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singswan-springswan · 2 months

Text

ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased.

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone.

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems.

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching.

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face.

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun.

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer.

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things.

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko.

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

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milswrites · 3 months

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Rosehall

~Azriel X Reader

Summary: Azriel gives you the best mating gift in the world by introducing you to the other important woman in his life.

Warnings: none just fluff :)

Azriel had always kept secrets. You had always written it off as it being a part of his work - being the spymaster of the Night Court no doubt wracked up hundreds of them.

His entire job revolved around gathering information from the unsuspecting mouths of threatening individuals. You were sure Azriel probably knew enough secrets to tear down entire courts if he chose to spill them.

But he wouldn't.

Because something you had come to learn was that Azriel was incredibly good at keeping them. So good, in fact, that he had managed to keep one from you for the five years you had been together.

There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel was keeping something from you. In fact you didn't need to be a spymaster to notice the mysterious way he would disappear from your home some evenings with a kiss to your head and a promise that he would return.

Sometimes he would provide you with a reason, a lame excuse that you saw right through, but you would still nod and smile all the same. Peck his cheek before sending him out the door, telling him not to be too long.

If you weren't as secure in your relationship as you were, you're positive that this would have been a bigger problem for you. That you would anxiously pace the floor of your home until he returned, smelling the male as he entered just to try and see if you got a whiff of an unfamiliar perfume.

But Azriel was your mate, and that golden thread tired between you, one of the bond that had just recently been accepted, meant you had to trust the male with your entire soul. And you did.

You'd busy yourself in his absence each time he left, knowing that when the time came and he was ready, your mate would tell you where he had spent all these secretive hours.

As it turned out, you didn't have much longer to wait.

~~~~~

Azriel had told you to get ready nice and early this morning. A nervous smile across his lips as he told you he was ready to show you exactly where it was he wandered off to every other day.

A mating gift, he called it. The desire to share with you the secret he held so near and dear to his hear.

You weren't sure what to expect or how to prepare for it. But your mate kissed you on the head and told you all would be fine, that you needn't stress and he would take care of everything.

So there he was, a fragrant bouquet in his hand that wasn't for you, waiting at the bottom of the steps in your shared home. Impatiently tapping his foot as you took the time to finish getting ready.

You approached him slowly, scared that if you were to startle him by showing too much enthusiasm at the prospect of learning his hidden secret he would panic. Retreating back into the shadows as he remained secretive and untelling.

"Shall we?" He asked nervously, gulping back some of his anxiety as he did so.

The male held out his free arm for you to take, allowing you to gently grasp onto him before he willed you both to be absorbed by his shadows.

~~~~~

The dark veil of shadows lifted to reveal a picturesque view. It was a combination of thriving farmland and lush forests, a number of rolling hills kissing against the horizon in the distance. It was beautiful.

And in the center of it all, the focal point of this idyllic rural painting, there stood a quaint little cottage. The thatched roof glistening under the light of the rising sun, roses of all colours blooming in the perfect little garden which was housed by a protective wooden fence.

Azriel noticed your silent appreciation, resting his hand on the small of your back as he began to lead you in the direction of the cottage, beginning to speak as he walked, "Welcome to Rosehall. And before you get too, excited the cottage isn't the gift."

"It's beautiful!" you said in amazement, it wasn't often that you had the chance to leave Velaris and the city - as wonderful as it was - didn't bare the tranquil, natural beauty that the landscape before you did.

You didn't need the bond to tell you that your mate was anxious, the tense grip of his hand against your back told you enough. Attempting to lighten the mood you joked, "I hope this isn't where you tell me you have a wife and kids."

He released a worried laugh, cracking a wonky smile which didn't quite meet his faraway eyes, "Not a wife but... well. You'll see."

The closer and closer you got towards the cottage, the more you were able to take in. The warm light which cast a homely glow through the sparkling windows and the curling plume of grey smoke which rose from the chimney told you that the house was well-lived in.

And there was a figure tending to the garden.

A soft, feminine form who was busying themselves with planting some newly sprouting roots into the array of pots before her. Her tangled hair, which was thrown haphazardly into a bun atop of her head, was the same dark colour of your mates.

