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the-moon-files · 5 months

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Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain :)

Part 1 (ur here!) / Part 2 / Part 3

Sun: Gender Neutral! Reader (you/they/them), Guide Reader

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: First, Sky, Four, Legend

Comets & Meteors: Content: None Known & Triggers: None Known.

U have a lot of Nicknames: Guide, Hero's Guide, Prince, Princey, Star, (more to be added?).

☆

First (Manga!Link):

Has "too good" of posture lol

It makes his back stiff and by the time he's in his bedroll he's confused about why it feels better, silly silly man

Just in general tenses his muscles too often, so whenever u offer to massage him, he nearly crumbles on the spot

(the others know exactly how amazing ur massages are, and are fully staring at him in jealousy lol)

Gets little rips and tears in his clothing all the time somehow??

Even tho he wont have a scratch acc on him after hours of battle???

mans could be flying around Skyloft with only clouds touching him and come back pouting telling you he ripped his scarf again :'(

Likes to be slightly in front of you most of the time, especially in new places/other Links' Hyrules

It just makes him feel better knowing he's both protecting you, and that you're watching his back

(Most Links feel at their best/most confident when your voice can be heard just over their shoulder, not that they don't love seeing ur face now too)

Sky (Skyward Sword Link):

Is slowly making everyone he knows a collection of wooden figurines

He usually carves when he's bored or stressed

so needless to say this mission of the Shadow (slow going, stressful at times like Twi getting hurt)

Has made him give u an army of little wooden figures (everyone else gets a small collection bc ur the first he gives one to)

Did i say give? Excuse me, i meant:

sneaks them as a little surprise into your belongings or clothing or other personal effects

This started bc after a week or two of him giving you wooden things you tried to reroute him to other ppl,

so Sky just made it his mission to see how many he can sneak instead onto you on any given day lmao

(Also he may or may not have daydreamed abt being able to carve u things and actually physically give them to you on his adventure before, so he's taking advantage of being able to now)

Has luscious hair at all times, little to no effort, Wars is so pissed abt it lol

Mf responded when asked what products he used (by poor Wars too) with, "wym?? With water??? And soap????"

Never ties his boot laces

You will all be gearing up for battle and go to stalk and stealth kill monsters and right before u get up on them u always have to look over at Sky's shoes and whisper at him to tie them

Is the most likely to plant face first into the ground or trip and fall on his ass from shoes untying

He just didnt need to with being in the clouds on his Loftwing all the time back on Skyloft and so he never rlly adapted to that even on the surface lol

He's also just miserable at doing a decent knot so you've taken to teaching him repeatedly how to tie them-

why didnt the knight academy help with this at all actually??

(Wind makes fun of him be hes a sailor and knows like 10+ knots)

Four (Four Swords/Minish Cap Link):

Loses his tools constantly

Well not really "lose" so much as "slightly misplace"

It drives him crazy, the Minish used to help him with it back in his Hyrule so he got out of the habit of putting things back where they belong

You've gotten to the point where you'll glance over wherever he's working so the next time he comes up to u complaining abt a lost hammer or smth u immediately just "should be over by the fire"

And ur right, 99.9% of the time its so funny

Bc Four's all like "wtf ive moved around so much since then i took all the other tools with me- MF. U WERE RIGHT."

Is rlly good at like color matching, comes in handy for new outfits

Also has aches and pains like in his hands and arms mostly

Bc of all the forge work, and absolutely treasures any massages u offer him

Likes to wear matching jewelry with you! Like earrings or piercings or necklaces etc

Also has good taste in jewelry and what looks good on everyone + you

Legend (Link to the Past, Link's Awakening etc):

Unfortunately the type of person to just shove things in his bag willy nilly

Its the horder tendencies, he just has a lot of stuffs so he gave up trying to organize it

Actually really good at styling hair, Legend would absolutely lie abt it if u asked but he can spend as much time on his hair as Warrior

Likes to experiment with new clothes, like skirts or bright colors, esp if they match some of his clothes already

U ran by some makeup one time in another Hyrule and he knew how to use it rlly well??

Lies abt random skills he has, or like thinks skills he already has can translate well,

like he's rode a horse before wym he can't drive Wild's motorcycle??

Or fly a Loftwing???

Well now its a challenge

Tbh most competitive over stupid things randomly out of all the Links besides Wild, Wind, Wars, and occasionally Hyrule + Sky + Time

Got challenged to try and go shield surfing with u once and thought that horse-riding skill would transfer and it did in fact Not.

Actually kinda scared the other Links watching u two spin out and crash ngl, what with doing an accidental backflip? Midair??

but u both were okay somehow???

Also weirdly lucky, u stg he's got some sort of ring or blessing for that

☆

IT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED I FUCKING HATE TUMBLR ITS DONE THIS TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES NOW 😭😭

All the Links WOULD HAVE been here if it werent for fucking tumblr

Ill post more parts soon if anyone is interested

Peace out,

🌙

#male reader #botw link x reader #loz link x reader #link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu x male reader #lu x masc reader #lu sky x reader #lu first x reader #lu legend x reader #lu four x reader

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azsazz · 1 year

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Winter Winds

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon req: ik you probably won’t get to this in a while but i just read “in ribbons” and absolutely loved it!! got me so hot and bothered. anyway, thinking abt az, reader, and the kids got me thinking…what if the entire ic and their kids are all at wind haven for some trip or something. the oldest kids are pre teens, a bit older maybe. while at the camps, someone attacks the reader and she’s like seriously hurt. like seriously seriously hurt. az goes ballistic, and all the kids get so worried. but especially the older ones, maybe wren baz and zuzu, they get super angry and want to help az get revenge for their mother?

Warnings: Injury, mentions of blood and gore. Traumatized children but they are otherwise unharmed.

Word Count: 4,921

Notes: You didn’t think I forgot about posting today, did you? Silly. I didn’t make them pre-teens, they’re I guess a bit younger than that but close, but I think I’ve got most of the idea in here, except the revenge part. Sorry about that and sorry in advance this one’s kinda sad.

_________________________________________

“Daddy?!”

His son’s frantic voice slices up his spine like an icy blade, plunging deep and cleaving him in half.

At the sound, Azriel’s body flashes hot with adrenaline and everything else slows to a crawling pace.

He spins on his heel instantly, ignoring the grumbling of the camp warlord who’d been reporting to him, now muttering under his breath about letting his savage brood run wild in the camps, that he doesn’t know how to raise them.

His family means more to him than anything, and that terrified shout from his son to grab his attention isn’t one he’s heard in years.

Something is very very wrong.

Azriel��s heart stammers in his chest like the frantic beat of wings in war when he locks eyes with his second oldest son, Baz.

He shouldn’t be out here alone, even if he has been in the training camps for nearly two years now and knows his way around. If any of the warriors had grabbed him and thought to teach the Azriel a lesson through his child…the spymaster shivers at the thought.

The more pressing concern, the one that makes his brows twitch into confusion and fuels his feet forward and nearly halts his heart in his chest, is that young Baz isn’t dressed for the cold. The Illyrian mountains in the peak of Winter could give even the most attuned warrior frostbite in mere minutes, and Baz isn’t even wearing a coat.

Worse yet, there’s tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks, cherry red from his journey.

He must’ve run the entire way to meet him in boots that are untied and tripping him in his haste to find his father. If someone’s stolen his jacket Azriel will be the last thing they see as he–

Azriel’s slipping out of his own coat, uncaring that the snaps rip open by the base of his wings. He needs to get his son bundled up, and quickly, before he comes down with something worse than the cold Azriel already knows is in his future. He scoops Baz into his arms, wrapping him carefully and hugging him close to his chest. His shadows swirl around both of them, already preparing to winnow them away.

“What’s wrong buddy?” he’s whispering, wiping the tears from his son's bruning face. Sometimes he and his older brother will get into arguments that have one of the boys running to Azriel in a fit full of tears but never something quite like this. Baz knows how to put his coat and tie up his boots and not to run across the camp alone–

The little boy in his arms releases a sob that nearly shatters the snowy peaks of the mountains surrounding them, “Mommy–”

He doesn’t need to continue. Azriel winnows them back to the house without a second thought, hugging Baz tightly to his chest, lips pressed to the crown of his sweaty black hair. He hopes that his son can’t feel him trembling, fisting his hands in his coat to stop the shaking. If something has happened to you he doesn’t know what he will do. How he will survive.

But he would’ve felt it, if there was something wrong, through the bond you share. He lets his shields slide down, reaching out for that golden thread, the one that feels like warm summer winds in the night sky, your hand caressing his soul.

There’s nothing.

Azriel gives a sharp tug but receives no response as he and his son arrive in a mass of black shadows on the front porch. The bond grows more taut with worry the more he tries, desperate pleas for you to respond that go unanswered as he shoves the door open with a heavy boot.

The house is in complete chaos.

His shadows scatter immediately, searching and returning with whispers of bloody fingerprints on the counter top, streaking across the wall in his bedroom, on the doorknob to the bathroom, while he frantically searches the room for the rest of his children.

Horror coils his gut at the scent of his mate’s blood, thick in the air. It makes him choke, hot and heavy in the back of his throat.

Azriel sets Baz down, nearly tearing the door off of its hinges when he shuts it and turns the lock. He allows himself a single drawn out breath while his mind reels for a plan of action.

Wren looks more worried than his little brother, though Azriel knows that his eldest is trying his best to keep his emotions together for his siblings.

He had a screaming Jax in his arms, the younger boy clearly distraught about the heightened feelings of anxiety and concern smothering him. He reaches up for Azriel as Wren carries the struggling babe closer, trying his best to keep hold of his brother.

“Dad,” Wren breathes a sob of relief, but Az notes the twins in their playpen, Malos’ cries are loud enough for the silent wailing babe beside her, four sets of tiny hands curled around the brim of the pen with white knuckled fingers.

“Wren, I need you to watch your siblings for a little bit longer, okay?” Azriel’s voice is strained with tension as he calls out to Rhysand in his head, his golden eyes a hair wider as he searches the room for Zuzu. He rubs a reassuring thumb across Wren’s cheek and over Jax’s hair, trying to calm the little boy down. “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass will be here any minute, alright bub? They’re going to take us all to the River House.”

Wren’s lip quivers but he’s squaring his shoulders as he looks up at his father, “Mommy’s hurt.”

“I know,” it pains him to say it, but by now he knows, “I’m going to get her, will you and Baz help the little ones put on their shoes please?”

Wren nods and sets to work helping his father while Azriel rushes towards the bathroom where his shadows have located both Zuzu and you.

He finds Zuzu is sitting in front of the bathroom door, banging on it as she wails for you. Her throat must be raw from the screaming because she sounds horse, tears dripping down her face and snot bubbling from her nose.

Azriel hears Rhys and Cassian appear in the living room, and he lifts Zuzu up from under her arms as Cassian appears, his first thought to help his brother.

“Az–” Cassian sounds nervous for his brother. When he’d gotten the call a short time ago telling him that he and Rhys needed to pick up the children because something had happened to you his heart dropped, terrified for his best friend.

“Just take her, please,” Azriel pleads, letting the worry he feels coat his words. His throat is tight with emotion and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep himself from going berserk because he can see the red painted handprint on the brass knob and the smell of your blood is overpowering.

“I’ve got her,” Cassian nods, and the look in his hazel eyes gives Azriel brings forth that last shred of hope as his brother turns away and he twists the knob.

His knees nearly give out at the sight of you, unconscious and lying in a pool of your own blood. You look paler under the luminescent faelights, the hand holding together the gaping wound in your side now slack in the puddle of crimson.

Your name is a cry of helplessness on his lips as he dives forward, knees cracking against the tiles as he slides closer, pressing his fingers to the pulse point in your neck and caressing your face with the other, a shaky hand brushing the hair back from your face.

His shadows have alerted him that you’re breathing, but barely so, and he releases a shaky breath because he wasn’t able to feel the barely there beat of your pulse beneath his fingers with how badly they’re desensitized from his own burns and the pounding of his own heart.

But Gods–the gash in your side is something a warrior would receive in battle, like you have taken a long sword to the side, your flesh tearing open, muscles and blood and–

No, he doesn’t want to think about whether he sees an organ or not. No, he needs to focus on stopping the bleeding. Azriel can’t help but think, his beautiful mate…who has done this to you?

