring up the mashed potatoes as Harry checked on the tri-tip. “think it's ready yet?” Harry turned to you, nodding his head at the oven.

“just check it with the meat thermometer, if it's 145 degrees it's ready” Harry nodded, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the tri-tip, sticking the meat thermometer in, and grinning.

“145, we’re ready” you nodded and turned off the heat for the gravy, and uncovered the cheese biscuits.

“Okay, ill cut it up and you can take the veggies out of the microwave and pour ‘em in the bowl thing”

You grabbed a carving knife and a large fork, transferring the tri-tip to a cutting board and slicing it up. You worked in comfortable silence to finish your prep for dinner, the only heard was your knife against the meat and cutting board and the soft music playing on Harry’s Bluetooth.

“ready!” Harry called, getting out two plates and setting them on the counter, walking over to you and kissing your cheek “thank yeh for helping me make this darling”

“you’re welcome Harry” you hummed, setting down the knife and fork and walking around Harry to get to the plates “plate up! And let's eat!”

After filling your plates with tri-tip, mashed potatoes and gravy, cheese biscuits, and corn, your dinner was ready to eat. You and Harry sat down at the counter/kitchen window and clinked your sodas before digging in, Harry dancing in his seat a bit as he bit into his food.

“good?” Harry just hummed happily, and nodded, picking up his biscuit and bobbing his head as he bit into it. “good.” You laughed slightly and dug into your own food, humming as you bit into the tri-tip “good job on the tri-tip, it’s fucking bomb” Harry grinned and his ears turned red.

“Thank yeh, Uma taught me how ta season steak a bit after the barrier came down.” You laughed again and pulled out your phone to text Uma.

“well she's a damn good teacher, it’s fucking bomb” you sent a quick text to Uma telling her that she needed to teach harry more cooking stuff and she sent back a wink and a thumbs up.

“soooo” you and Harry spoke in unison, stopping to look at each other and laughing “okay okay” you waved your hands around “me first” Harry laughed a bit and nodded, leaning on his fist and watching you “so, twice today I've been asked when we’re getting married and-I realized I don’t remember if we talked about it, like, at all” Harry snorted.

“aye, Evie, Uma, an’ CJ asked meh the same thing, and yeah we’ve…never talked about when we want ta get married” you and Harry shared an ‘oh shit’ smile and you shook your head.

“well, when Evie asked me about it the first thought that came to my head was early summer or late spring, so like, May or June?” harry hummed and tapped the counter with his fingers.

“huh, May actually sounds good, um, weekend or weekday?” you lifted your feet and rested them on the sideways beams of Harry's stool.

“mmm, weekend? Mostly everyone will be free on the weekends” Harry nodded, and took another bite of mashed potatoes “maybe a Saturday?”

“sounds good” Harry mumbled through his food, swallowing it and taking out his phone, opening his calendar and scrolling up to May “um, so we have the 1st, 8th, 15th,22nd, and the 29th for Saturday’s”

You leaned closer to Harry and set your chin on his shoulder, examining the calendar on his phone “how bout the 22nd? That way it’s not too soon for anyone's schedule and not the direct end of the month” Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.

“that’s perfect, May 22nd it is, that’s when we'll get married” Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead “I can't wait for that day, my love”

“I can't wait either, I tried on my finished dress today and I just wanted to show you immediately, it's so dang pretty~!” you squealed, grinning as Harry chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“and I can't wait ta see you wearing it, I can’t wait ta see yeh walk down the aisle towards me and I can't wait ta call yeh meh wife” you forced down the burning in your nose and eyes and wrapped your arms around Harry, burying your face in his shoulder. “and I can't wait to call you my husband, and love you for the rest of my life” Harry hugged you back tightly, pulling you into his lap and pressing his cheek to the side of your head.

“I love you so much (y/n)”

“I love you too Harry”

-

“finally! I was wondering when you two were going to pick a date, I've kept my calendar open just in case you two decided to say ‘fuck it’ and get married on a whim.” Uma waved her hands about as she ranted, and you hid your smile behind your glass and took a sip of your (drink)

“Yeah, guess we can also finally print those invitations now too” Uma hummed at that and set her cup down, tilting her head at you.

“well, the guest list is all done, right? So it won't be that much to do” you shook your head and took another sip of your (drink).

“Nope, just the design, and then printing, and everything will be ready to go, Harry and I already called Ben about using his private docks for the wedding because that’s where our ship is and he’s all for it” Uma nodded, moving forward on the table and resting her chin in her palm.