"Azriel" you whispered in shock, shaky hand flying to your mouth at the realization of who it was you were approaching. Of who it was Azriel snuck off to see so often.

~~~~~

Azriel removed his steadying hand from the small of your back, moving towards the gate before lifting the latch and entering the garden, holding it open so you could follow him inside.

The soft click of the latch being enough to alert the woman, distracting her from her task as she raised her amber eyes to you and your mate. A loving smile crossing her face as she saw who her visitor was.

She launched to her feet, bounding over to the two of you before throwing her arms around Azriel - around her son - crushing the bouquet of flowers between their bodies which were tightly pressed together in their embrace.

"Darling! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon!"

Azriel cleared his throat at her words, pulling away from the hug as he began to shuffle his feet as he looked between you and his mother, finding the words to shyly speak, "Well, I thought it was about time I introduced you to my mate. Mum this is-"

His mother didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence. Instead opting to rush towards you, pulling you into an equally tight embrace as if she had done this a million times.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Azriel as told me everything about you of course" she chirped. Her hands, slightly rough from her years of labor in the garden, came to rest against your blushing cheeks, "But he never told me how beautiful you are! Cauldron darling you look as though you were blessed by the mother herself."

"Mum" Azriel groaned from where he was stood, embarrassed at the way his mum was doting on you. Yet he couldn't help the small smile which trickled onto his face at the sight before him, nor the way his eyes lovingly twinkled as he watched the two people he loved most finally meeting.

"That's funny" you said, shooting a burning glare towards your mate, "he told me absolutely nothing about you."

His mum tutted, her tongue coming to click against her teeth in disappointment, chiding her son for the lack of information shared between you.

"That boy i tell you," she started, pulling you excitedly by your hand towards the door of the cottage, Azriel following in tow, "So protective. He thinks I don't get lonely living by myself in the country? No, of course I do! I could have done with your company the last few hundred years darling."

You loved his mum.

It was an easy decision to make. The way she teased her son. The way she managed to get under his skin until the tops of his ears burned red in embarrassment. The overwhelming cornucopia of love which poured from her gaze every time she looked at her son.

It was easy to see why Azriel was so cautious in telling people about his mother. You had only known this woman for a minute and you were already sure you would be absolutely devastated if any harm were to ever befall her.

Her soothing, gracious persona was infectious. Her joy sparking a ray of light inside your chest which grew more and more every second you basked in her welcoming presence.

It was understandable now, why Azriel always seemed to come back from his mysterious trips away feeling lighter and more cheerful.

It was impossible not to be whilst you were here at Rosehall, here with his mother, and not feel the contagious merriment which hung in the air as if it was the very oxygen you breathed.

She eagerly dragged you inside Rosehall, pulling you into the homely kitchen, before pouring you a drink and hurriedly sitting down at the table with you, your hands clasped tightly in her comforting ones.

Silvery tears lined her golden eyes as she took you in. Her gaze didn't hold any judgement, instead it was filled with that same overwhelming surge of love which she looked at her son with, as if she was looking at her own daughter. Hands locked together with her own flesh and blood.

"I never thought I'd see the day where my little boy brought a woman home" she squealed, lip wobbling slightly as she tried to contain her overflowing sense of delight at the fact she was finally meeting you.

Azriel grumbled defensively from where he was stood at the counter of the kitchen, arranging his mother's flowers into a vase he had acquired.

"Oh and here I was thinking he used to be a ladies man. Have a lot of trouble with women as a boy Azriel?"

His mother beamed at your banter, staring between you and her son as if the pair of you were her entire universe.

"I was just waiting for the right person to come along. Luckily for me it was my mate" he uttered as he shrugged, coming to stand behind you. Resting his large hands on your shoulders, unable to sit down as the small kitchen only housed two chairs. A sign of the lack of visitors Azriel allowed his mother to have.

"Oh what a sweet boy" his mother snapped, a playful humour lacing her tone, "waiting until he accepted the bond before he came and brought his mate to meet his own mother. Did I miss the wedding too?"

You giggled at her words as Azriel began to sputter excuses to the woman who raised him, the headstrong lady clearly wasn't going to drop the topic of his prolonged wait to introduce you anytime soon.

"Please darling," she turned back to you, her furrowed brows relaxing as she spoke, "tell me I raised my son right and he at least got you a proper mating gift. Something romantic."

You looked up to your mate, his expectant eyes meeting your own elated ones. It was your turn for your lip to quiver due to the abundance of love which radiated in this home, squeezing his mother's gentle hands as you spoke, "He's given me the best mating gift I could have asked for."

And he had. This gift had been more than just Azriel introducing you to his mother, you could see that.

No, it had been Azriel giving you a part of his soul. Sharing with you his deepest secret, one that you would cherish forever as long as it was yours to hold.

There, in the cramped cluttered kitchen of Rosehall, Azriel's world just became a whole lot bigger. And as he looked to his girls, his two beautiful girls, Azriel allowed himself to relax. A tender smile settling on his face at the realization that he had found his home. His entire heart and soul belonging to the two women before him.

He was going to have to buy another chair.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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smusherina · 2 months

Text

yard work - chapter 2 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 3

During the school day, she'd ignore you as usual. Wandering the halls of Northshore, you'd catch glimpses of her but no more than that. It actually felt like you were seeing less of her than usual. It was hard to avoid somebody in a school like Northshore, but somehow she managed it. You doubted it had anything to do with you specifically. She'd been acting off since you'd had dinner at the Georges'.

After school, those days you went to Regina's house to do their yard work, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Gretchen and Karen weren't around. Regina had taken her mom's place on the patio and bathed in the sun as you worked.

You hated to say it was distracting. Partly because the whole thing had thrown you off kilter, like why was she doing all this all of a sudden, and also because she was hot. There was no question about it. Regina George was hot.

You desperately tried maintaining focus on the chlorine you were pouring into the pool, pretending you weren't all too aware of Regina lying not too far away from you, in a skimpy hot pink bikini, large sunglasses covering her eyes.

"Regina! Oh, that's such a cute 'suit you got, where'd you get it?" You were distantly aware of Mrs George stepping through the sliding door to the backyard. Regina muttered something in return. You didn't have to look to see Mrs George wilt at her daughter's dismissal.

It pissed you off. Regina didn't have to entertain her mom's every whim, she could be a bit much, even you could admit that, but she didn't have to be so mean.

You walked over to them with the empty chlorine bag in hand. "Hey, Mrs George." You called as you approached. "Margaritas?"

"Hi, sweetie! I brought you two some, gotta stay hydrated in this hot weather. All virgin, of course!" Mrs George winked and offered up the tray she had in her hands. You smiled gratefully and took one of the glasses. You were actually quite thirsty and Regina's mom made the best (alcohol-free) cocktails.

"Thanks," You said before taking a sip. Mm, strawberry and basil. Yummy.

"Just leave it there, mom. She's gotta work and I'm busy." Regina pointed at the little table next to the sunbeds before directing her attention back to, uh, lying in the sun. She sure looked busy.

"Okay, honey." Mrs George smiled, but the chirp in her voice was strained. "You just call and I'll be right here, alright?" She looked from her daughter to you.

"You got it, Mrs George."

Once the older woman had ducked out of the door and closed it behind her, you turned to Regina.

"You don't need to be mean, y'know." You took a sip, watching the pink slush move through the swirly straw.

"Excuse me?" Regina craned her neck in your direction, looking very uncomfortable. You walked around to the sunbed next to hers and sat down facing her.

"She just brought us margaritas." You said, continuing to sip on your drink.

"Uh, yeah, and I'm busy." She huffed before reaching for her own drink. "Why she feels the need to bother me is beyond me."

"She's your mom and wanted to do something nice." You rolled your eyes, already sick of her attitude.

Regina didn't bother responding. You adjusted on the seat so you were sitting on it the right way, legs kicked up and leaned back. You decided to relax for a few minutes. It was still the beginning of the school year, September barely just started, so summer was still lingering warm in the air.

There was a robin's nest in one of the apple trees. Red-chested birds flew around, from their home branch to the bird pool, to somewhere you couldn't see and back. Soon it'd be apple picking season. For the last two years of high school Mrs George had given you maybe more than half the apples since she didn't know what to do with so much. Before that, it used to be you and Regina. Picking apples, sitting on the branches, peeling each and every one and boiling them into jam with obscene amounts of sugar. Looking back, you were pretty sure doing all those things without proper adult supervision was like tempting a tragic accident.

(To be fair, you had fallen out of those apple trees once before. You were maybe twelve and it was the middle of summer. You'd lost your balance and toppled onto your wrist. Regina had nearly fallen herself scrambling down to get you. She'd cried more than you and you were the one with a broken bone. She insisted you pick a pink cast. She was the first to sign it, too.)

Out in the sun, it was much hotter than under the partial shade in the yard. You chugged the rest of your drink before standing back up. You pulled off your shirt as you walked to the patio stairs, leaving on just a sports bra and your shorts.

"Jean shorts are so lame," Regina said behind you. You turned to look at her and found her looking at you from over her sunglasses. Her eyes raked over your body, no doubt judging how much weight you'd gained since she last saw you without clothes.

Fuck. Not like that. That sounded wrong. You had spent a lot of time at her pool, both of you in swimsuits, as kids. A totally normal, non-sexual setting.

You shrugged, pretending her wandering eye did not make you insecure. "I like my jorts."

"Your taste is questionable." Regina scoffed, a little smile playing on her lips. "At best." She added sassily. You had a feeling she was mocking you.

"Thanks!" You struck a little pose, cocking your hip and blowing a kiss her way, responding in an equally snarky manner. You knew you didn't stand up to her fashion standards. Loose jean shorts down to a little above your knees, basic brown slides, and now sans a raggedy, well-loved Queen tee was not exactly high couture.

"You're not cute, jorts." She leaned up on her elbows and pushed the shades up to her hair. "I think I saw this exact outfit on you, like, three years ago." She pretended to think, finger on her chin. "So, when we were thirteen..."

"Yeah, you probably did." You chuckled. "You also called me jorts three years ago. So, clearly, nothing's changed, right?"

You both damn well knew a lot had changed. Still, she entertained you with a seemingly genuine smile. You smiled back before turning away to retrieve some tools from the shed. There was a gap in the fence that needed fixing.

Then, for the following week and then some, as if the past years of her ignoring you hadn't happened at all, she started speaking to you. Not at school, though, never in public. Only Kylie and Mrs George were privy to your rekindled friendship. You weren't sure if you could even call it that. Was it friendship if it was conditional to time and place?

You couldn't find it in yourself to care too much, though. You had your own crowd at school. You had things other than the Georges' yard work to do. Sometimes you went skating with the guys, picked up shifts at the shop, did chores and yard work at home, played video games, and on rare occasions studied. You had a life outside of Regina George.

So what if when you fucked up a trick and looked around all frantic, checking that Regina hadn't suddenly spawned at the skate park and seen your epic fall. So what if you spent your work hours thinking about her, counting down the minutes until you got to clean the Georges' pool again. So fucking what you wanted to beat the shit out of Regina in Mortal Kombat.

Maybe you did care. You wanted to spend more time with her. Was that a crime? If you could talk during the several hours of the day, five days a week, that the two of you went to the same school, then that want would've abated. But you had to wait. Sometimes there were several days in a row that you barely got a glimpse of her.

You sounded pathetic. Gosh. You hadn't realized how much you missed her until you got a taste of what it was like to have her back. You couldn't even remember what had caused her sudden avoidance back then. Something with Janice and a sleepover. The details had gone blurry since then. You hadn't even been at the sleepover, but you'd heard something bad had gone down. Something that caused Janis 'Imi'ike to switch schools for the remainder of middle school.

Sighing, you let your pencil fall from your hand. You fucking hated algebra. Functional math, business math, that you could deal with, but derivatives and parables and all that stuff? No. Just no.

You rolled your chair back from your desk and decided it was high time for some relaxation. You walked across the hallway to the computer room, planning on fucking around on RuneScape.

Before you could get into gaming, though, you checked AIM and noticed you had a message. From Regina. What? You click the chat open and see that it's been sent a pretty long while ago.

> can i come over? daddys home

You stared at the uncharacteristic message. You two never spent time at your house back then. It was always empty and you didn't have the same fun things Regina did. Mrs George had been a significantly better cook, to add. Your toaster oven tater tots and dino nuggies couldn't compare.

But, hey, maybe this was the start of something new.

> sure > when? whenevr is fine w me

That could've all been one message but, well, here you were. You jumped in your seat when she responded almost immediately.

> omw

Shit. You shot up from the desk chair, sending it rolling to the other side of the room. You shut down the behemoth of a machine as fast as you could, which wasn't very fast, and shot down the stairs. The living room was a mess 'cause you'd spent the last few days pigging out in front of the TV, playing videogames and eating exclusively takeout.

You spent some time in the pantry trying to look for a garbage bag, time was running out, before rushing to the crime scene that was the couch. Styrofoam containers, probably some cutlery, empty bags of Cheetos and whatnot, empty cans, all that flew into the bag. You wouldn't have time to vacuum, so you just brushed the crumbs away into the couch cushions or onto the floor.

You were almost done when the doorbell rang. You had collected all the trash, but you still had to put away some of the still good leftovers. Didn't wanna waste those since you could eat it later.

"Hi!" You exclaimed, a little too riled up to seem sensible at the door. "I was just cleaning up."

"I see that." Regina drawled, eyeing the garbage bag as well as you. You'd completely forgotten about how you looked.

"Shit, sorry," You looked down at your body and the unfortunate clothes draped over it. Blue briefs with little Spidermen printed on them and a ratty grey hoodie with a devastating stain right on your chest. Your hair probably looked just as bad. You hadn't been bothered to fix up your bedhead, it was a goddamn Sunday.

"Don't worry about me." Regina, with her hands at her hips, looked at you expectantly. "So..."

"Yeah, uh, just stay here," You turned and put your sandals on. "I'll put this to the trash and, I still gotta put some things away and then you can come inside."

Regina just stared at you. You pursed your lips together and hustled past her, down the porch steps and toward the trash cans. By the time you'd hauled the bag away, you could no longer see Regina on the porch.

"Regina! I said don't go in!" You ran after her.

"Don't be ridiculous, jorts, I'm not afraid of a mess. Gosh." You could hear her from inside, probably taking her shoes off. That'd been a thing at your house always, but you didn't expect her to remember.

"Fucking- fine, okay, just..." You huffed as you spied her saunter into your living room as if she owned the place. She slumped down onto the couch, the very same you'd slept on the previous night.

You collected the food from the coffee table and moved it to the kitchen. You gave tentative sniffs to glean if they'd gone bad already. They'd only been out in the open for like, less than a day. So it was probably fine.

"When'd you order that?" Regina's voice came from behind you unexpectedly. You turned to her, caught with your nose in some noodles.

"Uh, last night..." You wiped at your nose with your sleeve.

She walked up to the container, right up in your space, and also gave it a sniff. Then she shrugged.

"I was thinking the same," You poured the noodles into Tupperware and shoved it into the fridge.

"Why's your fridge so empty? Has your dad gone bankrupt?" Regina stepped in before you could fully close the door.

"No, Reggie, he's fine. I don't have the money to stock up like your mom."

Regina turned to look at you, a displeased pout on her lips. She'd always hated it when you called her that. "I fucking hate that stupid nickname. And what do you mean you don't have the money?"

"I mean I don't have the money?" You paused in pouring beef and broccoli into another container, turning to look at her.

"Doesn't he send you money or make someone do it for you when he's away?"

You smiled a little bitterly. "He hasn't done that since I was, like, twelve." You paused. "Well, he's always sent me money but he used to have my babysitter buy groceries when I was way young."