Rhys and Cass both appear within seconds, having called for the best healers in Velaris to the River House, where his children now are, under the care of the High Lady and Inner Circle themselves.

“Az,” Rhysand murmurs, hardly louder than a simple breath as he takes in the state of the room. His spymaster, on his knees in a pool of your blood as he tries his best to stop the bleeding. The towel you had grabbed is already sopping wet with blood and there’s no signs of it slowing.

His wings are drooped low behind him, the slippery warmth of the floor against the thin velvety skin is a reminder of exactly how much blood you have lost. Had he been any later, had you not sent Baz–

“Help me.”

It makes both brothers freeze, the utter helplessness, the devastation in Azriel’s voice, so small, so soft, unlike anything they’ve ever heard.

They jump into action.

“Az,” Cassian approaches him like he’s approaching a wild beast, unsure of how to approach this side of him, soft footing and hands raised in surrender. The spymaster lets his brother place a hand on his shoulder, turn him from his spot so that they’re looking at each other.

Cassian has never seen Azriel so panicked, not in the 500 years they’ve been best friends. Not through the wars, the nightmares, the births…not even through the mild complications you’d gone through when the twins were born. No, he was a solid wall, not an ounce of emotion had cracked through the barriers he had built, but this…

His chest heaves with every breath he takes, short and quick and filled with anxiety. Azriel’s hands are vibrating when Cassian takes them in his own. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling in your blood, that Az’s hands are slippery with it, all he cares about are his friends.

“Az,” he tries again, and the usual honeyed gaze of the shadowsingers meets his own. He’d startled him. Can see the swirling emotions racing behind his eyes; the hatred, the scared, the utter fear, his mind unable to grasp onto one feeling long enough to put thought into it. “We’re going to take you to the River House, okay?”

He’d carry him if he had to, but Rhys can get the job done. There’s worry that Azriel might explode, break completely in his hands and let the beast within him finally take over. And if that happens, he’s glad the children are far away, because no one, not even Cassian nor Rhysand, will stop him from turning the Illyrian camps into nothing more than a tornado of black mist.

Azriel isn’t seeming to comprehend what he’s saying, head tilting down to look at where his hands rest in Cassian’s grip, thumb sliding through the cooling blood on his hands like it’s not the ichor of his mate, painting his hands the color of Cassian’s siphons.

Rhys comes around the both of them, crouching to place a hand on each of their shoulders. The wisps of darkness that carry them through the planes of the continent must strike something within Azriel because he’s tensing under his touch and wrenching away.

“Az,” Rhys commands softly, hands raised to show no sign of wanting to corral his brother’s anger, “The babes are right in there.”

The reaction from his statement is near instant, locking down his emotions little by little like the scales of his armor retracting into his leathers, until there is almost nothing left.

Azriel spins on his heel, already heading towards the shut door between him and the muffled cries of his children on the other side.

Cassian steps into his path, stopping him.

He watches the spymaster assess him with a trained eye but Cassian’s already weighed his brother's reactions in his head, being a true warlord himself. There is no way he will let the children see their father like this, worked up with their mother’s blood all over them.

Rhys draws the attention of the shadowsinger again, both Illyrians goading him like a tiger waiting to strike, “(Y/N) is this way. She’s with Madja and her best healers.”

The sound of your name strikes him low, chest caving and reaching down the bond for you again, knowing there will be no response, a wall of icy metal stopping him from entering.

Azriel glances at the door again, but makes his way towards the room you’ve been hauled off to, worried for your wellbeing.

The saliva is thick in his mouth as he ascends the stairs, his brothers tight on his flanks. His hands are curled into tight fists and he can feel the cracking of your blood on his hands in a way that would normally be calming if it were anyone else's blood, but not yours.

Never yours.

He pushes into the room and doesn’t look at the wound or the few nursemaids that are crouching over you. He doesn’t look at the bowls of water stained crimson, the towels dripping or the clothes they’d cut you out of, he keeps his focus on your closed eyes.

He’s quick to find his place at your side, perching out of the way as he reaches for your hand but freezes when he catches sight of his own.

“Here,” Cassian’s soft voice has him looking up, the warlord holding a freshly damp rag for him to take, not even a touch of red on it.

His throat works against a swallow as Azriel takes it, scrubbing his hands like he’s the one who’d rubbed his skin down to the bone and left these scars.

He does the best that he can without spiraling. He’s had blood on his hands before, many times, but the fact that it’s your blood has him reeling, immediately stopping the work on cleaning his own hands in favor of helping you clean yours.

When he’s done he hands it back to Cassian who gives him a soft nod and a sad smile. Neither are the things he wants to see right now. All he wants to see is you opening your eyes and looking at him, smiling, laughing, unharmed.

There’s nothing else to do but wait, which he does so quietly, stroking his thumb across your forehead while his other keeps your limp hand firmly tucked in his grasp.

He doesn’t look at the wound they’re stitching up, but he can’t help himself from reaching down the bond every few minutes, silently praying to the Mother that you will respond.

His brothers wait by the door. Rhys lets Cassian get cleaned up and check on the children while he watches Azriel from across the room, his own heart aching for his brother in this situation, to be near his own mate at a time like this.

But he stays put because that’s what any of them would do for each other, even when Cassian comes back, hands clean and clothes new, no traces of your blood on him.

They know that there will be no moving Azriel from your side to clean up, so they don’t even try. When Feyre dips her head into the room, catching a glance at you and your mate on the lone bed, a handful of healers working frantically around, they share a look.

It’s Rhys who approaches him this time, making sure his footsteps are heard by the shadowsinger as he nears.

He watches Azriel’s shoulders pull up taut, his spine stiffening and shadows curling his rounded ear that the High Lord is approaching.

His golden gaze is a harsh glare, a warning to stay away, and although Rhys understands the look, it still hurts.

“Az, maybe you should get cleaned up,” he suggests softly, keeping a healthy distance away from the bed. The healers have started sewing up your wound, having been able to stop the blood and stabilize you, and their work will be done soon.

The shadowsinger’s face doesn’t change as he looks back down at you, dismissing Rhys with that single action.

“The kids,” he tries, “They’re worried. They want to see you.”

Azriel nearly startles at the mention of his children. They’d been half scared to death when he’d last seen them, frantic and worried about their mother just as much as he was. He can see them all clearly, Wren trying to be strong, Baz’s red face wet with tears, Zuzu and Jax and the twins all crying out for help, understanding that something was horribly wrong.

“The kids,” he murmurs, as if he’s not even there. Azriel pets your hair again, smoothing his fingers down your cheek, across your lips, finding their way to the juncture of your jaw and throat, where your pulse is.

Rhysand waits with a baited breath as Azriel counts, comes to whatever conclusion in his mind that he can, grasping for some sort of sign that you might be okay.

The beating of your heart is constant, evened out even though one of the nurses has already told him as much. He won’t leave you if he doesn’t think you’ll be okay.

But he knows you would want him to make sure the children are okay, so he places a kiss on your hand, ignoring how the warmth hasn’t quite returned to it completely, before settling it comfortably at your side and standing from the bed.

He follows his brothers from the room and as soon as the door snicks shut behind him and the wail of Zuzu is carried to him on the whisper of a shadow, he breaks.

He makes a break for his children, his flight sense kicking in but he’s hauled backwards into the arms of Cassian, holding him tightly across the chest as he struggles.

If he were in his right mind he’d be able to figure a way out of his hold.

“Az, you have blood all over you,” Cassian grits, his breath puffing with the struggle of keeping Azriel in his hold. He’s writhing like an animal, trying to tear his way through whomever he needs to to get to his family. “You can’t go in there like this. You’ll scare them.”

That makes him stop struggling, worming his way out of Cassian’s touch.

“But Baz didn’t have a jacket on–”

“He’s already been looked at by a healer,” Rhys supplies, trying to calm the skittish shadowsinger.

“And Zuzu’s been screaming her head off,” he retorts just as easily, mind reeling at how his children must be feeling.

“She’s been given a soothing tea for her throat,” Cassian adds, fiercely protective of them as he is his own children.

“And Jax–”

“Jax is an empath,” Rhys agrees, ushering Azriel towards the other end of the hallway, “And it’s normal for him to react like that with all of the emotions running rampant in the room at the time. You need to calm yourself down if you are to hold him, your reactions will harm him more than Wren’s. For now he’s fine. They’re all okay, Azriel. Here and in one piece, waiting for you.”

Azriel’s wide eyes are glossy as he looks between his brothers, back and forth as if he’s searching for anything other than the truth there.

He won’t.

“They’re okay?” he asks again, not quite sure he believes it.

Both of his brothers nod, “They’re okay Az. Promise.”

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

You feel like utter shit.

Like you’ve been carved down to the bone with a blade. There’s a pounding in your head and when you open your eyes the room spins, bright with light. Your head goes with it, the whispers of words striking like a bell tower to your brain.

“(Y/N)?”

That voice silences everything.

You squeeze his hand, blinking against the faelights until the three Azriel’s you see finally become one, perfect, mate.

“Az,” you breathe.

He bites his lip, hardly able to contain the relief he feels in this moment. He knows you’ve just opened your eyes but he’s squeezing his shut tight and resting his forehead gently against your own.

And the bond floods with warmth, his breath catching in his throat.

“I’m here,” your free hand finds his hair, smoothing through it the best that you can in your weakened state, “I’m here, Love.”

He nearly whimpers, would have if his mind hadn’t gone immediately into spymaster mode, seeing you awake.

He pulls away from you all too quickly, sitting straight in his spot beside you, the golden glow of his iris’ swimming with dark shadows.

“Who.” he asks, and it’s not a question. It’s the only word he can get out, voice dipped in steel and as sharp as the blade he’s been filing for the days you’ve been under rest.

“Some old relative,” you cough, throat dry, and you hiss at the pull in your stitches. Azriel is quick to help you drink some water down, soothing the roughness in your voice and the pounding in your head. “Claimed to be so, at least.”

“Fucking bastards,” he spits, the shadows in his eyes sweeping into hot, angry flames, “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them.”

“Az,” you sigh. You love your mate dearly and this is about as normal a reaction as you would expect from him, but you’re so achingly tired. “Are the kids okay?”

He shudders at the thought of something happening to your children and kisses across your knuckles, your hand in his shaking ones.

“Yes, the babes are fine.”

You settle a bit more, knowing that truth. The fact that Azriel has referred to them as babes shows you just how terrified he truly is.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, propping his chin where your hand is holding his.

“Tired,” you offer, because you’re afraid that a joke might push him over the edge. “Can I see my babies?”

Azriel looks like he might protest. You’ve been changed and brought to a different room once the painkillers and healing drinks the nurses had forced down your throat had begun to work, but he thinks of his rowdy children and your fresh injury, he worries for you.

But you’re pleading, “Please, Love. I need to see them.” And he gets it.

Because he finds himself needing to see them as well.

“Drink some more water, tell me what happened, and I’ll get Rhys to bring them in.”

You hold his gaze, nodding finally.

Azriel helps you drink some more water, nearly a whole glass before you begin.

“I was on my way back from the mercantile,” you start, swallowing harshly as you wrack your brain for what had happened. “Just a quick trip to get some treats for the little ones,” you laugh dryly, tears welling up in your eyes. Azriel’s quick to thumb them away, caressing your cheek with his warm hand.

“I didn’t see him coming until it had already happened,” you admit shamefully. Your mate had taught you better than that and you had failed him.

Your mate sends nothing but warmth down the bond because while you may have been taken by surprise, he knows you didn’t go down without a fight.

“I didn’t understand how bad it was until after he was laying in the snow next to me and I looked at my torn coat and saw all the blood.”

You remember crying out as his blade slashed across your body and took you to your knees. You’d been able to act through the pain, kicking a foot out behind you and sweeping your attackers feet from under him.

It was easier to pry the longsword from his hands when he was gasping for air and even easier to make sure he never took another breath again.

“I don’t remember getting home,” you exhale a shaky breath, “I was just holding my side and there was so much blood Az, so much blood.”

He shushes you softly, upset with himself that he’s asked you to share this story. If he had known your attacker was dead he wouldn’t have asked and before he can try and stop you you’re already continuing.

“I was afraid to go home,” you admit, and his hand clutches yours tighter, “I didn’t want the babes to see me like this.”

Your admission hangs over the both of you, loud in the otherwise silent room.

“I’m glad you did,” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion, “If you hadn’t and I had lost you…”

“You didn’t,” you reassure, maybe for the both of you, “Let’s not think about that.”