“so, next month, you and Harry get married~” you giggled in excitement and danced in your seat a bit.

“yep, hard to believe it's been almost a year since we got engaged, I feel like it's only been a month” you wished wistfully, a dreamy smile on your face “when I arrived on the isle, I never thought that Harry and I would even meet, then all of a sudden I was a part of your crew.” You and Uma shared a reminiscent smile, it had happened oh so long ago, all the way back in 2017 after D2 had released, and now it was 2021 and you were engaged to Harry freaking Hook, Uma was one of your best friends, Gil the other best friend, and you could travel from your world to the descendant's world.

It was like a dream come true, and if it was just a dream?

You hoped you would never wake up.

-end of part 23-

I know these wedding planning parts are lowkey kinda boring but really im just trying to set up the wedding part(s) (if it seems like im dragging everything out pls tell me, I don’t want to bore yall)XD which is soon! It'll probably be posted on May 22nd and considering I've been posting like, once a month (im sorry lol), the next chapter may possibly be the wedding chapter but IDK~!!! But anyway thank you all for reading my dumb Harry Hook x reader that I started back in 2018 so it been like, more than two years since I posted the first part and for some reason yall liked it and asked for more??? Which like, my writing fucking sucked back then, so why the fuck did yall like it? XD

Anyway, just saying again that I will be making rewrites of part of your world and reprise, encore I’ll leave alone since I think it has okay writing, I might re-edit the first couple parts if I cringe enough at em but otherwise, encore will be left alone while the first two parts of the series will get rewritten. I will leave the original versions up but again, new versions coming after I finish encore.

Thank you! - R.Sparrow

(oh! also I designed the invitations~

pretty~ okay im done!)

permtaglist

 @queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license​ @verboetoperee​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @imtryingthisout​ @rintheemolion​ 

@jatp-rules-my-life​

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒

                                              (  ~ Sero Hanta x Black Female                                                                   Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are only mild warnings for today; mentions of cannabis, Dubcon on the account that Sero is high, and slight dacryphilia.

SUMMARY: Sero gets jarred by a nightmare, so he smokes and watches over Reader-Chan until she wakes up. They talk a little and she soothes him back to sleep. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey there! This fic is part of my 100 followers event that I’m hosting in light of recently reaching, well, 100 followers.. I WOULD LIKE TO NOTE THAT READING THESE FICS WILL BE SOOOO MUCH BETTER IF YOU READ THEN WHILE PLAYING THE SONG!! I PROMISE, IT’S A WHOLE VIBE!! If you’d like to request a scenario, a song and/or a character, I’m MORE than welcome and open to do that! My ask box is open!  Thank you so so much for your support!

WORD COUNT: 3385

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

           “You’re not getting away this time,” was an ugly, disgusting voice that resonated in Sero’s head that, after a long series of nightmares, had him shooting up, panting softly with sweat sheening his muscular body, his arms hugging his legs to his body. It was 4:15 in the morning and he had to be up in a couple of hours, but he still couldn’t go back to sleep. He figured he’d take a day off and try to catch up on sleep that he’d been missing. He looked over at you who was sleeping peacefully in the bed. He admired everything about you for a long while, his hand caressing your face gently as his heart slowed to a healthy rate. He kissed your fawn cheek gently before he slid out of bed. Your soft breaths resonated in his mind and he smiled a little as he saw you take a deep breath and cuddle into a pillow.

“Te quiero, cariño. Duerme bien por mí, ya vuelvo. [I love you honey. Sleep well for me, I’ll be right back.]” He mumbled to you softly before he walked to your kitchen silently, adjusting his joggers a little as he ran his fingers through his hair making his bang run unruly as he leaned over the counter. As soon as he leaned forward in the dark, his head in his hands, he’d broken down. He’d been having nightmares from a previous intense mission for about a week, and this just happened to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Soon he was a mess of tears, his palms collecting every drop as he cried into the darkness of the kitchen. His knees were weak, his body burned with want to be a “useful” hero like Bakugo or Kirishima. He’d started to slip into a fit of insecurity while you slept in innocence in the room, the comforters like waves crashing over you and hugging your body. He let out a soft shaky sigh before feeling his way around the counter to find the coffee pot. He figured he’d be awake anyways, why not make some coffee for after his smoke. He gently spooned the coffee grounds into the filter, filled the pot with water and let the coffee brew as he sighed softly. He leaned against the counter again, grunting softly before looking over at a small box he kept on the counter. He grabbed the small container and a box right beside it. He stole a lighter from beside the set and he slid it in his pocket as he rolled himself a late night/early morning blunt. It’d been awhile since he smoked, but whenever he did, it always managed to make him feel more confident in himself, made him relax, and it made him overall just more laid back. That’s why he waited for that moment when he finally broke down to smoke, and he always waited until you were asleep so you didn’t have to deal with him as his insecurities told him you would. He walked to the small pocket in your room and the living room that contained a big beautiful bay window in which the two of you often cuddled.