Regina's lips twisted like she was genuinely thinking. You continued, feeling weird now that such a weirdly vulnerable conversation had been opened: "He sends me an allowance every week for groceries and school lunch, but it's not that much. If I didn't work at yours or at the shop I'd be toast." You grinned as you put on the last lid, moving to put the last two containers into the fridge too.

Regina didn't look all that amused. She was still frowning at your fridge, the rather pathetic state of it. You could admit it was pretty bleak. Two-litre bottles of various sodas, microwave meals, and an astonishing amount of condiments were not a sight that sparked hope.

"That's weird," Regina commented. "It's like you're poor but with a nice house."

"Gee, thanks so much, Reg, that makes me feel so good and seen." You drolled. "Oh, you think I have a nice house? That's nice."

"It's alright, I guess. Mine's better." Back to her usual, unthinking and overall not-that-nice persona. This was familiar territory.

"I would know. I work there." You motioned for her to follow you to the couch. "I'm gonna pick your apples soon."

"Daddy's home now. I don't know if you can." Regina sat with her shins tucked under her, leaning her side against the back of the couch. You sat a comfortable distance away, facing her with your legs crossed.

"What did your dad do again?" You asked, trying to remember.

"I don't fucking know." She gestured with her hand. "Human trafficking?"

"I hear it's a lucrative business." You grinned, enjoying talking like this with your old friend.

"We should start a company. Who'd you think would have a good price at our school?" She looked so excited at the prospect of talking shit about your peers. It was a little adorable, but in the way that a man-eating beast was. Like a devil cougar or something like that.

"I think that's eugenics, Reg." You muttered, jokingly wincing. "That's problematic."

"What, are you gonna sue me?" She leaned forward, inclining her head cheekily. "With what money?"

"With daddy's money, you fuck!" You laughed. "What money are you gonna sue me with? Wait, let me guess, uhh... Daddy's money."

"I'll have you know, it might be mommy's money." She widened her eyes dramatically as she began to tell the story. "I did some snooping around, and it just so happens daddy might not be the breadwinner after all, because-"

As Regina got into telling you about Mrs George's strange investments, which she and Kylie both had been pretty sure were pyramid schemes, you listened keenly and watched as she spun the story. She'd always been a good storyteller, good with performing and making the room pay attention to her. It was a shame she'd started to use her powers for evil.

Sitting here, Regina George on your dirty couch in her designer clothes and all, listening as she told you about the most mundane things in her life, made you feel warm in a way you hadn't in a long time. Loneliness was a quiet thing. It snuck up on you and you hadn't even noticed.

You hoped she wouldn't duck out of your life again.

Notes: Written late at night. My eyes don't work like they used to before. Might've missed some spelling errors or weird grammar. I'll return to it after I've slept. Also, in case you haven't noticed, this is firmly set in 2004. This story takes elements from both films, 2004 and 2024, but time-wise it is 2004. Another thing, I changed up the chapter titles. Originally, the first part was the prologue but then I thought about it and it really isn't like a prologue. So, that was chapter 1 and this is chapter 2. Bye-bye, party people.

Taglist: One person asked for this lmao, but I am but a servant of the people. Comment on this post if you wanna be tagged on the next part when it comes out. Disclaimer! Chapters will not usually come out this fast.

@autorasexy

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls 2004 #mean girls fanfic #mean girls x reader #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #reader insert #no use of y/n #regina george #lesbian regina george #fic: yard work

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sundaycentric · 5 months

Text

⌢ ⌢ yandere gojo x gn reader

␥ content — yandere, drabble, sfw, predator/prey ?, forced proximity, forced dependency, gojo is a bitch, gojo gets someone to (attempt to) hurt you, gojo treats you like a naive pet ... 760 words

Your feet ache. It feels like they are bleeding, and each time your heel hits the ground, you swear you can feel your skin tear and blister. Despite the pain, your desperation and adrenaline kept you running. You kept scurrying away, as your current agony was far, far more light compared to what awaited you if you stopped. Deep down, though, you knew you would suffer the same fate. All you were doing was delaying the inevitable: when he caught you.

Gojo never cared much for your pathetic attempts at escaping. You'd normally never get far, as he would always be able to you before you could truly begin running. Gojo would let you feel like you finally were about to do it, before shattering your dreams and taking you in his arms once more. He only laughed as you cried, and paid no mind to your weak hands hitting his chest. You were nothing compared to his strength, and no amount of fighting could get him away.

That is until you slipped away this morning. Somehow, Gojo didn't know that you were running away. Miraculously, his attention was elsewhere, and you could tell it was something serious. At least, more serious than you, since he hadn't been pestering you as much. You took your chances, and you ran. You could actually make it this time.

You didn't doubt that Gojo noticed your absence within a few minutes of you being gone, so you had to waste no time. You quickly stumbled around the buildings, taking you to the outskirts where only forest and sparse houses remained. You had left no trace of your direction, as far as you could tell, so there was no way he'd be able to trace you down. You wouldn't run into him.

But you would run into other people. Your aching feet forced you to slow down slightly. You panted slightly, making sure to survey the surroundings around you. That's when you spot someone. It wasn't Gojo. They turned around and noticed you pretty quickly. You softly smiled: perhaps they'd help you. You stumbled closer to them, desperate for some sort of shelter to hide in temporarily.

They smiled back as you came closer. You opened your mouth to speak before falling silent. They had a knife and had brought it up to you. It rested on your shoulder, the blade staring at your neck. They tightly gripped onto your weak, exhausted body. You couldn't move: you were overpowered, tired, and in shock. The person spoke up, "Has nobody ever told you to not trust strangers? You shouldn't be wandering around this late, especially looking so vulnerable. Don't worry, I'll make this quick."

Their smile grew wider as the knife grew closer. The tip caressed your skin. You shut your eyes, knowing you couldn't do anything as it came closer. Closer. Closer. And then it stopped.

You paused for a moment before opening your eyes. There was a hand around the person's throat. The one behind quickly through them to the ground and scooped you up. He caressed your neck, where a small, shallow cut lay. You recognized his hands, his touch. Gojo had found you. Part of you wished you had just died by the stranger, while another part of you was actually happy to see him.

Gojo hugged you to his chest before looking at the person on the ground. Gojo's hands that were comforting you gently cupped your ears, blocking your hearing for a moment. He said to the person, "You weren't supposed to cut them, idiot. Leave before I change my mind about staying true to my end of the deal." His voice was slightly mocking. He watched with a smile as the person left, before redirecting his attention to you.

Gojo moved his hands to your cheeks as he stared at you. He kissed the tip of your forehead. His voice was soft, but in a faux, manipulative way, "You shouldn't have run away. Do you see how dangerous it is out there? You're lucky to be with me, where I won't hurt you, yeah? It's okay, I forgive you. It was my fault for leaving a dumb pet alone without a caretaker." You only cried. You didn't know if it was from the fear of being killed, the slightly sting on your neck, or the fact that you'd been caught. But he was right, wasn't he? He didn't hurt you. Gojo loved you.

"You ran away because I wasn't giving you enough attention," He said. It was less of a question and more of a statement, trying to convince you that that was the reason you ran. He smiled wider.

"Let's go home now."

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museanddream · 4 months

Text

The Show || Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: Ona shows you how she likes to touch herself when you’re not around.

Warnings: 🔞 || masturbation, praise kink, bottom!ona

Word count: 2.4k

…..

“I want to watch you touch yourself.”

You see the exact moment Ona’s brain short-circuits behind her dark eyes. No doubt she’s imagining the scenario you’ve just suggested because her thighs clench together, leaving you to wonder exactly how turned on your girlfriend is before even being touched.

“Can you do that for me, beautiful?” you ask. “Show me how you get yourself off when I’m not around?”

Her cheekbones flushed a pretty shade of pink and her eyelids heavy with want, Ona nods and utters a soft, “Yeah.”

You reward Ona with a kiss, catching her lower lip between your teeth to pull another soft moan from her throat. Your hands find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upwards, forced to break the kiss to do so but Ona lifts herself enough to help you pull it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and you’re treated to plenty of freckled skin but you want more. You slide your hands up Ona’s sides, enjoying the way her breath catches in her throat when you pass over a ticklish spot, stopping only to circle your thumbs over her nipples before tracing the same path down until you reach the waistband of her shorts, where you snap the elastic against her skin.

“These need to go too.”

Ona complies, thumbs hooking into the waistband as she pulls both her shorts and underwear down her legs and throws both to the side. She looks vulnerable, spread out on the bed without a shred of clothing, looking up at you with an expression in her eyes that seems to implore you to do or say something.

“Beautiful.” You appraise her body, running your hands over the smooth skin of her thighs until your fingertips tease at her hipbones. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. My beautiful girl.”

Ona shudders and whether it’s because she’s cold or painfully turned on, you aren’t entirely sure, but you do know that both of those things can be solved by kissing Ona until she melts into the mattress below her. You crawl up the bed and cover Ona’s body with your own, knees bracketed on either side of her hips, and press your mouth to Ona’s in an open-mouthed kiss. It’s imprecise but that’s what makes it better, knowing that Ona is already halfway to ruin when she hasn’t even been touched yet.

Your hands start to wander, exploring the vast amount of naked skin beneath you but deliberately avoiding the places that will provide Ona with any direct pleasure. You kiss her messily as your hands skate around the sides of her breasts, swallowing the moan that slips from her lips as you scratch your blunt nails over the ridges of her abs, before sending them right back up to her shoulders to start again. Your aim is to tease, to overstimulate her and drive her crazy to the point where she just has to start touching herself for you.

As your hands flit downwards again, dipping below her hipbones but still not between her legs, you feel rather than see the way that Ona clenches her thighs together, and you pull back from the kiss to smirk down at your girlfriend.

“Oh, is there something you want?” You can’t help but tease her. “You’re just desperate to put on a show for me, aren’t you darling?”

Ona’s response comes in the form of a delicious whine, her hips rolling upwards into yours, as much as they can while your body pins hers to the bed.

This might be your favourite version of Ona, lips kiss-swollen and long hair fanned out against the pillow, her dark eyes clouded with lust and barely coherent enough to tell you what she wants. It turns you on endlessly to know that you can reduce Ona to this state, that somebody who is so determined and assured in every other aspect of life can turn to putty so easily with just a kiss and a few dirty words.

“What do you want, baby?”

Ona is shy under your gaze, the confidence that she oozes on the football pitch gone in the bedroom, which is usually your domain to take charge, and you urge her on.

“Use your words, beautiful.”

“Please,” she gasps.

You reward her by letting one of your hands graze her nipple, and she arches her back into your touch, but you’re not satisfied with her plea.

“Please what?”

“Want you to touch me,” Ona rasps.

You lean forward, pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses against the expanse of Ona’s neck, stopping just below her ear as your whisper, “I don’t think that is what you want. Can you try again for me?”

Ona tilts her head the other way in embarrassment and lets out a whine, then murmurs, “Want to show you how I touch myself.”

You’re not cruel enough to make her repeat the words again but louder, and instead reward her by saying, “Good girl.”

You roll off Ona’s body but reach for her face, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back towards yours as you join your mouths together in another kiss, somehow hotter and filthier than the last. You lick past the seam of Ona’s lips and she welcomes your tongue into her mouth with a gasp, one of her hands coming up to claw at your t-shirt as she tries to pull you even closer.

Your hand drops from her face, sliding down her shoulder and her arm as you continue to kiss, until you can loop your fingers through hers. Then you descend further, across Ona’s toned stomach and past her hips until you can nudge her hand between her own legs, finally releasing her fingers.

You whisper against her lips. “Go on. Show me.”

You’re close enough to hear the breath catch in her throat as her hand slides lower of its own accord and you lift yourself up, propping your weight on one arm as you gaze down her body in wonder and watch the hand that disappears between her legs. Ona’s eyes are closed, mouth slightly parted, a little crease of concentration between her eyebrows as her fingers dip lower.

She’s touched herself in front of you before, but it’s always been a part of something else. Quick fingers near her clit when you’ve already brought her close with your strap, or shaky camera angles over FaceTime while your hand works between your own legs. Never like this, never with the sole intention of showing you how she likes to do it, with every movement under scrutiny for your own viewing pleasure.

And what a sight it is.

“Fuck, Ona,” you praise your girlfriend. “You look so good like this.

Ona finds a bit of a rhythm and you watch the way that her wrist works as her fingertips dance around her clit. Your own hand finds her thigh, soft skin over hard muscle, and you gently draw her knee up to give yourself a better view. Her hips start to move in tandem with her hand, rocking against her fingers as her head falls back against the pillow.

“Tell me, Ona, what do you think about when you fuck yourself like this?”

“You,” Ona manages to gasp out, sliding her fingers lower and sinking them into herself once, twice, before she withdraws and returns their attention to her swollen clit. “Always you.”

Her fingers are shiny with arousal now and it takes a huge amount of willpower not to replace them with your own, loving nothing more than feeling Ona wet against your fingers or your tongue. But the sight of Ona grinding against her own hand is still evidence of how much she wants you, even indirectly, and you know this visual will be burned into your memory for a long time to come, keeping you warm on those lonely nights when you’re away with your respective national teams.

You want to hear more about Ona’s fantasies when she touches herself like this, so you press her for more.

“What do you think about me?” you ask, your fingers digging into her thigh as you continue to spread her open. “Do you imagine it’s me touching you? My fingers, my tongue?”

Ona keens at your words, hips rolling against her hand. You have to clench your thighs together, trying to quell your own arousal as you watch Ona give in to her own.

“You touching me,” Ona tells you, her voice low and hoarse. “You fucking me, your hands, your mouth. Telling me how pretty I am, how good I am for you.”

“You are pretty,” you tell her. “Fuck, Ona, if only you knew how beautiful you look for me right now. So good, showing me how you fuck yourself. Go inside for me, love. Show me how you pretend your fingers are mine.”

Ona obeys, hand moving further down as she slides first one finger, then two into her dripping hole. You can hear the wetness as her fingers pump in and out, imagining how warm and tight it must feel, watching in wonder as Ona’s hips cant against each thrust with greater abandon. Each moan that slips from her lips is like a symphony in your ears, the sight of her freckled skin flushed pink and writhing on the sheets more beautiful than the greatest works of art. Ona is simply divine as she takes her own pleasure, giving you a hundred new fantasies as she gives in to her own.

“It feels good inside, doesn’t it?”

“Uh huh,” is all Ona manages to grunt out in response.

“Imagine they’re my fingers,” you tell her. “Imagine it’s me inside you. Me filling you up, taking what’s mine.”

“Please…” Ona whines.

“Please, what?” you ask her, using the hand not on her thigh to sweep away some of the loose strands of hair plastered to her now sweaty temples.

“Please let me come.”

“Such a good girl,” you praise her. “Asking for my permission. Go on, cariño. Show me how you make yourself come.”

With two fingers still buried inside herself, Ona sends her other hand down to rub frantically at her clit and it takes just seconds for her to fall apart. Her back arches off the bed, her abs twitching and her legs shaking as she rides her way through tremor after tremor of pleasure and all you can do is soothe her, running your hands over every inch of her that you can reach as you press kisses to her neck and collar bones and murmurs words of encouragement into her hot skin.

“So beautiful. So good for me. Fuck, baby, I’m so turned on just watching you make yourself come like that.”

Ona lets out another cry as the final aftershocks ripple through her body, turning her head to nuzzle into your face as she slowly drags her hands away and the climax subsides.

She looks blissed out, cheeks pink and eyelids heavy. You reward her with another kiss, slower than before but no less messy, mostly due to Ona’s fucked out state beside you.

“Did that feel good?” you ask, running a hand over her stomach, her abs twitching with the sensitivity of your touch.

Ona doesn’t say anything, just lets out a hum that sounds like an affirmative, so you continue.