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to think about anything else but he nods, agreeing.

“I hid it the best I could, but you know Wren,” the thought of your oldest brings a smile to your face, “He’s so smart, that one. I told him to watch the babes for me while I went to clean up and he tried to talk to me, tried to ask me what was wrong but I just kept going, telling him that I was fine and would be out in a minute…” you trail off because you weren’t out in a minute. On the floor unconscious in a minute more like.

Azriel kisses your knuckles, lingering on your fourth finger before he answers, “He told Baz to come get me. I was talking to a commander and he came running up screaming and crying out for me. Scared me shitless I tell ya. Didn’t even have a coat on.”

Your eyes bulge and you try to sit up, distressed over your son out in the mountains without a coat, “Is he–'' your question is cut off by a hiss and Azriel’s on his feet guiding you back down onto the bed, gentle hands on your shoulders.

“He’s alright, Love. They all are. Got them all checked on while they were helping you. Not even a sniffle,” Azriel soothes. He relaxes when your shoulders droop and you settle back into the pillows.

“Thank you,” you whisper, thumb brushing across his knuckles, “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). So fucking much,” he breathes, shuddering when you caress his cheek.

You tug on him weakly, puckering your lips for a kiss that he easily ducks down for, the tension melting away from his body now that you’re awake in his arms.

“Can I see them now?” you ask as soon as you pull away. Your mate huffs playfully, already calling out to Rhys in his mind.

The door slams open, Wren and Baz racing into the room with the Inner Circle hot on their heels. Rhys is holding Zuzu, Feyre’s hugging Jax close to his chest while Cassian and Nesta each hold a babe, their own boys trailing in behind them.

Azriel shoots to his feet, catching his two oldest sons around their waists before they can launch themselves at you.

“Mommy,” Wren cries from his father’s grasp and Baz bursts out into tears at the sight, reaching over Azriel’s shoulder for you.

“Az, let them go,” you scold lightly, but caress the bond, thankful for stopping them before another injury could happen.

“Boys, you need to be gentle with mommy, okay?” Az holds each of their arms, making sure that his order has been received by each son before slowly letting them go.

They’re both on your uninjured side, Baz tumbling into your arms. He climbs up onto the bed and you hold him close, letting him cry into the crook of your shoulder, reaching out for Wren with tears in your own eyes.

“Hi baby,” you whisper, voice thick.

“Mom,” he breaks, tears spilling as he climbs up next to Baz, letting you run your fingers through his hair.

You bite your lip, holding your boys as close as you can, before looking around the room at the rest of your children, your family.

Each one is looking at you with smiles, some pained, some relieved, some teary, and you know that if something had gone wrong, that your children would be in the best of hands.

Your teary gaze slides back to your mate. He hadn’t looked away from you while you were taking everyone in, seeming to know exactly where your mind had just been. But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, all he wants is to hold you and his children as close as he can, forever and always.

Cassian hands Knox off to Azriel as he rounds the bed to your injured side, taking the spot next to you to block your injury as he gestures to his brothers and their mates to bring forward the rest of your children.

Let us know if you need any help, Rhys speaks to Azriel and the shadowsinger nods, looking at you with the babes all curled in close, hugging each other tight.

He knows they won’t leave you now, but he doesn’t care because everyone is here together, in one piece.

One big family.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #dad!azriel #daddy!azriel #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azsazz #azsazz next gen #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #acosf #acofas

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daichiduskdrop · 9 months

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 14

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: mentions of bad eating habits

Words: 3814

A/M: Sorry for the poster, I'm not a graphic designer by no means ;-; lots of love

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

The traffic was surprisingly good, allowing the group to get to the packhouse early, with the journey only taking about 15 minutes.

Parking the car, Taehyung turned the engine off, making all of them scatter out of the car again. While helping you step down to the ground, Yoongi was careful to hold your hand securely, with the other one holding your bag.

The snow crunched under your boots as you all entered the home. Jin put in the code, allowing the doors to open with a loud beeping melody.

All of you went on to remove your shoes, Jin was quick to help you untie your shoelaces so you wouldn't have to bend at all.

Slipping your shoes off for you, the alpha took them and placed them underneath the heater once again, placing old newspaper underneath them so the dirty water wouldn't get on the ground.

„Come on, baby, let's go eat something.” The youngest said, already pulling at your hand. Complying with no issue, the two other alphas soon followed.

Washing your hands under warm water, Jin and Yoongi were quick to start cooking, with you and Taehyung taking a seat at the dining table close to them.

You were hesitant to sit, knowing it would be much better of you to go and help them, and so when you stood up, watching over the two men already harmoniously working together,

When Yoongi noticed you walking over, he was quick to turn you back around, gently nudging you back in the other man's direction.

„Stay with Taehyung-ah for a bit, kitten. We will take care of everything; you just rest for a little.” He said, pulling out the chair for you again, then he waited for you to sit before he pushed it to the table again.

„But-” You tried to get in, only to be interrupted just as quickly.

„Cub no. Listen to alphas; we know what's best.” The tone he used left no chance for you to talk again, and so you just gently sighed, defeatedly.

Quick to pick your mood back up, Taehyung jumped into action, his arms wrapping around your waist softly before he gently pulled you to himself, having you sit over his lap with your side against his chest.

As you allowed yourself to rest against him, the scent he carried clouded all around, calming you down. Smiling at you largely, he rubbed his palms over your sides, being mindful not to be too rough.

„Will you show me what you did today, babycheeks?” The long hair he had fell over his forehead, cascading down like a waterfall. Rubbing your cheeks softly, the alpha didn't hold back from squeezing them for much longer.

Just now you remembered him asking about taking photos of your work throughout the day. Feeling disappointed with yourself, you avoided his eyes.

Quick to notice that something wasn't right, his hands pulled you closer to his front, his chin nudging your face gently, scenting you just a bit.

„Hm? What is it, baby? Did you forget to take photos?” Taehyung asked, his voice deep as usual. Noticing the smallest nod, he could only coo at you, not being able to hold back with how soft you looked.

„Awh.. babycheeks, it's okay. I wouldn't get angry at you, ever, and not for something so silly. It's alright, sweetheart. Come here...” Cradling you to himself, he gently swayed from side to side, your face resting against his neck and peeking over his shoulder.

Yoongi has just finished cutting the beef and seasoning the small pieces in a pan before he starts to fry them. The other alpha is meanwhile preparing the noodles, opening up the packages, and boiling them.

Holding you close by your temple, the youngest alpha felt his heart break a little at the thought of you being so soft and shy when you were not doing what he expected you to do. Especially since it was such a silly thing as taking a photo or two.

„I can show you photos I took earlier on, though. You whispered near his ear, making him turn to you right away, beaming.

„Sure, I would love to see!” He said, excited that he would finally get to see your work. He saw some stuff in your apartment, but he didn't want you to be angry at him for snooping around while you were asleep, so he dropped it quickly.

Nodding to yourself, you went to climb off his lap, but he quickly shushed you gently, holding you to his chest with one arm while the other reached for your backpack, laying next to the chairs.

Placing it on the table, you unzipped it, the alpha's palms placed on the side of your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently over your clothed skin. Taking out the old model laptop lent from the school, you let it boot up, the system taking long to get ready.

Opening it, the email tab was still open, and so with the new one in your inbox, you clicked on it right away, only to be left in disappointment since it was only the poster materials you had to put together.

„What's that?” Taehyung asked, placing his chin on your shoulder and watching the screen with you.

„It's for the poster I have to make... We were assigned to curate an exhibition at school, and these are the flyers and posters informations for it. I have to get it done until tomorrow morning.”

You said, your voice obviously a bit upset. You understood that you didn't do much until now regarding the project, but it wasn't because you didn't want to; it was your classmates that were just always unhappy with your work.

„Hm... That sounds like a lot. Do you want to do it on this laptop? Yoongi will for sure lend you his studio computer with no problem; it will be much easier there since you don't have a mouse and stuff...”

He gently tried to sway your decision, knowing that you would go through a lot less trouble if you would just use his packmates stuff or anyone else's at that point.

Whatever that notebook was, it was too beat up by now, had a full-on missing key on its keyboard, and just looked rough with how the screen would freeze even with how little you have been using it so far with him by your side.

„You think so? I don't know... I'm sure Yoongi-oppa has a lot of stuff to do right now anyway..." Even when your voice was quiet and the sizzling oil was quite loud, all three men heard you well.

Turning to you right away at your words, Yoongi took a step back from the pan, wiping his hands clean before walking to you with a quick pace and a gentle, gummy smile on his face. Cooing at you, he spoke softly.

„Oppa kitty?” Bending to match your height, he carresed your cheek sweetly; your gaze now on the ground, you suddenly overcame shyness.

„I mean, you all are older than me, so I thought...” You mumbled, hiding your hands behind your sweater. All three of them had smiles much larger than ever seen before, and without further hesitance, you felt the alpha pull you into his embrace.

„Aigoo.. of course you can call us that; we don't mind sweet kitten. When is your birthday, kitty?” the man said, gazing at you with soft eyes.

„July 1st, 2000.” You said this, holding his fingers gently, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

You heard his chest rumble loudly at your words. It was one of the traditional standards to have the alphas older than the weaker second genders in their pack.

„Let's eat now, before it gets cold. You can work on it later, small cub.” Jin said, already finishing up with the stir-frying of the ramen noodles, with a few small side dishes of rice and kimchi prepared too.

With Taehyung helping with the bowls, you went to take your own, but instead you were once again gently nudged to your spot, a ceramic bowl, and a pair of clean chopsticks handed to you.

„What would you like to drink, kitten? Do you want your peach juice again?” The alpha asked, already about to pull open the fridge.

„Maybe.. maybe I could have the strawberry syrup instead?” you asked, looking up at him questionably. He smiled softly at you, nodding before he poured you a glass of that instead.

„It is very yummy; just make sure you don't drink too much of it, alright? It's very sweet; you could get a tummy ache.” He murmured, growing slightly worried with no necessary reason to be. Placing the tall glass before you, you thanked him gently.

Serving you a full bowl of noodles, Jin made sure you were the first one to be able to eat, sprinkling on the greens and with the Jjapaguri glistening in the light, the food looked delicious.

And so you all dug in, the men watching over your reaction to the first bite. When Yoongi and Jin prepared it, they made sure to not use all of the powder; even when it wasn't that spicy to them, they knew that Taehyung and especially you could have trouble handling it well.

Chewing on your meal, you enjoyed it, but since you weren't that big of a fan of meat, you left a lot of it in the bowl, not finishing it. Drinking, you went to put your bowl back, Yoongi and Tae still eating while Jin had already finished.

Quick to pull you back by your hand, the alpha sitting next to you furrowed his eyebrows slightly. „What about the meat kitty? You need the protein; come on, baby, eat a little more. Is it not tasty?” He asked, looking over you, his chopsticks placed down for a bit.

„No, no, it's good, thank you. I'm just not a big fan of meat in general." You murmured, rubbing at your arm, slumped in your seat. The meal was truly delicious.

Only humming in reply, the alpha didn't take too long before he started to feed you the small pieces himself, allowing you to chew well in-between bites. Whenever you went to whine with another bite coming your way, he just shushed you gently.

„It's important to eat well, peaches.” Jin said from the counter, going over it with a wet towel to clean it well. After you had eaten most of the leftovers, you pushed the bowl away, really full.

Nodding at that, the alpha next to you finished his own meal in a few minutes before he picked up both of your bowls, cleaning them for you.

„Good job, my kitty. I'm proud of you for trying. Let's go to the studio now, yea?” Taking a hold of your palm, the older alpha led you to his studio that was downstairs, entering the code carefully before he opened the door, holding it for you.

It was much darker than Hobi's studio you were in earlier, and the first thing you noticed was the big, black and white carpet with the large letters KEEP OFF on it. The same type of armchair the other alpha had was also in front of the big desk, which held a bit more equipment this time around.

With around three big speakers on each side, one big monitor, and a flat TV screen like the other rapper had, the desk was littered with wires, devices, and things you just didn't understand well.

Taking a seat, the alpha was quick to pull you on his lap too, adjusting you so you were facing the same way. Patting your lower back slightly, he went to turn on the computer, the screen booting much quicker than yours did.

„Oh- I forgot my laptop-” You mumbled, making Yoongi turn to you only to ruffle your hair.