From the window, you had a pretty secular view of the city and city lights and the sunrises and sunsets were absolutely otherworldly. He took his place, opening the window up while looking at the late night stragglers scurry along the pavement. He licked the strip that he had left out and smoothed it against the rest of the blunt, sticking one of the ends in his mouth, taking his lighter and holding it up to the tip but resting his head against the wall/ sill instead, taking the blunt from his mouth with two fingers and a heavy sigh.   “¿Qué estoy haciendo? [What am I doing?]” He mumbled to himself with a soft sigh before shaking his head and resting one of his elbows on his knee that was raised, his fingers tangling with his hair again. “A la mierda. [Fuck it]” he mumbled out to himself as he watched himself light the blunt with squinted, teary eyes. He took a long drag out of it and ghosted the smoke holding it in as he felt his brain get a little more hazy. He stared over at you laying on the bed as he forced his high. He flashed a soft smile before starting to cough quietly. When he exhaled, there was hardly any smoke left and he even looked surprised at himself. He admired the smoldering bud in between two of his fingers before he took another drag and hummed softly, leaning his head back against the wall again as he looked outside of the window, the sky slowly turning brighter shades of purple and blue. He knew it was getting later, but for once he didn’t care. He just watched you sleep, smiling subtly with a slight reddish tint under his eyes. “Mi hermosa niña... ¿Cómo he tenido tanta suerte? [My beautiful girl… How did I get so lucky?]” he whispered to himself as he took yet another drag from his blunt, holding it in until he got lightheaded and he blew the smoke out of the window.

“Dos ángeles perdidos descubren la salvación… [Two lost angels discover salvation..]” he mumbled quietly from a song he’d remembered you playing but he couldn’t quite pinpoint from where. He was too far gone at this point, but he noticed that that one line held weight to him even though he loved the whole song. He loved the songs you played possibly because you were the one who played them and when you sang them, you matched no other; because ‘music is the purest and rawest form of affection’ he always said. You started to hum softly in your sleep, stirring under how bright the moon was before the sun came up. You sighed softly and let your eyes flutter as you watched Sero smoking in the window, his slender fingers playing in the smoke clouds that he exhaled, that happy grin on his face, his squinted eyes as he got lost in himself and his thoughts of you. You couldn’t help but to notice how the moon and soft light of the fast approaching day illuminated his skin and this made you smile as you stretched in the bed still half asleep.

“Ah, see,” you giggled softly. “I knew I smelled somethin,’” you giggled as you watched him slowly turn his head towards you. “You had another nightmare or somethin’,” you asked as you continued to lay down and cuddle your pillow. He didn’t say anything, he just nodded and sighed softly. “Aw baby,” you say softly as you sit up and stretch again, yawning and rubbing your eyes a little. “Why didn’t you just wake me up,” you ask softly as you threw your legs over the side of the bed, adjusting the shirt that hung off of your body as you made your way over to Sero on the seat of the window.

“Lo siento, [I’m sorry,]” he mumbled softly as he blew smoke out of the window. “I didn’t want to disturb you because I know you have a shift today,” he whispered softly. “I just wanted to watch you sleep,” he said quietly as he let his arm reach in front of him, the blunt half smoked in between his fingers, his elbow resting on his knee gently. You made your way over to him and gently hugged him from the side, gently pulling his head against your chest.

“You know you mad cute when you get like this right?” You giggled softly as you ran your fingers through his smooth hair. He blushed a little and hugged your waist from the side, closing his eyes and completely relaxing into you.

“Honestly, no, cariño, that’s all you,” he said softly as he felt himself get emotional again. “Can you sing me that one song… Where he says.. Something about, ‘two lost angels discover salvation,’ sometime,” he asked and your mind instantly woke up. You smiled a little at the scent of brewing coffee sneaking into your room.

“That song by Miguel? Coffee?” You chuckle softly and sway slowly as you hum softly, always open to sing to your love even if it was entirely too early and you were low-key getting a second hand high from him.