“Cause it looked good. Fuck, Ona, you did such a good job getting yourself off.” You entwine your hand with Ona’s, looking in awe at the stickiness that coats your joined fingers. “Look at what a mess you made, it’s almost like you don’t need me at all.”

You know exactly what you’re saying and Ona, especially in this state of post-orgasmic euphoria, is predictably needy.

“I do,” Ona rasps, her voice a little hoarse from moaning out her orgasm just a moment ago. “I always need you.”

“You do?”

“It’s always better when it’s you.”

You go on as if to kiss her again, nudging your nose against her, but stop just before your lips can connect.

“Yeah?” you breathe into the almost non-existent space between your mouths.

Ona nods, tiny movements of her head as her eyes go cross-eyed to stare back at you.

Your mouth curls upwards in a slow smile, a plan forming in your mind, and you press your lips not to hers, but to her neck. You start your descent, pressing kiss after kiss against Ona’s warm skin as you go. When you reach her tits you wrap your lips around a dusky nipple, and when her back arches off the bed in response, pressing herself further into your mouth, you maneuver so that you’re half on top of her again, slotting one of your legs between hers. You’re still clothed, though your legs are covered in just a skimpy pair of training shorts that you’re pretty sure are actually Ona’s, and you press your bare thigh against the heat between Ona’s legs.

She lets out a gasp, her hand coming up to find the back of your head and threading her fingers through your hair.

As your mouth leaves her nipple with a wet pop and continues the descent down her body, she seems to realise what your destination is and lets out a keening whine.

“I don’t think I can,” she tells you.

You shift your position again, taking advantage of the fact that Ona is still relaxed and slightly spaced out from the recent orgasm she gave herself to reposition her legs until you can settle yourself neatly between them.

“You can, baby,” you assure her, as your mouth moves over her stomach, the lines of her abs and hipbones guiding you lower towards the wetness between her legs. “You did so well showing me how you touch yourself. Let me reward you.”

True to your word, this is supposed to be a reward not a punishment and when your mouth finally reaches Ona’s cunt, you’re ever so gentle with her. You lick from bottom to top, keeping your tongue flat as you reach her clit, aware that she’s still too sensitive for anything precise. Humming at the taste, you focus more on cleaning up the evidence of her first orgasm than giving her another.

“Okay?” You lift your mouth only to replace it with a finger that teases at her entrance.

Ona exhales softly.

“Yeah.”

“You think you can come again for me?”

Ona pauses for a moment, just long enough that you worry she’s going to say no, but she eventually nods.

“Yeah.”

You press a kiss just above Ona’s clit.

“Good girl.”

…..

Part 2 coming soon…

#woso #woso smut #woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine

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kakushino · 11 months

Text

First... or Fourth?

Uzui Tengen x AFAB! Reader

You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...

Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader Word count: 7,9k

Masterlist | Part 2

Just a few more miles, just a few more…

You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul.

Uzui Tengen.

Your husband.

One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying.

He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact.

Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he-

No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other.

But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order.

The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.

You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.

The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you.

You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.

Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.

You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach.

You couldn’t wait.

Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much.

What’s going on?

“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.

He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?

“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women.

You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-

In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-

“Lord Tengen, who is this?”

The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.

A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together.

Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?

Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back.

His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home.

“Lord Tengen?”

The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.

“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.

Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you? Who are these women and why are they with my husband?

“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”

And with just one word - wives wives WIVES - he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name.

“Forever? You promise?”

“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”

It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.

Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.

Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with-

Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?

You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.

“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.

Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.

In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”

The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-

“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-”

His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders.

“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-”

Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”

“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-”

You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.

“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.

And you weren’t immune.

You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two.

As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating.

“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.”

He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck.

You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”

He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.

But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.

"Tengen, breathe."

Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again.

More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"

His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.

"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.

Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.

“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him.

You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.

For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.

There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?

You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?

What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?

You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it.

“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.

You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open.

“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.

“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.

You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention.

Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.

It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.

Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.

The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it.

Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.

The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.

Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.

Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?

You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.

There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time?

Could you handle being the fourth wife?

You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday.

You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.

The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.

A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”

For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.

In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.”

He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.

“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”

He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”

You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.

Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.

“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.

Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.

You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.

The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.

You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.

The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.

“Oh, precious…”

Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.

“-ious? Precious, please answer me-”

You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”

He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you.

Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.

Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.

“Precious, please, tell me-”

The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.”

“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”

“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”

‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.

“Can I touch you?”

You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives.

“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”

Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.

The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.

His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.

He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.

Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-

His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.

His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-

His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.

You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.

And then there was a kiss.

Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks.

"[Name]!"

You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit.

Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.

“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.

The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive.

His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain.

Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.

You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.

“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.

His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.

Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”

Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.”

His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.

You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…

His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.

“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”

Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.

A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso…

Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves.

You flinched-

He made a sound of distress.

- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.

You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”

This is nothing.

The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.

This is nothing.

The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.

This is Nothing.

You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.

This Is Nothing.

Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.

This Is NOTHING.

You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out.

THIS IS NOTHING.

You vomited.

“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”

The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”

“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”

“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy.

His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.

Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.

“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus.

What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.

What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.

What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.

“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”

You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.

“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.

“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-”

The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.

He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.

You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.

“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.

You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?

At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.

An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.

You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”

“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.

That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway.

With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded.

Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.

“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside.

When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.

Something drew your attention though.

There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.

His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips.

The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.

“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”

His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.

“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.

You paused - and nodded.

One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.

Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes.

“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.”

When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.

“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.

You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.

“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious."

You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.

Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.

He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”

His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs.

Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently.

His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.

The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.

“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.

The thickly-wound knot snapped.

Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.

“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”

Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”

You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind.

He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.

“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.

“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.

“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.

He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.

“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”

“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”

“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.

You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…”

Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.”

He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.

His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.

You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.

“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between.

“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently.

The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.

“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”

The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.

There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.

Part 2

#desi writing #uzui tengen x reader #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #smut #angst #KNY fic #demon slayer fic #kakushino

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mitsvriii · 6 months

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"Nothing's New"

In which your partner is never going to pay attention to you, because they’re too focused on their dead lover

Bell’s notes: “writer bell goes too far with this fic-” im /j no ones gonna say that, angst powers pls work tho, like im asdlkfjawel;fjsd;jf;lska, i cant write dude, let me like, plan this out in my head before writing nonsense, LIKE BRO, feral over angst LORD, 100k likes and you get part 2 /jjjj, growling i love angst, MWHAHAHA, sorry ely, yuka, mhie, snob, and zee if you read this 😔😔😔, i listened to “IT Girl” while writing this 😋, got carried away with Ayato’s part oopsies, i believe Guizhong for the ladies but whatever 😔😔😔, cut out Wanderer & Childe in the end because i’m TIRED, not proofread

Story details: Ayato lowkey a bitch, scratch that highkey, reader has self-doubt, Neuvilette doesn’t mean to be mean he just ISSS, GUIZHONG DID NOTHING STOP MAKING HER THE ONE IN BLAME IN THESE ZHONGLI SCENARIOS, oh and I couldn’t be bothered with Xiao’s part like a quarter through he’s such a flexible yet straight character, it’s the way you can tell when I got lazy with each part, chance Xiao & Zhongli are gonna be ooc as i’ve never written anything but short headcanons for them before

Characters & Triggers: Ayato, Neuvilette, Xiao, & Zhongli; reader has self-doubt, mention of death, mention of martial neglect

Reader details: female reader in Ayato’s part is explicit. female reader in Neuvilette’s part can be interpreted with the way you read it. the other parts, however, shouldn’t have a specified reader type. reader’s personality, race/ethnicity, height, physical descriptions, or anything of the sort is not mentioned. if anything is let me know and i’ll edit it.