„It's all good, kitten. Alpha will take care of everything; don't you worry your cute little head about anything, my baby.”

He didn't seem even mildly annoyed; how come he wasn't? You were prolonging his time; he had to help you like this. How was he not upset?

Plucking you back on the seat after he stood up, he pushed the chair back to the desk, gently scenting you with his wrist glands while sneakily running his fingers through your hair.

„Wait for only a small bit, kitty; Alpha will be right back.” Shuffling out of the room. He wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans today and a simple white t-shirt with a loose, silk-like black shirt over it, left open.

Closing the doors softly after himself, the man walked over to the kitchen again, Jin and Taehyung watching the TV by now, some sort of cooking show on. He knew the eldest had been obsessed with western cooking competitions lately and could only assume that Taehyung was left to watch it with him.

The others were still at the company, and after he received a few messages from Jungkook about you, he also told him about them staying until about 19 in the evening.

They still had to record a part of their song, and Namjoon had to stay in to talk with a few of their managers about some new changes in their pack life, mostly regarding you.

It was supposed to be more of the usual Namjoon-only meeting, but after they talked about it in the morning at the company, most of them wanted to stay and be present.

Sure, he was the pack alpha, but in the end, all of them were alphas. They wanted to be up-to-date regarding, hopefully, their omega.

Picking up your backpack once again, he took it with himself, noticing the small Stich charm you had on the zipper pull. Were you a fan of that cartoon? You must be.

Christmas was only around the corner, since it was the 12th of December at the moment. All the alphas already had many gifts in mind they would want to spoil you with in the future, and Christmas was a great excuse to do so.

Smiling to himself, he unlocked the studio again, entering it with you still sitting in his chair, not touching anything. You were afraid you might break stuff, and you didn't want that to happen.

Placing the bag on his desk, he picked you up, taking a seat first before he pulled you to his chest once again, having you close as ever.

Taking the old laptop out, he pulled up the screen, and even if it was still turned on, it just didn't seem to work too well; the screen was black, and it took a few seconds before it switched on suddenly.

Frowning at that, he watched as you opened the email again with a file attached to it.

„I need that for the poster...” You said it quietly, turning a little to look at the man. His longer hair was tucked behind his ears as he watched your notebook.

„Yea, no problem, kitty. I can just send it to myself.” The alpha said, already noticing that anything like airdrop just wouldn't work on that thing you had. Making a new email, he quickly typed in his address, sending a copy to the computer on the desk.

Putting the laptop away again, the man pushed the chair a little closer, already opening up the attachment. This was much faster than yours, that's for sure.

With the word document opened, there were only a few things present: a few hex codes for colours your group agreed on, the font name, and a few pieces of information about when and where the exhibition would take place.

Noticing the many blank spots without words, Yoongi once again frowned a little.

„What about this? Featured artists? Why is it blank, kitty?” Running his fingers through your hair, the silver bracelets he wore jiggled a little.

„Yea, that's just... We still have to finish it tomorrow morning, I guess. We are having some issues... with a few of the students that are supposed to have their works exhibited."

You murmured, fingers hidden away. You heard him hum a little; a light dissatisfaction was noticeable. There wasn't much you could do about it now anyway, though.

„Alright. Here is a Photoshop you can use. I will help you if you need anything, sweetheart.” Yoongi said, helping you pull out the keyboard drawer underneath the desk. Nodding, you whispered a gentle thank you.

Switching between the two opened files, you made quick work, roughly finishing the idea you had before you would have to show it to your group tomorrow.

With the alpha gently running his hands over your back and through your hair, he was quick to help whenever you ran into any troubles.

You weren't used to working with Adobe; it has always been too expensive for you to afford, but after a few minutes, you adjusted well, only running into a few issues with different keyboard shortcuts you weren't used to.

You didn't perfect it yet, only spending about thirty minutes at maximum working on it, but you got the rough idea done, allowing you to sigh out and rest your back against Yoongi again.

Chuckling softly at you, he saved the file, gently rubbing your hair. „It looks very nice, sweet kitty. You did such a good job. Alpha is very proud. I'll send it to your email, okay?” Nodding, you let your face rest close to the crook of his neck, breathing in the rainy scent he wore.

Sending a copy of the file to you, you could hear just the faintest sound of voices. Realising that it wasn't Taehyung or the eldest, you turned your face towards the black doors right away.

Chuckling at how fast you moved, the alpha gently patted your tights, urging you to go look yourself.

„Go on, sweet kitty. I have to finish up some stuff here anyway." After sliding off of his lap, you took hurried steps towards the room entrance.

Opening the door, you shut it behind yourself, taking a few steps towards the living room. Already, you could smell their presence. You missed them in a way, and so you were excited to see them.

The first to notice you was Jungkook, jumping up from sitting on the couch and rushing towards you, scooping you up and holding you to his chest.

„My babybun!” The alpha laughed loudly, twirling you around a little. Giggling a bit yourself, your arms looped around his neck, your face soon tucked into his neck, his own cheek rubbing over your head virgously.

At the loud proclaim of the nickname the man has made for you, the others turned, the other three alphas soon coming closer to greet you themselves.

The first to come was Hobi. Excitedly laughing, he rubbed his palms over your face and collarbones, looking over your figure and noting your scent.

„Sunshine, ah.. I'm so glad to see you again! Alpha missed you so much, bub.” Twirling your hair around his finger softly, he tucked the lock behind your left ear. You only smiled shyly. „I missed you too, Hobi oppa.”

The alpha gasped loudly before he pulled you into his embrace once again, almost crushing you with how strongly he took you in.

Cradling you to himself, his chin went over your head a few times, ensuring that his own scent would stick to you. Cooing at you, he spoke.

„Aigoo.. baby, you will make my heart burst like this, you sweetest little thing.” He mumbled to your hair, petting your back. Pulling away after a few seconds, he let his packmates also have their greetings.

„Baby princess, my sweetheart, how was your day? Come here, let Alpha hold you for a little bit.”

Bending slightly to look over your shy, warmed-up face, Jimin cooed loudly before he pulled you to himself, arms wrapped around your waist.

Tucking your face into his neck scent gland, you felt calming waves come crashing on you. You felt content having all of the packmates with you now.

Pulling away a little, he bent his neck to be face-to-face with you, gently bopping your nose while giggling, the alpha's eyes creasing.

„We bought you something, princess!” He smiled, your eyes widening a little. A gift? What for?

Walking over, the pack alpha also wanted to have his greetings, pulling you from his younger packmate, he hugged you himself.

„Alpha is very happy to be with you now, sweet cub.” Was the only thing he murmured for a while; too busy getting his scent soaked well into your skin.

Satisfied after a few seconds, he didn't move away from you, instead picking you up and helping you wrap your legs around his waist. With one arm supporting you, he let his other palm rest over your head, gently having you rest against his collarbone.

Taking a seat on the couch, Jin and Taehyung were already watching the TV, and so after the other two alphas also came closer, you all huddled close together.

Jimin walked over, holding something behind his back. He stood before you and his pack alpha, not able to contain his smile.

You looked over, curious eyes open widely, and the other men gently chuckled at your excitement.

Namjoon's palms softly rubbed at your sides and hair; he just felt the need to make sure you were really okay after a day without them being close.

Pulling a giant paper bag from behind his back, you didn't even recognise the name; the dark grey cover with a few golden accents made even the huge bag look expensive.

Placing it softly on your lap, Jimin took a seat next to Jungkook on your right side. You noticed Hobi taking a video in the background, giggling to himself.

Gently opening it, you noticed the many things it contained, with air-sealed bags covering all of them. Your mouth fell a little agape, pulling out the first, big package. On the label, it read:

Experience the epitome of luxury with our cashmere blanket line. Immerse yourself in the unparalleled softness and warmth of this high-quality masterpiece. Indulge in the finest cashmere fibres, meticulously crafted to create a blanket that exudes opulence and sophistication. Elevate your moments of relaxation with this luxurious, oversized cashmere blanket from HIMALAYA.

Dry-clean only

85% Mongolian Cashmere + 15% Egyptian Cotton

290 X 255cm

It was cashmere? What? You never even felt that fabric in your life, but you knew this must have been tremendously expensive. And it wasn't even the only thing in the bag!

Looking up at the Alpha holding you on his lap, your eyes were twice as big in shock. The cream-coloured blanket was still air-sealed, making sure not to carry any scents.

He only chuckled at you, the pack alpha's dimples showing. Bopping his nose softly, he smiled.

„Alphas will always take the best care of their 'mega pup. Forever.”

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

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siriusleee · 10 months

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Like Blood on Iron | Part 2

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: mentions of blood, family dynamics, semi-forced marriage mention, implied age gap, future smut, future blood and gore.

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: I fall off in second chapters. Odd-number chapters are really my strength. Anyway, if you like the story and you'd like to donate to my ridiculous expensive wisdom teeth removal, consider donating a dollar. I only need 2,000.

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, comment below. If I cannot tag you, I will reply to your comment to let you know next chapter has been written.

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part one

part 3

Neither of you moves; the lighting crashes in the distance - electricity crackling in the air. Your anger at your family overcomes your fear of him; you stalk towards the water, hands reaching behind you to try and unlace the stays. The dress pulls uncomfortably at you, and you can't reach the back.

"Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to lecture me like last time?" You yell at him across the sand.

You come to a stop feet from the water, hands still fruitlessly trying to unlace your dress. He doesn't speak, and your anger grows. Your hands turn from trying to unlace your dress to being balled at your side.

"You're bleeding," his voice is low, nearly inaudible over the waves that threaten to crash into the two of you.

"It's nothing. Just a scrape." You feel his eyes on your hand; you move it behind your back so that he can't see it.

The silence grows, and your anger starts to wan - it feels strange to just stand there and say nothing so you turn away from him; you stare out at the dark ocean and rolling storm and wonder if you'll have to stay here all night. You don't know if you can go home and face your mother and father.

"You're unhappy," the execution says - voice flat and firm. As if he knows what's happened at home.

"You're the observant type."

He comes to stand beside you, cloak swishing on the dark sand. His presence is imposing, pushing you out of your comfort zone. You get the feeling that he's waiting on you to speak. It takes a moment of your thought; what repercussions could happen from explaining yourself to him? Who would he tell?

"My parents are forcing me to marry a man I don't want to marry. And I'm stuck in this stupid dress." It comes out of you all in one rush, a confession you didn't know you were making. You feel silly telling him your problems, but there's no one else to speak to.

"Is he a bad prospect?"

You scuff your shoe against the sand, carving a line between the two of you.

"No - that's the difficult part. He's perfectly fine. Perfectly nice. Nothing wrong with him at all - I don't like being forced into things."

Another pregnant pause.

"What would happen if you refused?"

You snort, and it hurts your ribs.

"I'll be sent to the convent to be a sister for the rest of my life."

"So you're unable to refuse." His voice is flat, empty but leading enough to make you want to talk.

You don't want to agree with him so you choose to ignore what he said, turning the conversation around to him.

"What are you doing here? I don't see anyone in need of beheading."

"I can't leave my own home?"

"I didn't say that."

You sink to sit in the sand and pull your shoes off. When your bare feet hit the sand you sigh, digging your toes into the warmth. After a moment, the executioner lowers himself down beside you; out of the corner of your eye you observe his clothes: black tunic and black pants, tucked into black boots. You suppose it comes with the occupation, the need to dress like midnight.

It's uncomfortable to sit there with the dress laced so tight, so you do something risky.

"Can you untie this dress, please? I can't breathe."

His hands twitch against his thigh.

"I can."

You turn slightly so that he can see the stays. His fingers are gentle, you can hardly feel them as he pulls on the string.

"I can't get them undone; whoever tightened them is an expert."

You let out a mirthless laugh at that.

"You can cut them for all I care - the dress is ruined anyway."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift, a flash of silver coming from beneath his cloak. He grabs the stays, pulling them back. There's a small snick and the bodice loosens all at once. You take the first decent breath you've taken all evening, your hands coming up to hold the bodice in place across your chest.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He slides the knife - the blade as long as your forearm - back into a sheath at his waist. So many questions clamber to the forefront of your thoughts. Why are you out here? is the one that slips from your lips first.

He answers you with a question of his own.

"Why did you come out here tonight?"

In the distance, you see something flash in the water. You keep your eyes trained on the horizon waiting for it to appear again, but it doesn't.