“ I wish I could paint our love… These moments and vibrant hues… Love play, turns in to gun play, And gun play turns into pillow talk… And pillow talk turns into sweet dreams… Sweet dreams turns into fucking in the morning… Fucking in the morning…” you hummed softly to him as you felt his free hand hug your arm. He was getting glassy-eyed again loving how you felt against him so early, singing to him so sweetly as you tenderly held him.

“Sí mi amor, [Yes my love,]” he whispered softly as you sung to him, his head tilting back as his eyes closed. “That’s the one…”

As you usually did, you started skipping parts in the song to ones that you liked more. He hummed softly with you and he nuzzled his head into your chest as he took another drag from his blunt and listened to you. “Old souls, we found a new religion… Now I’m swimmin’ in that sin, that’s baptism... Pick a star in the sky we could both say goodbye… Old souls we found a new religion, now I’m swimmin’ in that sin, that’s baptism…” You looked down at him and his almost ashed blunt and you laughed softly as you saw how adorning his gaze was and he hummed with you softly.

“Two lost angels discover salvation.. Under bright peach skies watching the sun rise…”

“Dos ángeles perdidos descubren la salvación.. Bajo brillantes cielos de melocotón viendo salir el sol…” He mumbled softly with you before putting his blunt out and standing up, his hand resting at your waist before running up his shirt that you were wearing. He kissed you gently and slowly, gently running his tongue, which to him felt like cotton, over your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth. He bit your bottom lip and fell into a slow rhythm, gently and slowly leading you to the bed, pushing you down as soft growls left him and he ran both of his hands up your body, gripping your chest, kneading into your breasts slowly and gently as you started to grind into him slowly and subtly, both of you halfway asleep, and Sero now sensitive because of how stoned he was. He bit your lip again and tugged with his teeth, gently and slowly pulling away, kissing down your neck as your hands guided his strong hips to grind into yours. His eyes looked a little fogged over and distant from what you could see, but in all honesty, you didn’t care. You’d had a bad dream and feeling him against you was exactly what you needed; having him love you down while you quietly showed him how to take care of you while slowly improving both of your moods. The soft, crisp breeze pushed through your room through the opened window and it cooled you down as you felt Sero’s teeth against your neck. You whined softly and ran your fingers through his hair slowly, messing his hair up as his strong hands continued to knead into your chest, his eyes closing as he let out soft hums against your skin. It got to the point where you started to hurt with how rough he was being so you gently caressed the side of his head and pointed him onto how to change and help you right. “A-Ah babe, that’s just a lil too hard,” you whispered softly as you felt him lift the shirt and you shivered at the sudden cold air over your body as his hands eased up on the squeezing and pulling.

“Lo siento, mi amor, [I’m sorry my love,]” he said softly as he pressed his lips against yours, his eyes running over your nipples before he hugged you close to him and slowly and gently sucked on one, his tongue swirling slowly and gently around the bud making your back arch into him, your fingers getting lost in his hair as you let out sleepy moans, that song running on loop in your mind as he tended to you. You gently ran your fingers over his chest and under his shirt to tease his nipples while he cared for yours. He let out soft shuddering breaths against your skin as you pushed your hips into a slow grind into his. “O-Oh fuck,” he whined softly as he nipped your neck again, practically losing himself as he slowly slid one hand in your panties, one finger effortlessly pushing into your dripping cunnie making you push into Sero some more, your eyes looking gone too. You looked up at him and pulled his head closer as you arched your back into him.

“Please,” you mumbled to him softly. “Please give me another finger,” you slurred out as you clung to him and started to ride his finger. He couldn’t do anything but oblige, his fingers curling sweetly into your sweet special spot as he added another, his hand slowly thrusting them in and out sloppily as his body tingled with his high. “T-Thank you! O-Oh f-fuck thank you,” you whined out quietly, slowly maintaining a slow rhythm so you didn’t overwhelm him but you still got your pleasure. One of your hands clung to Sero, gently peppering soft kisses over his lips, your teeth catching his lip occasionally, the other hand slowly stroking him through his joggers. He trembled and let his legs give out as he leaned into you, gently kissing you back, soft hums and groans brewing in his chest as he rocked himself against your hand. He couldn’t help his shuddering breath against your soft shapely lips in between every kiss and nibble you dealt. The way his muscles flexed with every movement as he tried not to cum had you dreamy eyed and wanting more. “S-Sero p-please, You whined softly as you tried to close your thighs, the way his fingers pressing against your special spot having your back arched and breathing hitched and stuck in your throat. “P-Please… I-I want you,” you whined out softly, wanting so badly to cum while he had you impaled on his cock. He looked down and then back up at you, his eyes halfway closed and bloodshot. He stopped grinding into your hand slowly and let out a choked whine against your lips, his hands worshipping your beautiful body. “Can I… G-Go inside,” he asked softly, gently kissing your cheeks, your lips, and down your neck as he waited for your answer.  Even while he was in his intense high, he was still just as respectful as ever; even as his muscular body hung over your seemingly delicate frame that he loved so much, even panting and gasping for air as he tried not to cum. You, of course, nodded and gently kissed his forehead gently.