Ayato: No surprise the Yashiro Commissioner doesn’t pay attention to his new wife, the one that he didn’t marry first. You knew that he didn’t love you, and most likely never would because you were, in fact, the second pick. Actually, it was probably in the hundreds based on the amount of marriage arrangement offers Ayato had gotten considering he was one of the biggest figures in Inazuma. It didn’t matter, but he most likely picked you because your clan was a small one to put it lightly, so he most likely chose it, and you, because it wouldn’t be a hassle with the press. But of course, he would choose the person and clan that seemed, “easy”. It hurt seeing some of the people’s sympathetic stares, such as Ayaka’s, Thoma’s, and a few of the older women working in the estate. You got used to the lack of greeting from Ayato when he got off work, the lack of warmth beside you at night. You found it hilarious, although you were hysteric at the time as you had just found out that Ayato was off that day and neglected to see you, that he never, ever laid down in the same bed as you. It doesn’t matter no matter how hard you work around the estate, how long you sit up doing his work, which you soon quit once he yelled at you like a homeless dog, or even the distinct flower you made out of one of Ayato’s favorite sweets that he ignored. Not even a glance at your general direction, either. After a while, you decided to do some digging on his past wife, only to find out that she was in fact near perfect. Perfect reputation, perfect everything, to put it shortly. Shortly after asking Ayaka what happened to her, by pulling the sad, guilty wife card, you found out she was a victim of an assassination attempt that turned into a success. Of course, Ayato and his perfect wife would only be torn apart by death. It was poetic, and it made you sick. So what were you to do but endure the slow torture that you and Ayato’s marriage was? After all, nothing you could do could change how he felt about you.

Neuvillette: The famous hydro dragon, at least to those who knew his ‘secret’. His past lover, unfortunately, died before him, no doubt to his immortality. Of course, you would soon die, maybe in a few decades but, hey, it wasn’t like he would miss you. You could only wait awake at night as Neuvillette went to fix himself his own meal, despite you staying up to cook him one and await for his return from work. It’s not that was the only time he never paid attention to you, after all the man had most likely been grieving his wife for centuries at this point in time. So what were you to do besides stay and watch this man be emotionally constipated around you? Why did he even marry you in the first place, then? It couldn’t be because his past wife resembled you, and it certainly wasn’t because you both acted the same. Was it because he needed someone to cling to? I mean, you weren’t exactly someone who seemed to not fit the criteria of a compassionate co-worker who would comfort Neuvillette in his times of distress. Did Neuvilette only come to you because you were his way of grieving? It would make partial sense, to cling to the nearest piece of comfort to help with the pain of loss. It made you feel like nothing but an object meant for his emotional wants, but in reality, that’s all you ever are and will ever be to him.

Xiao: The famous adeptus long ago, had someone close to him. Shame they fell to waste during the archon wars, along with the other adepti. It was no surprise that everyone familiar with Liyue stories knew about the two of them together, which unfortunately included you. It didn’t pain you that much until your oh-so-loveable boyfriend got distracted by two kids playing with a Xiao lantern and one of her. After that, it only devolved into more. The lack of visits to your room in the inn, the lack of responses whenever you left your little notes for him near your meet-up place, and the extreme lack of thank-you-notes whenever you left Xiao almond tofu. It didn’t matter that you started to skip and completely ignore doing all of these things just to see if he would notice because the adeptus failed to appear in your room just to check in to see if you were okay. This behavior was unlike him, at least in the sense of him completely ignoring you. The only answer you could think of, that logically made sense, of course, was that he was reminded of his past loved one because of the run-in with the lanterns you two had while out in Liyue. So in terms, he seemed to disconnect with you because of the memories of his past significant other? You knew the adepti didn’t die peacefully, you could tell that much from the stories, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that also applied to Xiao’s past lover. There was nothing you could do about it though, because if you knew Xiao, he wouldn’t talk about her to you nor push her aside for you.

Zhongli: Guizhong. Of course, you were familiar with the name, everyone in Liyue was. Everyone might be a stretch considering the visitors and children, but the point’s been made. Morax and Guizhong were close. Close in a sense of possibly having relationship affairs but that was only explicit to you because of the way your lover would glace at glaze lilies. You couldn’t call him your lover, could you? Not with the way he would hum to the glaze lilies, the way his eyes would also drift away from you whenever you talked as you took strolls through Guilu Plains, and the way he would opt to tell stories of specific tales of his time as Morax, ones that included Guizhong in some way. It got to the point where you had to make up tasks that you had to do daily just to get away from the walks you two took, not to hear the different-yet-similar stories of Morax and totally not Guizhong. It was childish of you to be doing so, you had yourself convinced, as you couldn’t blame Guizhong for any of it. She had no part of this besides well, besides being your number one stressor for the past few weeks. It was tiring yet somehow for the sake of not wanting a glare or side-eye from Zhongli about his stories, which you never thought you’d get that tired of hearing, you kept your mouth shut, despite how hard it was. You knew it would only take so much more, though, before you said something about it.

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x you #xiao x reader #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x you #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #ayato x you #ayato x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcannons

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h00nerz · 8 months

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law of attraction!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: fem!reader x choi soobin

genre: angst kinda, rivals to lovers, law student!soobin, law student!reader, pining, kinda fluffy at the end

word count: 3.6k

warnings: soobin is a lil mean sometimes, veeerry suggestive, but that’s it i think

prompt(s): #33 — “i can’t pretend anymore.” #34 — “you’re all i can think about.” #49 — “i can’t get you out of my head.” “…thanks?”

requested: “hii!! i hope ur doing well <3 could i req 33, 34, 49 and 50?? thank u <333333333” — anon

authors note: haha another enemies to lovers! tbf it’s not my fault most of the requests were enemies to lovers themed. anyways i had been wanting to do a law intern thing for someone for a long time and i thought it would fit for soob! i got a lil carried away while writing this LOL i hope u enjoy!!

IN LIFE, THERE WAS ONLY THREE THINGS YOU WERE SURE OF. First, sparkling water is stupid. Just drink soda or water instead, there’s no point in pretending you’re better than anyone else when in reality it’s just that you can’t pick a side! The second thing you knew was you were born to be a lawyer. Arguing was in your blood, there was no doubt you were going to make an incredible attorney one day. The third and final thing that you knew for certain was that you hated Choi Soobin.

Freaking Choi Soobin. In the past, you never thought you’d be the kind of person to have a nemesis. The whole concept of having an enemy seemed childish, and like something that only happened in movies. But, then you met Soobin, and everything changed. You hated him, and his smug little attitude, and he hated you, too.

You know, there was actually a point in time where you didn’t hate Soobin. It sounds crazy, but there was actually a time you might have called him a friend. Back when you were just a baby-faced girl, fresh out of high school and filled with excitement for your first college course. Soobin sat next to you, and you bonded over your desire to one day go to law school. But, then he betrayed you when he told the guy you liked, Hwang Hyunjin, that he saw you kissing the TA for your class, and from that moment on, Choi Soobin was your enemy.

And of course, as your enemy, he just had to apply to intern at the same firm as you. He had followed you to the same law school, so it was no surprise he followed you there, too. But you were starting to grow tired of his ever looming presence. After you graduated, you wouldn’t be surprised if he got a job at the same place as you, just to piss you off.

After a long morning of sorting through the mess of files in the basement of the office, it was finally time for your lunch break. You had been standing with your shoulders hunched over for hours, and you were positive your back was about to break from the stress.

“Y/N!” One of the only other interns in the office, and your only friend in the office, Sumin, called out to you once you appeared back upstairs. “I thought you were out sick or something, where have you been?” She stood up from her desk and wandered over to you.

“I was exiled to the basement. There’s files from like, 20 years ago down there, it’s a mess.” You groaned as she followed you towards the break room, rubbing your shoulder as you walked.

Sumin winced. “Ooh, yeah. Sana was telling me about how when she was an intern here, she had to go down there once, and found a rat skeleton.”

“What?!” You gasped in horror, a little bit louder than you meant to. “That was like, ten years ago though, right? It must have been cleaned up since then, right? Because I don’t think I can work around dead rats, no matter how bad I need this internship.”

You heard a laugh from the corner of the break room, and felt yourself become filled with dread. With your jaw clenched tightly, you slowly turned to face the direction of the noise. There he was, sitting at the little table with a cup of ramen in front of him and his phone propped up in front of him.

“Soobin.” You glared at him. Sumin, bless her heart, tried to pretend she couldn’t sense the tension as she slowly opened up the door to the fridge.

“You know why they sent you to the basement, right, Y/N?” Soobin asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” You rolled your eyes, turning to the fridge to fish out the salad you brought for lunch.

“Because they don’t trust you enough to do the important stuff.” He told you with an amused tone to his voice.

You spun around, slamming the fridge door behind you. “Really? Remind me, who did Taemin pick to help him with the Park case? Me! Not you!” You snapped, jabbing your finger in his direction pointedly.

“Y/N!” Sumin hissed your name scoldingly, as though he wasn’t the one who started it.

Soobin’s smug smile twisted into a scowl at your reminder. “That’s just because I had the flu and wasn’t here. You were just his second choice.”

You had successfully managed to get under his skin--which wasn’t very hard--and were satisfied as you sat down at one of the other tables with Sumin. “Sure, Soobin. Keep telling yourself that.”

He started to raise his hand, like he was going to make some sort of rude gesture at you, but flinched and tucked his hand beneath the table when someone else walked into the room. You furrowed your eyebrows together, and turned in your seat to see who it was. His ears must have been burning, because Taemin himself had decided to join the three of you.

“Oh, hi, guys.” He smiled at you as he walked over to the fridge. You glanced over at Soobin over Sumin’s shoulder. He was staring back at you, with his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

That was another thing about Soobin that had always bothered you. Especially in moments like now, where he looked like he was seconds away from murdering you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, he was extremely attractive. You had always thought so, even back a million years ago when you were friends. His dark eyes and his perfectly shaped lips just did something to you that you were slightly ashamed of.

You swallowed hard, diverting your attention down to your salad. You could already feel your skin becoming hot, and there was absolutely no way you could ever let Soobin get even an inkling that you might be attracted to him. It was just all so humiliating.

“Y/N, Soobin, I actually need to talk to the both of you. Could you meet me in my office after you finish lunch?” Taemin asked, and you immediately looked back over to Soobin to see if he knew what it was about. His eyebrows were furrowed together, though, and he looked just as confused as you.

“Um, do you mind me asking why?” You asked hesitantly, looking over at your boss.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I just need your help with something.” He reassured the two of you wish a smile.

When he left the break room, you could hear Soobin grumbling in his corner. You wanted to ask him what he’d done to get you both in trouble, but you were also not in the mood to fight with him. Not when you had to go and face Taemin in just a few minutes. He said it was nothing bad, but you weren’t sure you believed him.

While you finished eating your food, Soobin stood by the doorway, huffing dramatically as he waited for you. Just for that, you took the smallest bites you could, which just made him even more annoyed. Sumin was clearly feeling very awkward as she ate her food, eyes flickering between you and Soobin like she was waiting for one of you to attack the other.

Once you had taken the final bite, Soobin stomped over, and grabbed your wrist to tug you out of your seat. “Clean up for her, will you, Sumin? I’m sure you already do that a lot.” He asked your friend, before dragging you out of the break room before you got the chance to protest.

Finally, you snatched your wrist free from his grip, rubbing the sore spot as you trailed after him in the direction of Taemin’s office. “Ugh, you’re such an ass, you know that?” You murmured.

“Me? You’re the one purposefully taking forever when our boss is literally waiting for both of us.” He snapped at you.

You don’t say anything else, worried that someone else in the office might hear your childish squabble.

When the two of you finally reached Taemin’s office, Soobin opened the door, and you’re shocked when he gestured for you to walk in first. Then, you remembered how much of a suck-up he is, and that your boss was on the other side. You shot him a glare as you walked in.

“Oh, good! You’re here!” Taemin greeted the two of you. “Please, sit.”

You obliged him, sitting down on the small couch across from his desk. Soobin sat down as well, and you immediately noticed his leg pressed up against your own. The same heat you felt before spread across your skin like a wildfire, and you cleared your throat.

“So, as you know, the Kang vs. Choi trial is happening next week. Now, Jun was supposed to be in charge of sorting through all the files and compiling them into binders, but his appendix burst and he had to get surgery.” He rolled his eyes, as though Jun was just being dramatic.

“So, now I have fifteen boxes full of papers that need to be sorted through… And I need to get them to the Court tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” You blurted out, eyes wide.

Taemin nodded. “I know, it’s short notice, but Jun claims he had been ‘busy’ and was ‘getting around to it’ before his appendix burst. So, I was hoping you two would be willing to stay late tonight and finish his work.”

“Tonight?! But—“ Soobin started, but was cut off by Taemin.

“You don’t have to do it. I’m more than happy to ask one of the other interns. I figured you two would just like the opportunity to help me out with this…”

“Absolutely yes, Taemin! I can’t speak for Soobin, but I would be delighted to help you with this!” You might as well have held up your hand in salute from how militaristic your answer came out.

Soobin glared at you. “Yes, I am also very willing to help you.” He said as formally as possible, but he couldn’t hide the slight annoyance in his tone.

Taemin smiled. “Great! I’ll have Jisung bring up the boxes, then you can get to work later!” He told you, which you took as your cue to leave.

Soobin trailed after you as you left the office and started to return to your desks. “I can’t believe he’s making us work all night to sort through a bunch of boxes.” He muttered.

“What, did you have a hot date tonight, or something?” You teased, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are you jealous?” He asked, and you immediately scoffed in response.

“Why in the world would I be jealous? If anything I would feel bad for whatever poor soul has been tricked into a date with you.” You quickly snapped back at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” He said with a sigh.

You hated that a small, minuscule part of you was happy he didn’t have a date.

BY THE TIME EVERYONE ELSE HAD CLEARED OUT OF THE OFFICE, you and Soobin had managed to get through seven boxes. It was nine o’clock at night, and the exhaustion, as well as the hunger was starting to hit you. You still had eight boxes to go through, and you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through the night.

“God, I’m so hungry.” You muttered as you picked through the papers in the box you were currently working on.

You expected him to make some snarky comment or something, but he didn’t. Instead he just let out a small hum in agreement. “Me too. Should we try ordering some food?” He suggested.

You nodded, then made the mistake of glancing over at him. At some point during your sorting, he had lost his tie, unbuttoned his shirt down to the middle of chest, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. His dark hair, which had been meticulously styled when he came into work that morning, was now a disheveled mess. There was a thin sheen of sweat that glistened against his skin. He looked way too good under the soft glow of the office lighting.

“Sure. If anywhere is even open.” You replied, eyes flickering back down to your box.

“I know a good place. I order from there all the time when I’m working late.” He said plainly.

“You work late a lot?” You asked as you pulled out a thick stack of papers.

“Yeah. I mean, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I just… I dunno, assumed that you had other things to do besides work…” You shrugged.

He leaned back against the table he was working at as he worked on ordering food on his phone. “Why would you assume that?” He glanced up at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess I just thought that a good looking guy like you would have a bunch of girlfriends and friends to hang out with.” You felt your face grow warm as you worked, once again avoiding his gaze like it was the plague.

He laughed. “Yeah, I wish. I’m way too busy for that…” His voice trailed off, and you could feel him look up from his phone to look at you. “You think I’m a good looking guy?”

You shook your head, while you started tapping the papers against the table to straighten them out. “No, I didn’t mean it like I think you’re good looking. Just, like, you’re objectively a good looking guy. I think. Sumin thinks you’re good looking. Not me, I definitely don’t—“ Your hand got too close to the paper, and you felt the edge slice straight through your palm.

You hissed loudly, dropping the papers onto the table. “Stupid fucking paper.” You muttered to yourself, and Soobin wasted no time rushing to your side.

“Did you cut yourself? Do you need me to go get a bandaid or something?”

“No, it’s fine. I just need to go and rinse it off.” You told him, trying to push past him in the direction of the bathroom. He pressed one of his big hands against your shoulder to stop you.