"I just needed to get somewhere I could breathe," you admit, thinking about the storm brewing at home.

"Likewise."

You trace patterns in the sand with your fingers before you speak again.

"How many times were you out here when I was?"

How many times did you see me through my chemise?

"A handful of times."

"And you never thought to say anything to me?"

He doesn't answer your question. The waves pull in closer, the tide coming in just reaching the two of you. A boldness takes over you - you push yourself to your feet, your bodice falling open. You pull the dress over your head, struggling for a moment before getting it free. You feel almost embarrassed by the thinness of your chemise, but you ignore it as you throw the dress to the side.

You don't look at the executioner as you wade out until the water is at chest level - everything is hidden. On the shore, the executioner looks politely to the side.

"You can look now! I'm assuming you have before."

"I've always looked away."

His tone is almost affronted. You can't help the grin that breaks out on your face.

"What is your name?" you ask, the warm water making you bold again. "I don't want to keep calling you 'the executioner' in my head."

"Why should I tell you my name; I don't know yours."

"You tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."

You think of the fairy tales Mother used to tell you when you were young: about fae in the woods, merfolk sunning on the beach, ghouls under the bridge. Never tell them your name she'd whisper dramatically, because your name has power in it.

"You can call me Ghost."

"That's not your real name is it?"

"No."

You level a look at him - his brown eyes barely visible in the darkness. It's part of being the executioner, you know, the loss of the name you were given under god as a child. You wonder if you can remember the last time anyone knew his real name.

You tell him your name, calling across the water to him. The power is his now.

You dive under the water until you can touch the bottom, scraping the dark sand with your fingertips. You push yourself towards the shore, skimming the bottom until you have to resurface for air. You keep yourself down in the water so that everything is still covered. Ghost has shifted in the sand, one leg stretched out in front of him.

"Why do you wear the hood? Do you ever take it off?"

"Sometimes."

"And the mask?"

"Don't you think you're asking a lot of questions?" His timber goes down half an octave - a warning for you to stop prying. He speaks again, getting you off of the subject of himself. "Do you plan to stay out here all night?"

"I suppose I have to. If I go home now my mother will probably use the whip on me."

"Has she done it before?"

"Once when I accidentally set my sister's bed on fire."

"Accidentally?"

"I swear."

Lightning crashes, close enough now that you can feel the vibrations; the sound is like a cannon in your ears. Pushing yourself out of the water, you clamber back toward your clothes. Ghost keeps his eyes on the horizon as you lift the dress, too ruined to put back on.

"Damn it," you mutter, "I'm going to have to run home in this."

"I thought you weren't going home?"

"Where else am I going to go in the middle of a storm? I'll just have to brave the whip. Unless you know somewhere I can hide for the night."

There's the sound of Ghost standing behind you; you're too busy trying to plot a way to make it home without anyone seeing you notice how close he is to you until he drips his cloak over your shoulders, heavy and warm. The smell of him envelops you.

"My mother is going to whip me if I come home in this," you mutter to yourself, pulling it around you - it pools at your feet, too long for you to hold up.

"Tell her you stole it," Ghost says, stepping around you, and for the first time, you see him without the cloak. Without the cloak, he seems larger, with a black tunic and pants, tucked into black boots. His mask, smeared with white ash, wraps around and covers everything but his eyes. The smell of him envelops you as you pull the hood of the cloak over your head to protect yourself from the coming rain.

"Yes, because that will make everything better."

You try not to stare at him as rain droplets start to fall, heavy and fat against the hood of the cloak. It feels almost intimate to see him like this, to see the distinct curves of his body, the way his tunic falls open, just slightly at the top.

"Anyway, I need to get home before the storm rolls in. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Like before, he walks up the steep and slippery path before you. You follow, far enough behind that you can stare at him as he walks, committing his shape to memory. At the top, he leaves you and you watch him until he disappears into the darkness. The rain is heavy and fast when you finally turn back home. Your feet squeal in the mud as you walk, the bottom of the cloak becoming caked in it, your shoes held in your hands to save them from the mud.

The house is cold when you walk in - lighting thrashing in the background. You're met with silence; you step on the sturdy spots of the floor, trying to keep anyone from hearing you. It's dark and you have hope that everyone is asleep and you can clean up and slide into bed without anyone noticing. But that hope is dashed when you hear Mother's voice from the sitting room.

"You finally made it back."

Her voice is like swallowing a sliver of ice.

"Get in here."

You don't dare disobey - the half-veiled threat of the whip is barely hidden in her voice. You keep the cloak pulled tight around you as you step lightly into the room. She's still completely dressed - her hair so perfect there's not one flyaway. She doesn't look at you as you walk in, hesitating in the doorway. The light from the oil lamp bounces off of her.

When she finally looks at you, her eyes narrow, eyeing the cloak. Your heart picks up, wondering what she's going to say about it.

"Sit down."

You ease into the seat across from her, trying to keep the fact that you've left Maggie's dress behind. The silence grows pregnant by the second, until Mother leans across to you, a letter in her hand. She holds it out to you, shaking it when you don't take it. It's heavy in your hand, the parchment thicker than a usual letter.

"What is this?"

"Read it."

You unfold the parchment and read with growing horror. Each line is a nail inside a proverbial coffin.

"You can't be - how long have you had this?"

Mother doesn't look at you as she smoothes the invisible wrinkles in her skirt. She chooses each of her words carefully, biting them off in small chunks.

"I obviously can not stop you from sneaking off to wherever it is that you have been going at night, or stop you from seeing whoever you go see," her eyes linger at the opening of the cloak, a sliver of your underdress showing. "But I am tired of having you act like a child. Your sisters have no problem with following the rules around here - I don't know why you can't."

You try to interrupt her, but she holds her hand up to stop you.

"I contacted the covenant last year. They have a spot ready for you. I can send you today if you wish to be rid of here that badly. But I am tired of this. You made an embarrassment of all of us. By some grace, Jonathan is still willing to marry you; although it does make me question his judgment. You will marry him as soon as he gets back."

"Gets back? From where? When?"

"He is going on one of your father's boats on its trip. It leaves tomorrow evening - and should be back in six months. He was going to tell you that last night."

Your stomach rolls, and you feel like throwing up. She stands, and even though she's no taller than you, she seems like a giant at that time.

"I will not stop you from doing whatever it is that you do when you sneak out at night or stop you from seeing whoever it is. But I will send you away if I need to. In six months you will be a wife or you will be gone. And that is the end of this conversation."

She doesn't look at you as she sweeps out of the room. You can hear her walk up the stairs, and then the door of her bedroom slam shut.

You tread up the stairs lightly, listening for sounds of Lily or Maggie, but there are none. Your room is empty, the bed made up and everything swept away. You drop down to the end of the bed - completely frozen by the idea of being sent away to be locked up behind a habit.

Stiffly, you strip your clothes off. The wash basin water is ice cold, but it does good enough to rise the mud and ocean off of your skin - you know tomorrow it'll be hell to get the knots out of your hair, but that's not a problem you want to worry about right now.

The bed is cold without Lily in the bed, and the sound of the storm racks your nerves. You think of Ghost, walking in this storm to the edge of the village, and wonder if he's made it to safety. After a moment, you pull the cloak up, forgetting the mud at the bottom, and drape it over yourself, the smell of Ghost washing over you to lull you to sleep.

You're woken by the sunlight hitting your face and a banging at the door. Maggie bursts in, hair damp with a sour expression.

"Do you need to wash your hair? There's still warm water if you need it." She crosses the room and jerks Ghost's cloak off of you. "Where did you get this? It's disgusting."

"I stole it," your voice is thick with sleep, "and thank you for telling me."

"Well, I figured you would want to wash after being out last night?"

"Why are you saying it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I was out up to no good."

"Seriously? You came home without my dress and with a stranger's cloak. It has to be a man's, no woman in the village is this tall. I'm not stupid."

"I told you I stole it."

Maggie sighs, her wet hair leaving a small damp spot on her shoulder. Her hands wring at her skirt, wrinkling the material - something you know she's going to fret about later. She hesitates in the doorway and then crosses quickly to the end of the bed.

"You know last night-"

"Please don't start Maggie, I am not in the mood to hear you lecture me. In fact, I would appreciate it if you just kept it to yourself."

Maggie stares you down before turning on her heel and storming out. Your head is thick as you push yourself up to stand. A headache threatens the back of your eyes, a pressure that threatens to build throughout the day. There's a stale taste in your mouth that mixes with iron like you've bitten your cheek in your sleep.

You hear the general sounds of people downstairs, the heavy tread of your father's boots on the floor, and the sound of the front door slamming shut. You dress quickly, washing your hair until the ocean salt is gone.

Lily waits for you at the bottom of the stairs, twirling her hair around her fingers - a nervous habit no one has ever been able to break her of. You drop down beside her, pulling her hair from her fingers gently.

"You keep doing that and you're going to go bald."

"Where were you last night?"

You shrug dramatically, leaning back so that your elbows are supporting you.

"I got lost, and then I had to fight off a wild roving band of bears. That tore my dress, so I had to sneak into someone's backyard and steal their cloak from where it was drying. Then I got caught, so I had to run through the mud and rain home."

Lily giggles at you before her hands find her hair to tug on it again.

"You know everyone is mad at you."

"I do. As long as you're not, it doesn't matter."

"Mother is going to make you get a wedding dress this week. I heard her tell Father that we needed to take a trip to the seamstress."

You sigh, fingers tracing the worn wood grain of the steps. Years of your family tracing a passage up and down has written the story of the house: your grandfather, carrying your father downstairs in a wrapped bundle, your Mother so heavily pregnant that she needed a cane to walk, you and Maggie bashing your knees against the wood chasing your father, you carrying Lily up on your back when the sprained her ankle last spring. And in six months you'll be a memory to it.

"I figured she would do that soon. I look horrible in white. Maybe a nice black; I can always wear it again in mourning." You lean forward to look into the empty kitchen. "Where is everyone?"

"Maggie went out - I don't know where she didn't say. Father went to see his ship off, Mother went to the church. It's just me and you."

A plan hatches in your chest, radiating outward in the seconds of silence that come through the house. You stand, pulling Lily up with you.

"Come on. I have an idea."

***

"We shouldn't be here - we're going to get in trouble," Lily whines, one hand on the back of your skirt, the other holding a basket.

"No, we're not. If anyone sees us, what are we doing?"

"Looking for Danesblood and yarrow." She repeats back to you what you coached her to say before the two of you left.

"And why are we doing that?"

"Because you twisted your knee last night and you need to make an ointment for the pain."

"Right."

The two of you crouch in the thick underbrush across from Ghost's cabin - a building off-limits to everyone in the village save for the judge and the council. In the daylight it's small and unassuming, the slight smoke curl wafting from the chimney almost pastoral. You remember once when Father had to visit the old executioner, the day before an emergency execution to sign off on it with the other council members. He'd come back shaken and refused to speak about it.

"What are we even doing out here?" Lily asks, breath hot against your neck as you crouch down, scanning the road to the left and right to see if anyone is near.

"I need to return this cloak," you tell her, holding the neatly wrapped cloak in your hands. You'd quickly scrubbed it free of mud, pressing it to your face to breathe in the smell of Ghost before running downstairs to pull Lily into the street with you. She'd worried the entire time here, nettles snagging at your skirts as the two of you crept through the woods to keep from being seen.

"You stole it from him!" she squeaks, voice rising to a pitch only dogs can hear.

"Hush!" You chide, pressing one finger to your lip before turning back to the street. "And yes. I stole it right off his drying line. It was very brave."

"You're a liar!" Her voice rises a pitch.

"Just hush and stay here. Don't move no matter what."

"What if he kills you?"

"You can go home then."

You take a deep breath, gather your skirts in one hand, and dash across the road. At the door, you drop the cloak, knock on the door once, and turn on your heel to run. You can make out Lily's face, eyes pale as she peers in fear. You make it beside her, turning just in time to see the door shut.

"Do you think he saw me?" You ask Lily, breathless.

"I think he did. Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

You don't answer her, just pull her back towards the village. At the edge, the two of you pause before melding back into the streets. You grab her hand, pulling her towards the bustling market street to seem like you've been there for hours.

"Come on," you say, pulling her, "let's get home."