“Yes, Sero,” you said softly as you spread your legs for him more. “P-Please… I want to feel you inside of me,” you said softly and sleepily. “Fuck me back to sleep,” you said softly before watching his eyebrows knit a little. He pushed his boxers and sweats down, slowly and gently trying to line himself up so he didn’t hurt you when he slid inside, sucking his fingers clean as he hummed softly. “Mi amor,” he whispered softly. “I’m not ‘fucking’ you,” he said as he let out a pleasured groan, slowly sliding the tip inside, arching his back and throwing his head back as he suddenly felt the intense pleasure, wanting more, but wanting to go slow. “I’m making lo-love to y-you,” he whispered, soft curses spilling out of him as he slowly slid himself in, inch by inch, his body becoming even more tense as he slowly bottomed out inside of you. “S-So t-tight,” he whimpered softly, his pelvis catching your clit when he did bottom out inside of you, his eyes glistening with tears of overstimulation already but you didn’t mind. The way he filled you up, a small bulge forming in your tummy as he tried to adjust, you clenching down around him driving him crazy. His lips quivered as he stared at you, his mind running circles, his heart pounding against his chest enough to shake his core, frantically swallowing as he choked back his own orgasm. “I-I c-can’t move,” he whispered softly sounding like he was going to break down into tears. “I c-can’t… B-Baby!” He whined loudly as he slowly grinded his hips into yours, tilting his head back as he lost control of his tears letting them dampen his reddened, hot face. He looked down at you and watched the moonlight catch your body, not being able to rip his gaze away from you, watching how your face beautifully contorted as you grabbed at him in a desperate attempt to get closer to him, moaning out soft curses after moaning out his name, how you pressed your body into the bed. He didn’t know that he had this hold on you with such slow and subtle movements, but it was obvious he was driving you insane and he loved it all. He took in the sight in front of him, falling in love all over again as he towered over you and rolled his hips into yours slowly and rhythmically. “I-I’m so-sorry! L-Lo siento! I-I’m g-gonna c-cum,” he whined out after a fit of choked moans. “Te quiero... Te quiero tanto, cariño- [I love you, I love you so much, baby-]” he whined out, his breath hitching at the end of his sentence, his hips fucking into yours dealing hard thrusts as he tried to milk himself using the grip you had on him as leverage. “F-FUCK! C-CUMMING! I-I’m c-cumming!” He moaned out as he completely broke down into overstimulated tears. You whimpered loudly and egged him on, your legs wrapping around his waist so he could reach deeper inside of you, your eyes glazed over as you looked up at him sleepily, feeling him tremble against you with soft groans.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned out meekly, drowning happily in all of Sero’s sounds. “T-Thank you! F-Fuck! Thank you thank you thank-“ Your breathing hitched as you were filled up, your eyes rolling back into your head as you came and clenched hard around him. “F-Fuck! S-SERO,” you screamed out, scratching into him roughly as you bucked your hips riding out your high against him, tears of your own threatening to spill from your waterline. His body was twitching and trembling as he whimpered softly at your throbbing insides tightening around him over and over again. “You d-did so good for me baby,” you whimpered softly, guiding him down to your level, gently positioning him so he could lay on your chest. He was a sniffling mess, stray tears falling down his face, his eyes glistening as he looked up at you while you played in his hair and rubbed his back still cockwarming him. “My beautiful boy,” you whispered softly, gently kissing his forehead, slowly drying his cheeks of his tears as he tried to get his breathing under control. He tried to speak, but his jaw felt as heavy as a cinderblock, he could only sputter out soft mumbles as you continued to coo at him and massage his back and neck. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll call in later,” you whisper softly, gently kissing the top of his head, humming to him softly to lull him- successfully- to sleep as the purple-ish hues of the early morning melted into soft peaches and dim golds blanketing the both of you. You hummed softly and managed to hum yourself to sleep, just moving your hips a little to get him deeper inside of you as you slept. You loved the feeling of him filling you up, the scent of the brewed coffee now completely in your room making you slip off deeper into sleep.