“Just let me get you a bandaid.” He rolled his eyes at you. “I think Sana keeps some in her desk…” He mumbled as he started digging through the said woman’s drawers.

You huffed, turning around to lean back against the desk. “You better hurry. I think I’m about to bleed out and die.” You called out to him.

He glanced up to give you that same annoyed look he always seemed to wear around you. “Maybe I should let you. Then I wouldn’t have to put up with you everyday.”

“But then who would keep you on your toes?” You asked pointedly. He finally found a bandaid, and started walking back over. “Admit it, Soobin. You need me.”

He didn’t say anything, instead focusing on opening up the bandaid. He held out his hand, gesturing for you to put yours in, which you did hesitantly. He had really soft hands.

You watched as he gently pulled off the tabs of the bandage, then laid it across your palm. He used one of his long, slender fingers to smooth it down and make it stick.

It wasn’t until he glanced back up at you when you realized how close he was to you. His dark eyes met your own, and you had the instinct to look away, but something about his gaze had you entranced, and you couldn’t look away, no matter how hard you tried.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, hanging his head down. He took a step back from you, and it felt like a warmth had disappeared. You blinked at him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, although you had a feeling you knew exactly what he meant, because it was the same thing you were thinking.

“I can’t pretend like you’re not all I can think about. At work, at home, at school, I can’t get you out of my head.” He confessed, and for a second the insecure part of you thought he might have been saying all of this as some sort of cruel joke, but the look in his eyes told you it wasn’t.

“Thanks…?” You played stupid, tilting your head at him. You needed him to just come out and say it, to confirm you weren’t crazy, and what was happening was really happening.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “When we were freshmen… And I told Hwang Hyunjin you were kissing the TA…”

Your ears perked up. Was he finally going to explain what that was all about, after all these years?

“It was because Hyunjin told me he was planning to ask you out. And I got jealous because I wanted to ask you out, but was too scared to do it.”

Oh.

“You did?” You asked quietly.

He nodded. “Of course I did. You were smart, funny, and gorgeous, of course I wanted to ask you out.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his cheeks tinted pink.

“And… How do you feel about me now?”

“I feel like you’re incredibly annoying, and sometimes you’re a bit of a know-it-all, and some days you dress sort of like a grandma—“

“Hey!”

“—but I also think you’re smart, probably smarter than me. And you still manage to make me laugh. And even though you do dress like a grandma…”

Your heart jumped up into your throat when he started walking back over to you, getting just as close to you as he had been before. But then he got even closer, leaning down so his lips were aligned with your ear.

“…You look like a sexy grandma.” He whispered in a low, sultry voice.

You immediately burst into laughter. “Oh wow, Soobin, you really know how to get a girl going.” You told him with a laugh, and he leaned back to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Shut up.” He murmured while you continued to giggle.

“Here, let me show you how it’s done, okay?” You wrapped your fingers around the collar of his shirt, and gave it a tug so you could lean in close to him. You didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting yourself catch your breath.

“Are you just going to breathe in my ear the entire time?” Soobin asked in an irritated tone.

You shook your head. “No. I’m going to tell you, that right now, with your sleeves rolled up…” You gently dragged your fingernails against his bare forearms, and you felt him shiver. “And your shirt unbuttoned…” Your hand traveled upwards to trail across his exposed collarbone. “And your messy hair…” You reached around to brush your fingers against the hair on the nape of his neck.

“You look incredibly sexy.”

He leaned back and immediately bent back down to connect your lips to his. He kissed you harshly, like you were the only thing that could cure his hunger. His big hands found home on your hips, while your own nestled themselves deeper in his hair. Just like you had predicted, his lips were perfect for kissing.

One of his hands let go of your waist, and you heard a scuffle behind you. For a brief moment, you pulled away from the kiss to see what was going on, just to find he had slid everything off of your desk. With it all clear, his hands wrapped around your thighs, and he lifted you up onto the desk and slotted himself between your legs.

He went back to kissing you like a mad man, using one arm to hold you close against him by your waist and the other to stabilize himself against the desk. Your fingers moved quickly across the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one until the shirt was completely open. As you started to trace your fingers against his abdomen, he slid the hand that was wrapped around your waist under your shirt, practically burning against your bare skin.

Just as he was starting to prod at your lips with his tongue, there was a loud banging noise, which caused you to help and immediately cling onto Soobin.

“Oh my god! We’re gonna die! The killers always go for the people making out first!” You wail, digging your fingers into his collar to keep him close to you.

He rolled his eyes. “I take back what I said about you being smart.” He said with a sigh, and you gasped loudly.

“Shut up, you ass!” You hissed at him, smacking his chest and pulling away from him.

He gave you a lopsided smile. “Kidding. Anyways, I’m pretty sure it’s just our food.” He told you with a sigh, staring down at you while his thumb brushed against your swollen lip.

You shivered. “I guess we can always… Finish this later, right?” You asked quietly. As much as it pained you, you were still starving, and had lots of work left to do.

He pouted. “Promise?”

You nodded, then sat up to gently press your lips against his. As you sat back, you smiled at his dazed expression. “I promise.”

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @exohclipse @ttyunz @i1l0-n4 @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @cosmicuwu @naveries @yeonboy @blaaiissee

other tags: @haohyo @gyumibear @heartsforhyunjin

#⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ 1k celebration #soobin x reader #soobin imagine #soobin oneshot #soobin drabble #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin imagine #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together #kpop x reader #txt imagine #txt oneshot #txt drabble

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tmblrcolouredpaper · 27 days

Text

The Distant Sound Of The Washing Machine

pt. 2 of Washing Machine

Summary:

Minho and you take a well needed nap and return to the familiarity of each other's presence.

Minho/ Reader

domestic fluff, cuddling, insecurity, assurance

word count: 1856

'Your hair is in my nose', Minho grunted, frantically turning his head from side to side.

He proceeded to sneeze and hurried to turn completely away from you. His body ebbed due to the sudden reflex and he automatically tightened his arms around you to hinder you from falling off him. Your sleepy whine made him halt all movements and as slowly as possible, he looked down on you.

'Keep sleeping. It's all good', he whispered and pushed your strands of hair down, away from his face and used the opportunity to lovingly pat your head.

He tried to get back into some sort of slumber, but he was already too awake. He noticed the bright sunlight that found its way through the gap of the curtains and the distant sound of birds told him that it was indeed the middle of the day. Your full weight on him was calming and despite the warm spring temperature outside, he was still able to fully enjoy your radiation of warmth.

'Sleepy baby, hm? You need this nap so much, huh?', he cooed, running his fingertips over your scalp.

He gazed down on you, studying your features, getting lost in counting your eyelashes and had to start over again when you slightly move with a big sigh with which you were cuddling into him. He suppressed his smile and frowned when he realized that the only person he was hiding his giddiness from was himself. Ironically, he himself was the person most aware of his adoration for you, so he allowed his lips to take up the space of a big grin.

'I love you', he hushed in a hitched breath, just now understanding that his smile took up all of his concentration.

The washing machine was still running in the adjacent room, and the steady sound put his mind in a meditative state. There wasn't much talking before you fell asleep on top of him, gripping his shirt so tightly that he now understood how his black sweater managed to be so ridiculously wrinkled. He even doubted that washing and ironing it could possibly help evening out the fabric, but he also knew it wasn't necessary to bring it back into its initial state. As long as it helped you, it was fine to him.

His mind repeated your few whispers that you gifted him before your last energy finally left you. He silently reconstructed your phrases about failed exams, rude people, and friendships that ended. The stories weren't new to him. The daily video chats served well as opportunity to share the significant events for the months of separation, but physically feeling your words meeting his ear, paired with your breath and the minuscule nuances of how you tapped his hand when you emphasized something or how you looked away when you were thinking just to return looking back at him with a spark in your eyes that he was only able to see in person, brought the closeness he enjoyed most. Sure, taking your hand, hugging you, kissing you, all of that he loved, but none of that was as much needed as simply being in the same room with you, experiencing you talking to him. Your voice wandering through a room so naturally was what Minho defined as being home.

'I missed you so much', he mumbled and placed a tender kiss on top of your head.

The washing machine's sound faded out, and its beeping announced its work being done. To Minho's dislike the high-pitched repetition of the machine's notification managed to wake you, and he tightened his embrace around you when you started moving in the process of gaining conciseness. He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

Your hair ruffled around his face again, and he desperately started blowing into your direction to keep the tickling strands away from him. When you lift your head, he is met with your frown and immensely sleepy eyes that were still reddened from your recent crying. However, he could also see the little spark of annoyance that you only managed to bring out when you were energized enough. Therefore, the nap must have helped, and Minho smiled at the hope of you feeling better.

'You might have forgotten, but-', you started and were interrupted by a yawn that caused you to nuzzle into Minho's shoulder, before your continued, 'but I am not a cat, so, would you stop blowing at me?'.

You groaned and lied back down, still in need to adapt to being awake and Minho started sorting your hair again, trying his best to braid it what proved to be rather difficult from the position he was in. With a proud hum, he secured his work with the hair tie that he kept around his wrist. The habit of carrying it with him in case you needed it lasted through the whole sequence of being long distant. His arm felt empty without the elastic. He played with it when he was nervous, feeling closer to you. He could pretend that you were just in the next room and about to return to him every second when his fingers stretched the tie only to let it spring back into its original radius. He needed your little mundane belongings just as much as you needed his black sweater.

'I'm sorry, but you are my little kitty and your human form can't trick me. I have seen your soul', he whispered in a hushed laugh and placed another kiss on your head.

'You have seen my soul?', you asked and rolled down from him to the empty side of the bed, causing Minho to move with you to keep facing you. His hand on your waist never left, and he squeezed your soft skin like he always did, an action that never failed to make you a tiny bit shy.

The same happened this time. It is a sensation that strangely carried the sentiment of a tickle, yet Minho did it with the slowed of specific intention, allowing his warmth to transfer through your clothes right onto your skin and for some reason this touch of his directly went to your heart. You were still surprised by your shy smile that heats your whole face. The tickling feeling that he only placed on the surface travelled through your cells, an exponentially multiplying tingle that ultimately assailed your soul that adapted with a bright vibration.

'I did. It's beautiful', he told you with his sickening sweet voice and his mischievous gaze.

'Yeah? It's supposed to match my face, so it makes sense', you returned the demeanour and gain a light playful squeeze on your waist.

'Your face only makes sense for your soul because it's framed by your hair, and who is taking care of your hair looking good? Me', he snorted and placed a smug kiss on your lips, but what started as a complacent reward to him proceeded into a desperate linger.

Being around you was so familiar to Minho, whereas his existence suddenly felt so unaccustomed to the feeling of your lips against his. It is not like he forgot your power over him, but it seemed like his body forgot and now made it obvious that it only functioned as host for his own soul and that essential essence of him wanted to be with yours.

When you pressed yourself further into him, silently returning his kiss, his breath was entirely knocked out of his lungs. The way you proceeded to touch him so tenderly, so fully and attentively convinced him that if ever necessary he toured, just transfer his soul into your vessel, trusting you to continue being his home forever.

'The washing machine is done', he found himself whispering into your mouth and besides your power over him he is now also once again reminded of his incapability to put his deep feelings into words that could make their way to you. It made him sad, the idea that he would never be completely understood by anyone but himself, not even by you. In this life, he would always have to rely on being interpreted rather than understood.

'But our nap is not done yet', you assured him and smiled against his lips, playfully licking over them, and he couldn't but think that his cats were doing that too.

He looked at you and found your eyes that were focused on him. There was this spark, so obviously, so overwhelming to him, that he wondered why no one ever pointed it out, why no one ever mentioned it or seemed even remotely as caught up on it like Minho was.

'I love you', he whispered so quietly that he was sure the phrase only popped up in his head, but you told him the same thing right away.

He involuntarily squeezed your waist again, needing to hold onto the most reliable thing he had in life, and your reaction of nuzzling against him, all shy and giddy, mirrors his hidden away soul's attitude. The faint shadow of the list on the shelf caught his attention and went through all the points he had written down to not forget how he wanted to reencounter you after such a long time, wanting to make sure you understood how much you being in his life meant to him. He was so scared that you would return, grown without him, maybe even outgrown him, so that you would realize that he just wasn't for you anymore. Once the illusion of who he was, who he used to be without being that anymore, bursted, you would just move on. He would let you go, perfectly aware of the pain, pain that you might be able to guess but not fully understand, because he was the one carrying the pain at a place that only he could access.

'What about the sweater?', he asked and heard the tremble in his voice, quickly faking a yawn to conceal his insecurity.

'Got you back', you mumbled and suddenly searched for his hand.

He placed it on yours and let you move it between your bodies. He felt you turning his palm towards you and your lips pressing into it. He let you form his hand into a fist. He wasn't looking, solely trying to follow what you were doing, how you were moving, by tracking the synergy of your both's bodies. His fist was pressed against your chest, and you kept holding this hand so ambitiously that he was sure it was yours now.

'Is that enough?', Minho asked, throwing the words into the air, recklessly waiting if they rain down on you.

'You are everything', you answered and kissed where his heart beat is pounding against his chest from the inside and he decided that he might never be understood like he understood himself, with all the big and small words, intense and nuanced feelings, but your interpretation of him was his favorite, the one that elevates and grounds him and made him believe that his soul could live on in you just as well as it was living in himself.

#lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader #lee minho imagines #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz minho #stray kids x reader

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 2 months

Text

,,Little Bit”

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt agrees to go to a strip club with his friends, to help ‘relieve his stress’. What happens when things take a turn, and Matt actually takes some interest in this horrible fiasco?

Pairing: Switch!Matt X Fem!Stripper!Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Don’t read if you don’t wanna, no ones forcing you. Unprotected p in v, degradation kink, praise kink, strippers & strip club, choking, oral (m receiving) , cum in pants.

Matt let out a sigh of annoyance as Chris slammed his car door, exiting their ‘shared’ S.U.V. As much as Matt didn’t want to be there, his friends told him it would help him ‘loosen up’, and they were all tired of ‘Tough Guy Matt’.

Matt followed Chris out of the car, almost immediately agreeing upon hearing the blasting music from the club.

“Chris, are you sure this isn’t weird? You’re my brother, I feel awkward going to a strip club with you.” Matt caught up with Chris, who just simply shook his head. “But..” Matt started, and Chris cut him off.

“Look, Matt, we can’t force you to be here, it is completely up to you. No, its not fucking weird, you’re acting like were the ones stripping. Go home if you want to, kid.” Chris sighed, as he continued walking to the door. Matt paused to think about what Chris said, and he eventually agreed.

What was the harm? Plus, he was bound to go to a strip club at least once in his life, so why not just go with people he trusts? He knew Chris was there, and a few of his other closer friends were already waiting inside for the pair, and that is why Chris was trying to make his way to the door quickly.

Matt let out a shaky breath, before jogging back up to Chris, as they both got stopped by the bouncer, for obvious reasons. They were both given the ‘good to go’, and they headed inside, Matt sticking to Chris as close as possible. Loosing Chris would cause him much more anxiety than what he had already built up.