The walk is tense, the two of you expecting at any moment to get caught by someone who can feel what the two of you were just doing. But no one stops you as you walk - no one stops you as the two of you cross onto your street, no one-

The sound of your name stops you and Lily short. Behind you Maggie walks, a quick shuffle, her hair falling around her face. She strides towards the two of you; grabbing Lily's wrist she pulls her away from you and tries to tuck Lily behind her back.

"What were you up to?"

"Nothing, we-"

"Don't be a liar."

You've never thought about hitting Maggie, but at this moment, you think about shoving her down into the dirt. Maggie breathes hard through her nose, her grip on Lily's wrist bruising.

"Lily doesn't need you dragging her into the messes that you keep getting yourself into."

"Maggie I swear-"

You don't get any words out, your anger blistering as you watch Maggie drag Lily back towards the house. Lily looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes apologizing, her feet causing rivets in the dirt. You watch as the front door of the house swings shut.

****

That evening finds you on the pier, your feet dangling toward the water, a sense of freedom finally overtaking you for the day. Here with no one ignoring you or speaking to you as if you were simple, and no one in the village whispering about your engagement behind your back.

Boots hit the wood behind you, and you recognize the tread pattern. When he's close enough to you, he speaks.

"Not hiding in the cove tonight?"

"No - I figured that my mother is hell-bent on running my days and that I will do what I want with my nights." You turn towards him, expecting his normal cloak, but instead being met without it. He looms over you in his all-black attire, eyes shining around his mask.

"You know I returned your cloak today."

"I saw that, thank you. Does my presence scare you so much that you needed to run?"

You scoff, moving over so that he can come to stand beside you.

"No. But my little sister is terrified of you, and I didn't need to scare her by stopping to have a chat."

You push yourself to your feet, your head coming to Ghost's shoulder. You turn on your heel, heading back towards the shore - you turn to see Ghost still standing at the end of the pier, eyes cast towards the horizon.

"Are you going to stand there all night or would you like to go on a walk?"

It takes a moment, but he turns back towards you.

"A walk?"

"Yes. I'm not sitting on this uncomfortable pier all night long, and I don't feel like swimming tonight. I'm going on a walk - you're welcome to come with me if you wish."

Ghost catches up to you by the time you reach the end of the pier, falling into step beside you, hands clasped behind his back. The two of you stride back towards the main section of the village, window shutters closed tight on each house.

"You're not worried about being seen with me?" Ghosts ask as the two of you round a side street - shadows long and thick across the road.

"Who is there to see us? It's long past midnight. Everyone is asleep but us."

The sound of your feet on the hard ground reverbs off of the houses, the swish of your skirt, and the sound of his boots filling the air. The air is blistering, the moisture from the storm steaming in the night air.

"Do you intend to walk the streets every night?" Ghosts ask, voice deadpanned.

"Well, considering no one in my house is speaking to me and my mother is going to make me go to the seamstress for a wedding dress this week, I think the nighttime is the best time for me to be out."

"Seems like a waste of money since every dress you seem to own ends up covered in seawater and sand." You can't tell if he's teasing or not, but you cut your eyes at him anyway. You give a sarcastic laugh, clasping your hands behind your back in a pantomime of his posture.

"My mother is probably going to tie me up on the wedding day so that I can't leave the house. So you will just have to do without seeing me strip that dress off."

Ghost lets out an annoyed 'humph' that you can't help but smile at. Your feet carry you onto the main street - the execution platform ahead of you two. Your feet falter, Ghost pausing alongside you. Even in the dark of the night, the execution platform has a dark hue around it.

Ghost starts ahead of you, erasing any questions you have from the air. His spine is rigid, and you can sense his discomfort rolling in waves off of him. Neither of you speaks until the platform is behind the two of you.

"Do you ever sleep?" You finally ask as the two of you walk down the market street.

"Why does it matter?"

"Well, most people sleep at night?" You say as if you're explaining something to a small child.

"You're here with me."

"I sleep once I get home. But do you sleep?"

"Occasionally."

The conversation drops until your house looms in the distance. You stop at the front, Ghost pausing with her.

"This is where I stop for the night. I do need sleep after all."

Ghost doesn't speak, just stares down at you with blank eyes.

"I may see you tomorrow night. Goodnight."

You don't wait for him to say goodnight, but as the door shuts behind you, you swear you hear him whisper it.

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythots, @hearts4sky, @devcica, @crystalizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0th3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild

#my fics #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare 2

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djmorn · 3 months

Note

God that wing care was so good. I love this warlock Tav scenario. I hope you write more of them in the future. Thank you for your work!

Thank you kindly, dear anon, and everyone else for your sweet responses to the ‘Wing Care’ bit.

You know, you are the second person to suggest a continuation of this and when writing it I honestly did not even think that there could be more to this little ficlet but I am very willing to provide. Thanks for the inspiration and giving me opportunity to return to these two yet again.

So here is a part deux for you all who enjoyed the first one. I hope this will serve your ‘pampering the devil’ needs once more.

You arrived home satisfied at a job fulfilled. And fulfilled quite well you might add, granting you the opportunity in feeling pride at your skill as a warlock and an excellent debt collector, the bane of negligent contractors. Raphael was lucky to have taken you under his wing. You smiled at the memory of your meeting in the Devil’s Den. The fiend had been obviously pleased at you taking care of his… damaged goods. It was easy to tell by the way he had been so eager to quickly fill you in on your assignment, the intended reason of his visit.

Now that that had been dealt with you could finally indulge in some relaxation of your own and let yourself fall onto your bed, legs dangling down by the side since you still had your boots on. You shifted to untie the laces when suddenly your gaze fell upon your desk at the edge of your chambers. On it you could spy a parchment and something that looked like a small vial that had not been there when you’d left this morning.

With a sigh you got up again, unable to quench your curiosity. Upon closer inspection you immediately recognised your master’s elegant scrawl:

I HOPE your assignment went well and that my unfortunate debtor has been dealt with accordingly and as I should expect of a warlock in my services. It just so happens that I require them again. As soon as possible. Be sure to bring the vial with you.

See you soon

You squint your eyes at the letter. What could Raphael possibly want now? He did have other warlocks at his disposal, why yet again pester you with more work? After you handling his bruised wings with such care you at least expected him to be a bit more negligent with you with any further missions.

Returning the parchment to your desk again you took a closer look at that vial. Turning it around in your hands you spied a small label attached to the glass. Your Infernal could still use some work but you were sure the text read ‘massage oil’.

The portal took you straight to the House of Hope. Raphael was already awaiting you in the entrance hall.

‘Ah. My dutiful little warlock. How considerate of you to aid my call so soon.’ He spread his hands out wide in welcome. As well as his wings.

You were delighted to see they had returned to their former glory. By the Nine, did the devil heal up fast. Even for a cambion.

As usual you bowed to him respectfully. ‘When my master beckons I answer.’

‘And how wise of you to do so,’ he said. ‘I presume our heedless and pitiful customer has been taken care of?’

‘Just as you wished, Raphael. Yet another poor unfortunate soul added to your gory collection.’

He beamed at you. ‘Good. All the better to move on to your next task with haste. How is your Infernal these days?’

‘Well enough to have read the label on this.’ You held up the vial containing the oil. ‘Although the meaning behind it still escapes me.’

The devil threw you a conspiratorial smirk. ‘Be a good little mouse and make a clever guess.’

‘Well, this is far from the ointment I applied to your wings the other day. And I can see they are bereft of any fissures tonight. Do you want me to force this down some other contractor’s throat to leave them unable to escape a terrible curse of their bowels?’

Raphael chuckled. ‘No, you silly goose,’ he said with amusement. ‘By your enthralling display of care in Sharess’ Caress I’ve come to the realisation that I have been quite negligent of my own comfort and welfare lately. I don’t allow myself to indulge myself as often as I should. After all, you do want your sweet master to stay healthy and vigorous to take care of you, don’t you?’ And he tilted his head questioningly.

‘So,’ you began carefully. ‘You want me to do what now? Do it again but this time make it a proper massage?’

Now Raphael frowned at you and you could feel yourself tensing up at your patron’s patience wearing thin. ‘Is that not far better than sending you out through the mud and undergrowth of a stinking swamp? You should know that the next debtor on my list is quite the hermit.’ He examined his nails languidly. ‘But I guess if the prospect of spending time with me – taking care of your master is such trouble I might as well draft you a map of his abode in just a minute.’

You quickly threw your hands up in defense. ‘No, no, no,’ you said, throwing him a disarming smile. ‘I apologise, Raphael. It’s no trouble at all. I’m just surprised is all.’

His eyes roamed over you, still sparkling with skepticism. ‘Mhmm. All right. Then follow me.’

Raphael led you to his boudoir. You had never been invited inside. Before you unveiled the most lavish bed chambers one could imagine. The middle of the enormous room hosted a steaming bath which the devil approached. Quite obviously he wanted to take the same approach as last time, sitting down together at the edge of the pool while you would work your magic on his wings. Confidently you followed the steps of your patron but came to a sudden stop when he went to remove his belt. With a snap of his fingers his doublet and shirt followed suit. And so it was that the devil you had sworn your loyalty to stood right in front of you, upper body laid bare for you to worship.

‘I figured since you don’t have any fissures and bruises that need taking care of tonight I might offer you some more playroom.’

How very kind of him.

Raphael sat down and pat the space next to him. You heeded his unspoken instruction.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘Do you have everything you need?’

‘Um, yes,’ you said. ‘Only… Where… Where would you like me to start?’

‘Oh, I find myself to be just a little tense in the neck and shoulders. Why don’t you start there and work your way further down, hmm, little mouse?’

‘All right.’ You removed the cork from the vial he’d left you and poured a good bit of the liquid onto your hand, then put the container carefully aside, mindful to not knock it right into the water next to you. Smearing your hands thoroughly with the oil you began to wonder at this admittedly ridiculous situation you had found yourself in. Taking care of your master’s wounds had been an act made out of duty, and Raphael had been so opposed to the idea when you had first suggested it that it now seemed almost dubious of him wanting to return to this scenario again, and so soon at that.

Oh, well. The whims of the infernal, you thought to yourself, then put your hands to your master’s back.

You hadn’t thought it possible but Raphael’s shoulders were indeed quite tense. The way he always carried such an air of confidence about him there had not been a doubt in your mind that his limbs would be more slackened. How he continued to prove you wrong tonight.

Oil coated hands brushed over his warm skin and you let your fingers dig into the parts from where his strong shoulders protruded, massaging him in a way that was a blend of firm and gentle. The sigh coming from the cambion told you it was the perfected mixture.

‘Yes,’ he said, encouraging you on. ‘That feels good. Don’t stop with the shoulder just yet.’

Continuing your attention at his desired spot you could not help but ask: ‘Say, Raphael. I am quite flattered that you would invite me to… do this for you, but I cannot help but wonder why. Why me?’

Of course you knew about his incubus. Raphael knew that you knew. ‘Haarlep is not nearly as talented in the arts of pleasure as they’d have you believe. No, anything that goes beyond one’s carnal needs is out of their expertise. Big hands and claws? No, thank you. This is much better.’

You beamed when Raphael practically purred as your palm found its way towards the back of his neck, rubbing it with care. The oil was dripping and you were in need of replenishment but barely dared to remove your hands from him. Truth be told – with Raphael nothing short from a moaning mess, this massage had turned into quite the sensual ordeal.

‘I’m gonna need some more lotion,’ you said apologetically. ‘Your skin is so warm it pretty much turns the oil into thin air.’

The devil said nothing, patiently waiting for you to reapply the liquid to your loving palms and continue. When you put your hands back onto your master an odd little smile flitted across your lips, satisfied at having him so pliant under your touch.

‘There is nothing that could make me keep you from doing whatever that magic is.’

You bit your tongue wanting to tell him this is what the dirty mortals he thought so beneath him called basic affection, not wanting to risk an outburst of temper and saddened at the thought that he truly just might be unaware.

Finally you moved onto the base of his wings, lovingly curling your thumbs around them, then moving over to massage the joints of his left wing once more.

‘It is incredible how well you’ve healed up. There’s not a bruise to be seen.’

‘My dear, us devils do have a knack for this kind of stuff, you know?’ He paused. ‘Although, I do believe I also have you to thank for it. In parts, of course.’

You thought back on the battles of his youth he’d told you about and wondered if there had been someone there for him too. Taking care of him. This time you dared to breathe your musings to him: ‘Has anyone else done this for you before?’