Chris and Matt both walk up to the bar together, where their other friends had been seated. The spot gave them all a clear view of the stage, crowded with loud people, mostly men, seemingly in their mid-twenties, or maybe even early thirties. Him and his friends seemed to be part of the younger people there.

Matt let his eyes wander to the stage. There were only two girls stripping at the moment, one of them was you. The way you walked around the bar, your hands ever so slightly twisting around it, mimicking the exact motions you’d do if you were stroking his cock. The way your back arched, and your legs wrapped seductively around the silver pole, Matt was loosing his mind, just looking at you.

He cursed at himself for letting his mind picture such disgusting images about a woman, let alone one he had never even spoke to before- let alone seen before. Matt’s eyes were glued to your body, almost shamelessly. He felt horrible for thinking such vile thoughts, but you wouldn’t know. There was a very little chance you’d see him staring at you, since there were already so many men doing the same exact thing.

To Matt’s avail, he jinxed it. You looked in his direction before winking. His face immediately flushed crimson red, as his eyes widened. You continued to work your magic on the pole, Matt’s eyes wandering to your ass. Even though the wink was no doubt to him, he tried to play it off like it was for someone else. It would make him feel less guilty about his actions.

His eyes stayed sharp on your ass, pressed tightly against the leather of the material you were wearing. You were wearing such a short leather skirt, with a black lace bra, allowing people to only wonder what you had under the skirt. Every once in a while, your skirt would slightly lift up, giving a few people a view of the black lace panties you had on, that matched the bra you had.

Matt felt himself start to grow hard under his restricting jeans. He felt disgusted with himself. There had to be a bathroom, right? He could just run to the bathroom and back, before anyone even realized he left. They were too drunk and occupied to realize anyways.

Matt quickly stood up from his seat, and snuck into the crowd of people. He honestly hated being there. The place was crowded, loud, overwhelming, and now he was throbbing. He just wanted to go home. He tried staying as close to the walls as he could, assuming the bathroom would be connected to the wall. After walking for what seemed like forever, Matt was about to give up when he accidentally bumped into someone, much shorter than he was.

“Oh, fuck, ‘m sorry,” He mumbled, his voice quickly trailing off when he realized it was you that he bumped into. His eyes were no doubt trailing up and down your perfect body.

“That’s alright, pretty boy. Maybe if you kept your eyes where they belonged, you wouldn’t be running into people, hm?” You tilted your head, your hand finding its way to his chin, lifting it up, to make his eyes meet yours. You let out a small giggle as you realized just how flustered you made the boy. “Are ya lookin’ for somethin’, or just wandering around?” You asked curiously.

“I.. uh…” Matt trailed off, his eyes shamelessly looking down at his own jeans, the bulge clearly visible in his pants. “Bathroom..” He mumbled.

“Oh, baby..” You hummed. “That looks like it hurts so bad… Follow me, I’m sure I can make that pain go away,” You mumble, pressing your hand firmly against his pants, making him jolt under your touch. The way he was reacting let you know this poor boy was touch deprived. It wasn’t often that you would invite people to the back with you, it was usually them initiating first and offering money, which you almost never turned down. But this guy was different. He was hot as fuck, and he seemed to be around your age.

The boy nodded quickly, and you let a smirk cover your face. You took his hand in yours, as you swerved in and out of the large group of people in the crowded building. Matt was tense, and you could tell. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, though.

As you led him into one of the rooms in the back, his eyes widened. The room had LED’s lit red, and a pull out couch that was set up into a bed.

“Lay down for me..” You demanded, but then waited for him to tell you his name.

“M-matt,” The boy stuttered, as he laid down on the creaky bed.

“Okay, Matt. Good boy.” You cooed, looking at the boys flustered state. “Do you want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” You asked, as you got on the bed, beginning to hover over him, wanting to get permission before you do anything more.

“God, yes, please..” The boy whined, looking up at you with wide eyes. You nodded, and you took the opportunity to straddle his lap, your ass going right onto his boner. This caused the boy to let out a loud groan, as he gripped the sheets below him.

You leaned forwards, grinding your hips on the whining boy, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Want me to mark you up, baby?” You offered, and Matt hummed in response. You let a small giggle out, at the fact that Matt wouldn’t even open his mouth, or he’d moan. God, he’s so sensitive.

You moved your lips down to his jawline, placing small kisses there. As you continued to move down to his neck, the kisses became more and more rough; leaving dark marks behind. You continued to move your ass over Matt’s dick, and the boy was still moaning beneath you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was still a virgin, but you were still slightly surprised that he’s lasted this long already, by the state he was currently in.

“P-ugh, please-“ Matt moaned as his hips bucked up. ‘There you go’, you thought. You pulled his lips away from his neck, which was now basically half purple.

“Please what baby?” You teased, slowly running your hands along his clothed chest.

“I- Please, I need to..” He mumbled. He was so shy, it was so fucking awesome. You could tease him all day.

“Hm?” You hummed, and he whined loudly. You let out a small giggle, deciding you can be done teasing the helpless boy beneath you. “You need to cum, Matt? Is that it? Already?” You pouted, and Matt nodded. “In your pants, baby? Such a naughty boy.. Go ahead.” You permitted, and Matt groaned as his head flew back. He bucked his hips into you, and you began to feel a wet spot through his pants.

“Oh, god,” Matt moaned, as you stood off of him. He was out of breath, his chest heaving with his uneven breaths. “Fuck, you’re amazing.” He huffed.

“What? Never had sex before or something? Wait, please tell me you have-“ you started joking, but you quickly began to worry. Matt being a virgin isn’t an issue to you, nor does it bother you, you just definitely didn’t want to be his first time unless he wanted you to.

“Oh- No! I’m not,” He chuckled awkwardly. “I just.. recently broke up so.. haven’t done anything recently. Thats why i’m here, too. And im usually more of a dominant guy, so, thats why I said you’re amazing.” Matt sighed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, sweetheart. Breakups suck.” You shook your head. How could someone break up with someone who’s heart was so pure? He was cute, too. You didn’t want to keep the conversation going, in case it would upset or make him uncomfortable. “Ya don’t seem to dominant to me, though, Matty.” You tilted your head and shrugged, placing your hands on the waistband of his pants and boxers, slowly tugging them down.

“I-I usually am-“ Matt faltered, as he lifted his hips off the bed, giving you much easier access to slip his unwanted clothing off.

“Yeah?” You teased, knowing you were clearly the dominant one here. The boy just nodded, and you yanked his pants and boxers all the way off. You stared at Matt’s cock in awe. It wasn’t the biggest you’ve ever seen, but it was pretty big, and girth. But unlike all the other one’s you’ve seen in the past, his was oddly.. pretty.

“W-why’re you looking at it like that.?” Matt asked confused, starting to get insecure.

“It’s pretty,” You chuckled. “and I dunno if I wanna suck it or ride it.” You hummed, and Matt whined.

“Please just ride me- I-I need to feel you,” He pleaded, and your eyes met his.

“Dominant. Huh.” You hummed, standing off of him.

“No- please, I-“ Matt fumbled, his hard cock leaking precum and its tip a throbbing red.

“Calm down, baby.” You chuckled, as your hands slipped to your back, allowing you to unclasp the lace bra you had on.

As Matt watched this action, he calmed down and went quiet. He nodded, and watched your tits spill out of the bra, the second you took it off. You threw it off to the corner, slipping your skirt off as well, leaving you in only your panties.

You crawled back onto the bed, and Matt’s hands immediately flew to your hips. You slipped his shirt off, so it wouldn’t get more sweaty than it had already been. He looked up at you with doe eyes, but then allowing his eyes to trail down your body.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking gorgeous,” He huffed, and you let out a small giggle.

“I could say the same for you.” You stated, your hand trailing down to his cock. You slid his tip through your soaked folds, causing you both to let out a small moan.

You sank slowly down onto the boys’ cock, letting out a loud whine as you did so. You slowly started to bounce, Matt grabbing harshly onto your hips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight-“ He mumbles, his head falling back.

“Holy shit, baby, you fill me up so good,” You hummed. Usually, you’d keep your dirty talk to a minimum (not that it stopped your other few customers here and there), but for Matt, you could make an exception.

Matt let out a small whine at the remark, and you knew the boy loves being praised. You could tell by the small almost inaudible noises he’d make after every sweet praise that would roll off of your tongue so sinfully.

His back arched, and he let out a loud groan as you continued your fast-paced bouncing. He let out strings of curses, his eyes finally meeting yours once again.

“P-please-“ Matt groaned, and as much as you wanted to make him beg for it, you didn’t know his boundaries, and you don’t want to push him. He releases inside of you, letting a loud moan loose. You bounce a few more times, before getting off of him.

“What..?” You ask him, as he gives you an odd look.

“You.. Um… You didn’t cum?” Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh- No! It’s nothing with you, I swear. Most men just.. Don’t care about female pleasure. They just use me for whatever and then want to leave, so that’s what I let them do.” You shrugged, used to the feeling by now.

“No, no, no.” Matt shook his head, standing up besides you. “I am not one of those men. You will not leave this room until you cum. Understood?” Matt grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet his.

His sudden chance in demeanor caught you very off-guard, and it honestly turned you on. How could such a whiny and needy boy turn into this within the matter of seconds? Nonetheless, you nodded, squeezing your thighs together subtly, trying to not let Matt notice.

He pulled your jaw closer, making your lips meet his. The two of you kissed, and you simply allowed Matt dominance, as he pushed you backwards to the bed you were just on moments before.

He pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over your much smaller body. He never broke the kiss once. His hands traveled down your body, gently rubbing along your sides and stomach, your thighs and arms. Everyplace he could touch, he was.

He pulled away from the kiss, flipping you over harshly, causing you to be laying on your stomach. He reached down, and pulled your ass up in the air, causing your hands and knees on the bed, your back perfectly arched,

“Fuck, ma, gonna take my cock like a needy slut? Huh?” He growled, slapping your ass harshly, causing you to let out a yelp in both surprise and a slight twinge of pain.

“Yes- just please, hurry up,” You whined out, causing Matt to chuckle.

“Needy little whore, can’t even wait a few minutes?” Matt tutted, gripping onto the base of his cock, sliding it through your slick folds a few times. Each time, he let his tip linger at your entrance, leaving you to wonder when he was really going to push in.

You so badly wanted to just push yourself backwards, forcing yourself onto his cock, but you know that would only end in a punishment for you. You let out a frustrated groan, and Matt took this opportunity to slam himself into you.

You gasped, and immediately became a moaning mess for him. His pace was much quicker than what you were bouncing on him at, and he was also hitting much deeper and in the right spots at this new angle.

“Fuck! Matt, Matt, Matt!” You chanted his name like a mantra, as he fucked deeper and deeper into you, keeping such a hard grip on your hips, you were sure it would bruise by the morning- or possibly even later tonight.

“Fuck, that’s it. Just keep taking my cock, like the slut you are, hm? Fuck, yeah. You’re taking me so, so well.” Matt mumbled, his hand following your leg, reaching your throbbing clit. He began rubbing in circular motions as he pounded into you at a relentless pace, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t had your last orgasm since a while ago, which was quite surprising, since ‘this’ was your job. You felt a slightly familiar knot tie in your stomach, this knot continuously getting tighter and tighter by the second, and you tried to warn Matt, knowing it would snap at any moment.

“M-Matt, cum!” You moaned, and without permission, you let yourself loose on Matt’s cock. He quickly pulled out, replacing his cock with his tongue, allowing you to ride out your high.

He had came as he was pulling out, and you pulled quickly away, as his tongue was quickly overstimulating you. He stood up, chuckling as he watched you collapse onto the bed, him doing the same next to me.

“I’m still technically at work, but.. I’d love to do that again sometime.” You shrugged, looking over at a cheesing Matt. “Why’re you smiling like that?” You questioned.

“You said most men don’t make you cum. I did,” Matt grinned, winking at you. “And, hell yeah. I’d fuckin’ love to do that again sometime.”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

me cause im so so so incredibly bad at endings LMAO😭😭 but thank you sm for reading, and SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO ACC FINISH I LOST MOTIVATION HALFWAY THRU BUT I RLY LIKED THE IDEA SO I DIDN’T WANNA JUS GIVE UP😭

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #angst

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mari-writes · 3 months

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💕

At summer training camp in her second year, Yachi Hitoka notices a small, heart-shaped Pride pin on Akaashi Keiji’s sports bag.

She spends the first two days of camp agonizing if she should say something. Is it appropriate? Would Akaashi be weirded out? How does one casually initiate a conversation with a fellow gay?

So far Yachi has only told two people: a cousin, and her former crush/mentor, the incomparable Kiyoko Shimizu. She’s chatted with people online, but always anonymously.

The thought of coming out to someone new is terrifying.

But Akaashi, and really the entire Fukurodani Volleyball Club, have always been approachable. Yachi recalls running into Akaashi and his ace, Bokuto Koutarou at Nationals. They were so kind, easing her worries and doubts during an intense match. Despite being just as tall and intense as the other athletes Yachi regularly met, she never felt intimidated by the pair.

And so, she now finds herself peering nervously around the corner of the Ubugawa gymnasium to where Akaashi, now captain of Fukurodani, stands. He’s staring down at his phone, his bag casually slung over one shoulder. The rainbow pin gleams under the midday sun.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Yachi approaches. As she does, she sees that Akaashi is smiling. It’s subtle, just a slight twitch at the sides of his mouth, but it’s noticeable. She wonders vaguely what he’s looking at on his phone.

She chides herself for being nosey.

Akaashi hears her shuffling and looks up. “Ah, Yacchan.” He politely tucks the phone away. “Good evening.”

“Hello, um, hi, Akaashi-san!” Yachi stammers. “H-how are you?” She winces at her own awkwardness.

“Doing well, thank you.” He nods politely. “And you? Are you staying cool? Hydrated?”

“I’m okay!” Yachi bows back. “But yeah, it’s so hot out today!”

“You’re not a summer person, then?”

“Not at all!” She groans. “I feel like I’m melting!”

Akaashi chuckles. “You sound like Bokuto. He abhors the heat, especially when it’s humid as well.”

Yachi grins. “How is Bokuto-san doing? He’s at Central Sports University, right?” She assumes Bokuto keeps in touch with his old teammates.

Akaashi hums. “Moving from home was a big change, but he’s happy. His new team is a good fit.”

“I’m glad.” Yachi reaches down to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt, unsure. She feels like she’s about to dive off a cliff, not knowing if there will be a net to catch her. Her anxious gaze shifts, and now the pin is in direct line of sight, as if taunting her. How can she bring it up?

“Yacchan?”

Yachi flinches, realizing she had been staring at the pin for a few beats too long. When she meets Akaashi’s gaze, he looks uncertain. Oh no! Does he think she has a problem with it? “Sorry!” She cries, arms waving frantically. “I didn’t know what to say, because… um, I saw it and I just…”

“This?” Akaashi’s fingers wander across the bag’s canvas and to the pin’s enamel surface. He taps it with one of his perfectly filed nails, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

Yachi swallows down her fear. “Yeah! It’s nice! Um, I’d like to find one for my book bag!”

Akaashi looks mildly surprised, but his face softens quickly. “I see.”

“Haha, yeah…”

“So.” Akaashi clears his throat. “You’re…”

“Yeah!” Yachi says again hands tighten into fists excitedly. “I’m gay!” Her ears burn in embarrassment as her companion bites his bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her outburst.

“Well, thank you for sharing that with me, Yacchan.”

Yachi releases a shaky breath, grinning back nervously. For a while they are silent. Cicadas buzz above, gym shoes squeak on hardwood nearby. She wonders if Akaashi is feeling the same sort of content relief at finding another queer person to confide in.

“When did you know?”

“Huh?” It takes a moment for her to discern Akaashi’s question. “Oh! Um, well. Back in first year, I had a crush on someone, but at first I didn’t know it was a crush!” She recounts the clarity she experienced, when she finally understood her feelings. It was like everything suddenly shifted into focus.

It had been hard, accepting that Kiyoko couldn’t return her feelings. But she is forever grateful for the older girl—for her influence, kindness, her support when she came out.

“How are you doing now?” Akaashi asks kindly, causing Yachi to relax further.

“Well, I’m glad I know who I am! But now I basically fall in love with every pretty, nice girl I meet!” She sighs. “It’s tiring!”

Akaashi chuckles. “I suppose I can’t relate exactly. I’ve only ever had feelings for one person.”