Raphael was silent again, and for a moment you thought he would simply refuse to answer. Then he gave away a quiet ‘No,’ quickly followed by ‘Just be careful with the skin there, yes? It is a little sensitive still.’

With the tips of your nails you gently caressed the membrane. The wing twitched. But this time not from pain. Maybe Raphael was a bit ticklish?

‘Where did you learn all this?’

‘Well, I have given massages before, you know? Never to someone with wings, mind you. I’m just doing what I think would feel nice.’

‘It does,’ Raphael said. ‘It does feel nice.’

You smiled to yourself again, proud that you could lend him your services as more than a warlock. As you moved on to his right wing you could feel something wrap around your ankle. It was his tail! Holding you tight. Was this something that happened unconsciously with devils? You could not imagine your patron showing his appreciation for your ministrations like that.

Deciding to give it no further thought because you could feel your cheeks blushing you poured out the rest of the massage oil into your palms and went to rub it all over Raphael’s back, eliciting the most delightful groan from your devil. You went on stroking, caressing, and kneading his skin until your hands were all but dry, then you finally removed them from him.

‘Well,’ you said. ‘I guess that’s the rest of the oil.’

The cambion quickly removed his tail from your ankle as if awakening from a strange dream and turned towards you. ‘I’ll make sure to get a bigger bottle next time.’

He drew his hand closer to your face, and lightly brushed his claw along your jaw. ‘Thank you, little mouse. If you should ever find yourself tensed up yourself I might be generous enough to return the favour.’

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff #request #kinda (sorry for just going off there anon i don't know if this is a bit encroaching on my part lol)#asks #anon #excuse me but the future is NOW anon #anon i am sorry i got carried away

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shady-shrub · 6 months

Text

me. posting about npmd? its more likely than you think.

I LOVE THE COSTUMES!!! been thinking about it. saw someone's else's post and haven't seen anyone else go crazy over it????

let's look at the lords in black!!

1. everyone has fur!!

pokey has it around his colar and cuffs. tinky on his shoulder pads. blinky on his belly! and nibbly on his arms.

now. you may be wondering, what about wiggly?? WELL.

BRO GETS TO JUST. BE 2 IN ONE??? he really decided to be backpack. WHAT A WEIRDO GOOBLY MONSTER.

i dont have a lot of indepth reason for the locations of the fur? mayhaps pokey because that's where puppet strings would go (and he controls people in tgwdlm and yellow jacket). and mayhaps wiggly is different because he's stronger?

IF YOU HAVE BETTER THOUGHTS THAN ME PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN EAT THEM- i mean agree and have a normal conversation.

anywho.

2. shoes!!

I DO! have things to say separately about shoes ehdheheh.

pokey is SO BLUE!! bro has blue tights that melt into the shoes seemingly. a connection to everything being SIGNULAR. that's a stretch BUT! they look like stereotypical shoes in a theater closet (not blue but the shape). as some one in theater, the shoes are usually uncomfy and pointy NOW. these shoes look comfy but theyre still pointy! i dont know much about shoes but yes.

TINKY!!! BWHAHWBbahah.

bro has work boots? these look like my dad's. LOOK AT THAT UNTIED SHOE LACE!! he does NOT care. love him for it. it does look a lil dirty? thats about it.

BLINKY!!!!!!!!! HOLY. (lauren is insane) LOOK AT THAT HEIGHT!! i hc that its to be tall like his taller brothers (wiggly.) AND LOOK THEYRE SHINY!!! and so are the pants??? YUMMYYY!! and tied so nicely?? bro is popping off

NIBBLY!!

LOOK AT THE!!! HIS HEART STRAPS???? ya know that person that said nibbly is the youngest? YES. LOOK AT THOSE STRAP ONS!! and the pink outlines I LOVE SO MUCH?? same height thing with blinky pshxbfjf it looks so much like a lil kid would wear <3 <3 nibbly my beloved

now. we're back to wiggly.

JON. ARE THOSE YOUR TOESY WOSIES??? everyone else dressed up all nice and wiggly just. didn't. I WILL SAY! black and white socks?? LIKE THE BLACK AND WHITE WEAR THEY RESIDE??? also!!! shiny pants again?? blinky and wiggly are matching what silly gooses!

nah guys let's actually look at his shoes

OKAY THERES A THEME GUYS. wiggly is actually trying to be a human in high school. the backpack, the shoes, the GOSH DARN JACKET??

sorry quick interjection. EVERYONE ON OF THE LORDS IN BLACK LOOK SO GOOD. like people you'd find in school. pokey is obviously theater kid. nibbly a girly girl with skirt but he is also the hungriest guy at lunch. wiggly the popular kid WITH THOSE KICKS. WITH THAT CROWN. blinky looks like a quiet kid. and tinky the weird kid with wacky hair and glasses on his head and pants over his boots and.

OKAY i think im done right now.

side notes:

blinky's sweater looks so comfy!!

BLUE SHIT??? ON HIS FACE??? also gotta love the hat

favorite screenshot of silly guy himself. HIS HAND IS AT A 90 DEGREE ANGLE. LOOK. LOOK. LOOK HIS HAND IS BROKEN.

okay bye

#lords in black #wiggly #tinky #blinky #nibbly #pokey #EHDUDHDHRU #SILLY GUYS #THEYRE SO GOOFY #I LOVE THE THE!!! COSTUME DESIGNS #guys i wanna talk about graces braccelets #GUYS ITS SO COOL!!!#npmd #i love this musical

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tempestuous-lush · 2 years

Text

October 10 | uniform, handcuffs | Shane Walsh

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

summary: Here is my next kinktober entry. It actually continues my first one! Shane gets a bit of payback for how the reader treated him.

warnings: handcuffs, restraint, orgasm denial, unexpected creampie, oral (male and female recieving), unprotected sex

tags: @sweetieswiftie @slavic-empress

You had been avoiding Shane ever since you left him tied up in bed, covered in the mess you made.

So now, when you were caught speeding to work, you wanted to hide as Shane walked to your car.

“Well, well…”

Your face turned red from the memory of how he looked, and you turned the AC way up. The cool air did nothing to save you, however. Shane’s boots stopped crunching in the gravel along the side of the road and from your peripheral you watched his hips turn so that he could face you before he squatted down to look you in the eyes. He sucked on his front teeth before cracking a smile, “If it isn’t my captor from last Saturday. Been keeping an eye out for you little lady. You know, I think it’s illegal to restrain a police officer. What do you think?”

“Well…” You ignored the surge of arousal at the memory, “I think your commanding officer might have a few questions about just how you were restrained…officer.”

He huffed before running his tongue along his bottom lip, “S’that right?”

“So, if you don’t mind officer I am running late for work. So, write a ticket or do what you have to, but make it snappy, yeah?” You gave your best attempt at batting your eyelashes.

Shane laughed softly before looking at the ground and back up at you, running a hand through those thick curls. Then he stood up and simply stated, “Step out of the car for me, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes. You shouldn’t have said a damn thing. So, you swung the door open, barely missing him as he jumped back. Then, you stood up and leaned against your car. You worked at the bar, and you were dressed for it, alright. Those high waisted denim shorts that always had Shane wanting to grab you and pull you close, legs in fishnets, feet in combat boots. You were also wearing a shirt of his, he realized, when he saw the faded gray with police written across your chest. That was when he also realized you didn’t have on a damn bra. He wasn’t sure why you felt so comfortable out in public like that but damn it he didn’t complain. He looked away and laughed, brown eyes slowly falling back on the letters, “Police, huh?”

God damn it. That was all you could think as he looked at you like that. You could tell what he was thinking about. The promise in those brown eyes left you barely resisting squeezing your legs together to relieve the sudden tension you felt there. You bit your lower lip. You couldn’t help it. Shane’s eyes darkened as you responded, “Yeah...been considering joining. Think I’d make a uniform look rather good. What do you think, officer?”

Shane watched as you stretched a little, arching your back and pushing out those damn perfect tits before looking around and running a hand through your hair, “So, you asked me to step out of my vehicle. I did. And…now what? Wasting a pretty girl’s time, or what?”

“You know, I reckon you actually owe me one.”

You scoffed, “Owe you?”

“Well, after you blue balled me…”

You started laughing and pushed his chest playfully, “That’s why I sent Sarah, silly.”

He nodded as he rubbed his chin, “Yeah, and after she cut me down because she didn’t know how to untie your knots”-

-“it ain’t my fault sweetie she doesn’t know how to untie some rope so”-

-“and I sent her on her way”-

-“I’d only be impressed if you had done that while we were actually dating.”

At those words Shane shut up, opting to stare you at you with unresolved tension instead. You could see those jaw muscles working and you smiled sweetly, “Alright Shane, if we are done here…”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

That was when, much to your shock, Shane turned you around and pulled your hands behind your back. Everything was so fast, and you were distracted by how damn good he smelled and how it felt with the way his leg was pressed between yours to keep you in place, that you didn’t notice the handcuffs were out until they were clicked around your wrists. That was when you pushed back against him and elbowed him in the chest, “Shane Walsh, let me go right now!”

“Easy girl…” Shane whispered in your ear, which caused you to still. You breathed angrily as he commented, “Don’t want to add resisting arrest, do we?”

“Why the hell are you cuffing me asshole?”

“Why darlin’ you have outstanding warrants for multiple unpaid tickets.”

“The ones that you said you would fix?”

“The very same ones that I never got around to fixing, yes.”

“Asshole.”

“Rich coming from you.”

He pulled a bit roughly at your arms and opened the back door of his police cruiser, ignoring the profanity that you were throwing his way. Instead, all he said was “watch your head” as he more or less pitched you into the back seat. It left you falling face first with your ass in the air. A sight he didn’t mind. Then, as he slid into his seat and you got into a sitting position, you kicked with an exhale at the back of his seat. He chuckled, “I didn’t know you had so much fight in your darlin’.”

You kicked again before settling down, “Eat me.”

“I already did that, darlin’. Got anything else for me to do, or are you gonna sit there looking pretty in my handcuffs like a good girl?”

You looked down and tried to calm your breathing. His words ignited something inside of you, and you felt yourself beginning to grow slick. Your lower lip found itself between your teeth and Shane started the car, “Darlin’ you better keep that lip of yours out of those teeth.”

You instantly let it go and exhale deeply, your legs rubbing together as you shift in the seat. Your eyes bore into the back of his head as you get lost in the thoughts of just how good his mouth felt the other night…how fat his cock was and-

-“Shane you just passed the police station.”

“Figured I’d give you a minute darlin’.”

The smile on his voice had you confused until you realized your body was betraying you, hips slowly moving at the thoughts you’d been having, the friction you needed barely granted by the material of your shorts firmly pulled against your clit. There was an obvious bit of dampness on the fabric. You looked off to the side and just muttered, “Fuck you.”

“I think, deep down, hell maybe not even that deep”- Shane smirked at you in the rearview mirror, -“you’d actually like for me to fuck you. Tell me if I’m wrong.”

The frustration you felt when you realized you couldn’t say it, because he’d be able to call you on your bullshit. So instead, a sound of frustration left you as you slammed your back down on the seat and laid out. Shane pulled over on the side of the road and looked back at you, mischief in his eyes before he licked those lips and asked you a question, “What do you say I take you somewhere darlin’, treat you how you like, and then you can tell me how much you still hate me after, yeah?”

You thought of him again the other night. It had been so long since you’d had someone fuck you. Hell, this asshole had been the last one to do it. Besides, he looked damn good in that uniform. You sighed, “I think that sounds like a good deal, officer.”

Soon, Shane was opening the back door of the cruiser and helping you out. You realized where you were, and you couldn’t help letting out a little laugh. He kept the handcuffs on, which definitely excited you more than it should have, and led you across a field to the hunting cabin he had, the dark settling in keeping you both relatively hidden from sight. There was humor in your voice as you asked, “So is this what you do while on duty, officer?”

“Darlin’ I was already off of work when I pulled you over”- he paused to kiss the back of your neck, his tongue trailing slightly in a way that had you almost feral –“so thank you, for speeding to work.”

Oh shit. Work. You had a brief moment of panic, realizing your cell phone was in your car, before telling yourself how you wouldn’t get fired. You were everyone’s favorite bartender. Besides, Shane soon distracted you by getting the door open and turning on the light, pushing you in front of him. Wrists still cuffed together, he pressed your front to the nearest wall, his body pressing into your back. Again, his tongue found the back of your neck before slowly working to that point right below your ear that sent shivers down your spine. He moaned and whispered, “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you, and Saturday night just made it so much worse.”