Yachi leans in curiously, waiting for her companion to continue on his own. She doesn’t want to pry.

“I always found guys attractive,” he says finally. “But when I came out in middle school, my parents told me to keep it to myself. They said I’d ‘grow out of it,’ so it wasn’t worth acting on.”

Yachi frowns. “I’m so sorry, Akaashi-san! I, um, think my mom will be supportive when I tell her. I’ve heard her talk positively about the marriage equality movement…”

Akaashi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’m glad to hear. But remember, even if she doesn’t, you will find people who support and love you. I found that at Fukurodani. In fact,” he reaches into his pocket. “Let’s exchange numbers. If you ever want to talk, contact me. Bokuto, too. Anytime.”

A surge of affection hits Yachi. It’s overwhelming, how it wells up inside her, through her heart and into her throat. Not since Kiyoko had she felt so seen by another person. “Thank you,” she croaks, blinking furiously. (She is not crying. She’s not!) “Wait,” she says, realizing what Akaashi had said. “Bokuto… I mean, is he also…”

Shyly, Akaashi nods. “I’m sure he’d be okay with me telling you. Bokuto is bisexual. And, well…” His voice lowers slightly. “He and I… we’re together.”

Yachi feels like she might fall over at the news. Akaashi and Bokuto, two of her favorite people in the entire world, are dating? Incredible!

“That’s wonderful!” She cries, hands pulling into fists in excitement. He chuckles, sharp cheekbones going pink.

“Thank you. I… have to agree...”

From then on, Yachi and Akaashi grow closer. They spend time together at training camps, keeping in touch in between. They end up at the same university and often meet up to study together.

Yachi confides in Akaashi and Bokuto, who give her advice before she comes out to her mom. They encourage her to ask out a girl in one of her classes, celebrating when she gets her first date.

Over the years, Yachi meets many other queer people who become incredibly important to her. But she never loses touch with Akaashi. The connection they made that one summer day in high school remains a defining moment in her life.

She’ll forever be grateful.

Thanks for reading! I wanted to expand this for A03 but as usual these days, I lost the motivation. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Please REBLOG and/or REPLY if you did. 🥰❤️ Thanks for your continued support!

#yachi hitoka #akaashi keiji #bokuaka #haikyuu!!#my writing #fanfic #drabble #ficlet #bkak #akaboku #hq fanfic #haikyuu

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months

Text

Blind Spot

Summary: Quinn and his secret desire for you.

Word Count: 3.0k

'There's the air I breathe. I can't imagine a life without you. I feel complete when I'm with you. You make me feel safe, loved, cared for, appreciated. You bring out the best in me.' He couldn't help but think to himself, sitting around with others watching as your head tilted back while laughing causing Quinn to smile even if he wasn't the reason for it. As you sat there, laughing, not for the first time you thought about how lucky you were to have this man in your life. The reason why every day was better than the last. As you sat close to him, you couldn't help but lean to his side and wrap your hands around his arm. You smiled at him, filled with overwhelming happiness. You couldn't imagine yourself without him. Your laugh had been a source of light in many's lives. It was beautiful, graceful, alluring, and it drew one in like a moth to a flame. As your laughter melted away slowly, your eyes wandered across the room, eventually resting upon Quinn. You smiled softly as if a sudden wave of contentment and familiarity had washed over you. As you continued to stare with a warm, tender, look, it seemed as if even the air around had changed. He felt drawn in as if your smile was the key to unlocking some hidden desires or feelings within him. When you looked at him, it brought forth a sense of peace and calm that made him want to stay in your presence for as long as possible. Even as Jack had given you a kiss seemed as if it wasn't meant for you or his eyes.

He felt torn between wanting to be near you and keep listening to the sweet sound of your voice and wanting to be bold and make himself known. As he considered what to say, he began to doubt himself. He felt as if there was no right answer and felt scared that no matter what he might say, he'd make a fool out of himself. He took a deep breath and tried to think of the right way to approach you without being too assertive. "Hey Y/N, How you've been doing?". You turned your attention towards Quinn and your lips curved into a small smile. "I've been alright, and you?" You asked, your eyes still locked on him. Your voice was a soothing sound, calming like a gentle breeze. As you spoke to him, he felt as if he was melting. There was something about your smile that seemed to pull him in and he felt his breath quicken in his chest that you didn't seem to notice at all.

His cheeks tingled with shyness as he tried his best to act more friendly. He attempted to keep his composure and ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He made an effort to appear more relaxed and less flirty while still engaging in conversation with you. Instead of focusing on your beauty, he tried to focus on your words and ask relevant questions in order to keep the conversation going. He tried to keep his tone light-hearted and casual, hoping to come across as friendly rather than flirtatious. "I've been doing alright, I have been thinking about you a lot lately, though." He spoke toward you without thinking much about it. "Really?" You asked, your eyes widening in surprise. You chuckled softly, feeling slightly flustered while at the same time feeling rather embarrassed that he said that he thought about you a lot. You smiled softly at him, trying to act all cool but you were clearly a bit rattled by the openness.

He did his best to maintain a friendly façade and keep the conversation light and casual, trying not to reveal his true feelings for you. It seemed to be working as you continued to smile in his direction. Despite his efforts to keep things friendly, he can't help but stare at your beautiful face and let his eyes wander down to your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss you. "Yeah," he answered, letting out a small chuckle himself. He felt slightly embarrassed as he realized what he had said, but at the same time, it felt so easy and natural around you. He couldn't help but notice that you seemed slightly caught off guard and flustered by his openness. Your smile faltered slightly at first, but then you quickly recovered and attempted to play it cool. He couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction knowing that he had managed to catch you off guard.

The direct approach caught you off guard and you had initially been a little taken aback. However, you were now grinning slightly at his unusual boldness and seemed to be enjoying the playful back and forth between you both. "Yeah, I've been thinking about your beautiful smile and stunning eyes all day." He said with more confidence in his tone. You could feel yourself growing more flustered by his words as you heard the flattering words. You quickly glanced down at your hands resting in your lap, trying to hide your shyness. Your cheeks are flushed despite your skin tone and your heart is beating rapidly as you hear how he thought of you all day. "Oh, is that so?" Your eyes widen at Quinn's boldness. You giggled softly, feeling quite charmed by the way he had complimented you regardless of your dating his brother who was wrapped into a different conversation.

Your acting shy was making the whole situation even more adorable. This beautiful person before him was all smiles and giggles, with a radiant presence that was hard to ignore. As he continued to watch you, your charm grew more and more apparent. You giggled again in response, he felt a warm sensation in his chest and a feeling of tenderness toward you. You made him want to be vulnerable and open up to you. "Yeah, I've been thinking how much I love the sound of your laughter and your eyes are amazing as well." He quickly reminded himself that you were dating his brother and that he needed to keep things on a friendly level. However, he still found it difficult to resist your allure and bubbly personality. He decided instead to focus on engaging in friendly banter and try to avoid anything that could be perceived as flirting. He also made sure to keep the conversation balanced and give you plenty of opportunities to share your own opinions and thoughts.

You had been spending more and more time with Quinn in the past few weeks, becoming closer than ever before. He enjoyed your energy and bubbly personality and felt himself becoming more and more attached to you. He had begun to notice little things about you that made his heart flutter and his mind race with thoughts of you. He cherished every moment together and could not wait to share more time with you. It had been months now and he felt like he was finally finding someone who truly understood him and made him feel like himself again. He felt content and happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. You couldn't deny the rush of butterflies in your stomach and the warmth that washed over your body whenever you were around Quinn. You could feel yourself becoming more and more attracted to him, finding everything he said to you as funny, cute, and charming. You enjoyed every second that you spent with him, feeling like a whole different side of you had been awakened that you hadn't felt in a long time. The fact that someone could bring out these feelings in you, made you more than content, it made you feel truly happy.

Over the next few months, you and Quinn's relationship has progressed from friendly banter to an almost flirtatious level. You have become increasingly drawn to each other and it doesn't seem to matter that you were dating his brother. You text each other more frequently and send messages that are slightly more flirty in nature. He didn't want to be too obvious or cross any boundaries, but every time he texted you or saw you in person, the electricity between you two grew stronger. The flirtatious text messages behind your boyfriend's back had become more and more common among you and Quinn. The sweet and seductive words, the hidden secret meetings, the heated kisses… he had become so smitten and addicted to you. You were like a drug that he couldn't stop taking. But the guilt of having an emotional affair with you was eating him alive inside.

You both felt like you were living a dirty little secret. The secrecy and sneaking around were both exciting and nerve-racking. You were always aware of the possibility of getting caught, but at the same time, the idea of getting caught made it even more thrilling. It was like a rush of adrenaline every time you got a text message from each other or went to one of your secret meet-ups. You both felt like you were living a forbidden love story, one that wasn't allowed and yet one that you couldn't tear yourselves away from. You and Quinn have been keeping your affair hidden for a while now, and it seems like neither of you wants to let the other go. Your emotions have been growing stronger, and it feels harder and harder to keep them at bay. You both knew that what you were doing was wrong, but the pull between you two was just too strong to ignore. He felt like no one else could make him feel the way you did and he craved the excitement of being with you. You couldn't help but feel the same way about him, your feelings growing deeper and more intense.

Jack had no idea that you and his brother had been having an affair behind his back. However, he did notice some of the behavior changes in you both and felt like something was going on. He even had his suspicions about the two of you, but he never had any real proof. He was hoping that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and that he was overthinking things. Eventually, after months of keeping it a secret, you finally decided to break up with Jack. It was a difficult decision, especially since you had been in a long-term relationship with him. However, the guilt and the shame of your affair had been eating you up inside, and it felt like the only way to make things right was to let the truth come out. After an exhausting, emotional talk with Jack, you decided to end the relationship.

The break-up with Jack was difficult and painful for both of you. He was shocked and heartbroken to hear that you had been seeing someone else behind his back, but you knew you couldn't keep up the deception any longer. You tried to be as empathetic as possible, but it still felt like you were ripping his heart out of his chest. At the same time, it was a relief to finally have it out in the open and to be able to move on with your life. It was definitely Jack's worst fear that you were cheating on him with some random guy. However, once you told him the truth, he was even more devastated to hear that you had been having an affair with his own brother. He was heartbroken and his trust in both you and his brother had been shattered.

With Jack out of the picture, you felt relieved. After months of sneaking around and carrying the guilt of the affair, it felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Although you did have feelings for Jack and it was difficult to end the relationship with him, you felt as if this was the right decision. You knew that it would hurt Jack, but you didn't want to continue to keep the affair a secret any longer. You felt like you had to come clean, even though it would be awkward and difficult for both of you. The break-up was painful and heartbreaking for both of you. It was hard to let go of a relationship that you had invested so much in and had so many good memories with. However, you knew it was for the best. Although you never wanted to hurt Jack and you still cared for him in a way, you didn't want to deceive him any longer. You were also relieved that there was no need to keep hiding your feelings towards his older brother and you could now pursue him openly. That's all you wanted.

You felt relieved that there was no more hiding and that you could finally pursue a relationship with someone with whom you felt a deep connection. It still felt a bit strange and slightly awkward at times, since you were now dating the brother of your ex-boyfriend, but you pushed those thoughts aside and chose to focus on building your relationship with Quinn. You found yourself quickly falling for him and falling hard. It was like an explosion of excitement and happiness, and it felt like a new chapter had truly started in your life. Over dinner at a nice restaurant, you and Quinn decided to have a deep and meaningful conversation. You take the time to discuss your feelings for each other and what it's like to be together. You tell him that you have never felt this way about anyone before and that he makes your heart beat faster than anyone ever has. You expressed your gratitude for him being so honest and caring towards you. He tells you how much he enjoyed being with you and how he cannot imagine life without you as his words were sincere and heartfelt.

As the candlelight danced across your face, it seemed as if the world around you had come to a halt. You sat at dinner with Quinn, having a deep and meaningful conversation that you had never experienced with anyone else before. You felt like you were finally able to be yourself, without having to hide anything or pretend that you didn't have feelings for him. As Quinn spoke his words of sincerity and heartfelt emotions towards you felt real and deep. It felt like he was finally able to see all the hidden parts of you that you had tried to bury away. Quinn looked at you with a tender and loving look in his eyes and slowly started to speak. "I'll never forget the moment I met you. You came into my life unexpectedly and it seemed as if fate had drawn us together. I felt this feeling of instant connection and I was drawn to you like a magnet. I couldn't explain it, but I could tell our connection was special and I wanted to explore it for forever but never could before." He said in a soft and warm voice. "You are so special and unique and I just want to be with you."

The gentle and tender words you heard coming from Quinn's lips were like music to your ears. You could feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you listened to him speak. You felt as if you were in a dream come true. The words he spoke to you, made you feel as if your own feelings had been validated and recognized. As you looked at Quinn, there was no doubting the truth in his words, but you couldn't help but feel shy and intimidated by the intimacy of his words towards you. You remain quiet for a moment, contemplating how to respond. You feel overwhelmed with emotion and not sure exactly how to express yourself. As you look at Quinn, you could see that his eyes were filled with genuine love and affection toward you and his words were deep and heartfelt without any hint of falsehood. You felt as if being with him would make everything perfect.

As Quinn continues to speak the words that he feels about you, you try to absorb them and believe each and every one of them. You feel a surge of emotions, ranging from nervousness to excitement, and happiness. But the most prominent feeling you felt was the feeling of gratitude. As you finally felt someone was recognizing and validating your own feelings as well. You try to swallow your shyness down and speak to him in the same tone. "I feel the same way." You felt a warm rush of relief and comfort wash over you as Quinn's words resonated with your own feelings toward him. You looked into his eyes and began to speak, feeling your own feelings of shyness and doubt fade away as you recognized the importance of what you wanted to express to him. "Quinn… I feel the same way about you. I feel connected to you in a way that I have never felt before. I never want to be apart from you and as you said this connection is something special and something worth exploring."

The sheer intensity of the moment was overwhelming. Quinn felt elated and filled with a sense of pride as he listened to the person he cared about and had developed feelings for and felt the same way about you. He could feel blood rush to his cheeks and his heart race as you spoke of the connection you both had and how special it was. He felt the warmth of your hand touch his and knew that everything had fallen into place at last. He couldn't help but smile and feel a surge of emotion as there was nothing but pure joy surrounding him at that moment. As the two of you sat there enjoying dinner, enjoying each other's company, enjoying each other's words, and sharing in the happiness that you felt from hearing each other's feelings; you couldn't help but ask yourselves a question: What comes next? It has been amazing to finally confirm how both of you have been feeling but now that you have reached this point, it feels as if the next steps have suddenly become more important than ever before. You feel as if your hearts had become so intertwined that it would be impossible to separate them ever again.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks

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