You could feel his erection pressed into your middle back and you moved to try to grind against it, eliciting what sounded like panting from you. God I’m pathetic. But you didn’t care. You kept moving until he grabbed your hips to still you, “Nah darlin’, tonight I call the shots, yeah?”

You simply nodded and Shane smiled, “Good girl.”

“First”- and that was when he ripped the shirt you were wearing, the sudden exposure causing your nipples to harden before he reached around to palm them, the fabric not torn all the way through so that the shirt stayed on –“let’s make it so I get a better look at you, yeah? Now, on your knees.”

You turned around and slowly got to your knees, hands still cuffed behind your back which caused your chest to be pushed out even more. Shane smiled and slowly slipped his belt free from his pants. He kept eye contact as he freed himself, thick cock hanging there, a smile playing on his lips as the lust took over your facial features. He slowly walked closer before finding his hand in your hair, “Open that pretty mouth for me darlin’ and show me how much you missed my cock, yeah?”

Your mouth opened, and almost to your surprise but not quite, Shane spit in your mouth before slipping his cock inside, letting out a possessive moan and holding the back of your neck so that you instantly took as much as you could until you were gagging and coughing. When he pulled back, your spit was running down your chin and still connecting his cock to your mouth. Shane gave praise, “You look beautiful with those smart lips of yours wrapped around me, darlin’.”

At that he pushed the head of his cock back into your mouth, and this time you were ready for the sheer size of it. As you let him guide you, your tongue licking along the underside as he pulled you back, you could taste the precum at the back of your throat at the same time that his head fell back. He was losing himself to the pleasure of you and that thought alone made you suck on his cock with even more hunger. The sounds it was making had your pussy growing wetter, gripping around nothing frantically. He kept fucking your mouth until your eye makeup was running and only then did he let up.

Shane had no trouble picking up and bringing you outside, turning the lights on so that he could see better. He brought you over to something you recognized. Your eyes grew large and pussy weeping as he undid the handcuffs just to pull your hands over a bar and handcuff them back in place. With a grin, he walked over to the tree the system was attached to and began lifting you so that your feet weren’t on the ground, toes barely brushing the leaves, and you were hanging there.

Shane walked back over to you and closed his mouth over one of your nipples and sucked, hard. You let out a cry at the contact as your head rolled back. He repeated it with the other nipple, pinching and pulling at the first one until your lower body was bucking up at the air. Then, he groaned, “Let’s get you a bit more comfortable, yeah?”

His fingers undid the buttons of your shorts before peeling them down, stopped to take off your combat boots before throwing the shorts off to the side. His hands ran up your legs along the fishnets until they paused at your underwear. They were laced boy shorts that were barely covered by your shorts. However, in the way were your fishnets. He smiled at you weakly before ripping your fishnets so he could get to your underwear. Eagerly he pushed them out of the way and off to the side, sinking his middle and ring finger deep inside of you, your pussy making the wettest and sloppiest noise. Shane gave a breathless laugh as you let out a moan before slowly beginning to move his fingers inside of you.

“This all for me darlin’? That pretty pussy still gets so wet just thinking about my cock, don’t it?” When you didn’t answer, too lost in the words he said and the way just his fingers felt, he slapped one of your exposed tits and you stuttered, “Y-yes…I missed the way you feel.”

Shane continued coaxing his fingers inside of you, hitting that g spot lazily. It was the biggest tease and you both knew that. It was enough stimulation to keep you aroused and wanting more, but not enough for you to actually get off. The way he had you left you unable to do much in retaliation. No, he wanted you to take it, and what’s more, you wanted to. All that could be heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of your pussy as he played with you. Then, suddenly, he picked up the pace and you cried out at the unexpected turn. You were so close. You could feel yourself about to let go, when suddenly he pulled out. That was when you realized and you simply spit out, “Bastard.”

He let out a laugh before kissing along the front of you neck, and when his tongue flicked at your nipple your next retort died in your mouth and he spoke freely, “Darlin’, you get what you give.”

At that, his mouth traveled lower until he knelt on the ground and pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. One of his hands held your panties to the side as his tongue slowly licked along your folds, the tip fluttering against your clit as he came to the top. Your body jerked in response, like a live wire. He spoke up, hot breath hitting your clit, “You do have the prettiest god damned pussy darlin’.”

Then Shane began to devour you, over and over, always pulling back right as you were about to go. Your legs were shaking, your knuckles white as you held on to the bar, chest slicked with your sweat. This felt akin to being tortured. You were becoming desperate to cum. Then, Shane’s next words struck you with a sense of dread as he stood up and looked at you, chin glinting in the soft light with your arousal, “I think we can both agree, you’ve been a bit of a bad, bad girl, darlin’.”

He wiped his chin with his thumb before licking that clean, the motion of his tongue causing you to squirm. With a laugh, he disappeared inside and came back out with rope. Confusion washed over your face as he tied a piece to each of your ankles, wondering where this was going. Then, Shane slowly tied the other end up around the bar that you were cuffed to and he slapped the ass cheek that was now exposed, “You always were so damn flexible darlin’.”

He tied the second ankle up more quickly and your hips were tilted from the way you were hanging. You could already tell just how good this would feel and Shane walked away to crank the lift a bit higher. It was higher than his hips and you felt confusion until his hands reappeared. He was careful with your underwear, pushing them to the side again, commenting, “Gonna need something to hold me to that pretty pussy later, aren’t you?”

With that, his fingers slipped right back inside of you. However, he now had much clearer access, and you could feel the difference. Not only that, but as he fingered you, his mouth fell on your clit, tongue lapping at you. This was too much for how sensitive you already were. Your moans picked up faster, your orgasm approaching even quicker, when he pulled back and you let out a cry in frustration. He slapped down on your clit and asked, “See, not very nice is it darlin’?”

“No!”

“So would you agree, you were a bad girl?”

“Yes!” It came out of you in another sob as he nearly growled, “Bad girls get punishments, don’t they?”

Tears were welling up at the frustration you felt as you broke down, “Yes.”

“Count ‘em out loud where I can hear you.”

He slapped again on your clit, and you began, “One!”

The second one stung, “Two!”

Shane huffed, sucking on his front teeth, slapping down again. You let out in a sob, “Th-three!”

He walked around so that he was looking down at your face. Grabbing a hand full of your hair he pulled so that your body followed, “Wanna tell me that you’re sorry for the other night?”

That was when you thought about him cheating and you asked, “Wanna tell me that first?”

He tsked you, “I already have, multiple times over. But you, you had your fun and didn’t tell me a damn thing after. So how about we go until you say your apologies, darlin’?”

With that, he let go of your hair and your body swung back to place. He gave zero warning as he slapped your clit again. And again. He cooed, “I hate punishing this pretty pussy of yours darlin’.” He spit on your pussy before bringing his hand down in three quick successions. The last one had you nearly cumming and he knew that, which is why he slowed down. You started crying freely and he called out, “Ready to apologize darlin’? Apologize and we both get what we want.”

You stayed quiet. And that was when he walked over and lowered you just a bit. Wondering what he had planned for you next, you soon realized as he walked over, that perfect fucking cock of his hanging face level with you. He spit in his hand, giving it a few pumps until precum seeped from the head, “If you don’t have anything to say, why don’t we use that mouth of yours? I’ll even play with that pussy of yours.”

You quickly opened your mouth, and Shane drove his cock home, hitting the back of your throat with ease. You were moaning around him. You couldn’t help it. Shane’s fingers found your pussy again and you eagerly sucked on his cock in response, “Mmm, my little darlin’ likes my fingers doesn’t she? Wants this”- he buried his cock in your mouth until you were gagging –“deep in this deprived pussy doesn’t she?”

Shane pulled his hips back and your mouth free, you cried out, “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry, darlin’, what was that?”

“I’m s-sorry. P-please. Please, Shane.”

��Please what, darlin’?”

“Please let me cum…please?”

That was when Shane walked over and his fingers plunged into you again and you were a sobbing, drooling mess so quickly. His fingers kept hitting your g spot and as his mouth joined you felt your orgasm crash through you. He kept pumping slowly as you came down and he pulled his fingers from you. They were covered in your cream. A chill ran through you as he slowly wrapped that hand around his cock and coated himself with you before lining himself up with you, hands wrapping around your thighs and firmly squeezing as he pushed into you slowly. He made a sound that was close to crying and when he was fully inside of you, he simply said in amazement, “I’ve missed you, darlin’.”

Then he began to move, and the fullness was delicious. He looked down at you in admiration before looking at where the two of you were joined. He flattened his hand against the bulge in your belly and pressed, eliciting the most guttural moan from you as he continued moving his hips. His other hand was still wrapped around your thigh, clutching at you, as he praised softly, “Forgot how deep I go inside of you, darlin’? Forgot about how big my cock is? How tight that pretty pussy of yours is? Feels like fucking heaven taking me.”

He kept thrusting into you and you were an incoherent, sobbing mess until suddenly he shifted his hips and the angle had him stealing another orgasm from you. This time he fucked you through it until you were a dripping mess and mind drunk on the feel of him. You couldn’t think of anything as he kept it up, “Always my little cock whore, aren’t you? No one feels as good as you. I’m a god damned fool to think that anyone could compare. Oh god, darlin’-“

Before he could pull out and go all over those pretty underwear, his cum shot deep inside of you. You didn’t mind, though. You loved it, milking it from him, pussy spasming around him.

Shane slowly pulled out and worked on catching his breath, before realizing just what happened.

He walked around and slowly helped you down, his mouth finding yours as soon as you were on your feet. You let him kiss you as you eagerly wrapped your legs around him. His thumbs wiped away the makeup from your tears as he walked you both back inside. There wasn’t much here, but there was a bathroom with a shower stall, and he was looking forward to helping you clean up. And you were looking forward to letting him. Especially since you could feel him getting excited for you all over again.

That was when you laughed.

He stopped and looked at you, “What’s that for?”

“You stayed in uniform that entire time, deputy Walsh.”

"Is that a complaint, darlin'?"

"Oh no, I love a man in uniform."

His lips were on yours again as you slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, fully intending for him to get in this shower with you.

#kinktober 2022 #shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut

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caesarhamato22 · 7 months

Text

Free

Rocketober: Day 2

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None today, sillies, you’re in the clear.

Summary: Nothing beats a fat nap after a tiring day of being Captain.

It wasn’t too dark, but fuck, was he tired.

His knees ached from the constant standing, walking and occasional sprinting throughout the never ending day. The pain hadn’t revealed itself until the moment the Bowie had landed on Knowhere. There was a tiny pull in side of his neck, to which he tried fixing by massaging it as best he could.

As claws brushed through his grime-fill fur, he scratched the spot between his ears that you always paid just enough attention to, but it was nowhere close to being the same.

Your scratches were always gentle, and your massages sent him straight to sleep, especially after a day like this.

Rocket fiddled tiredly through his keys, searching for the one you had given him a short while ago. Your spare key, a wordless offering for him to visit any time he needed you, or just wanted to see your gorgeous face.

It turned into a common occurrence, him warning you through message, telling you he needed a break and some time with you.

You two communicated, always finding the best time to meet up during your busy schedules. Outside of your work hours, and during a time where his duties as a guardian could be set to the side, he’d be with you.

Sometimes sitting in silence was all he truly wanted, but it was always a task for him to tell you that. His method changed over time as he became increasingly comfortable in the presence of the one he cared for most, in a different way than he did for everyone else.

It took him a long time to understand the way he loved you.

It’s started small and subtle. The tiniest of cues to tell you, he noticed what you noticed, that he cared for what you cared for.

So, so subtle. You didn’t come close to registering what he was doing when he first started looking out for the things you did.

Rocket seemed relieved by this at first. It was a sign that he wasn’t being too obvious. To you, at least. And you were all that mattered.

It was no different when the second he unlocked your apartment door, a gust of mixed relief and exhaustion radiated through him. His body, ready to be knocked the fuck out on your bed, right beside your perfect presence.

Hopefully including those head scratches he loves so much, and needed desperately. That he could admit.

Rocket’s feet were heavy, making his steps louder than usual. As loud as they could be for someone his size.

Passing through the hallway after closing and locking the door, his bag dropped to the ground with a clank and a thud. His fingers rushed lazily to untie his boots without a care. He kicked off his shoes and left them wherever they landed, separated into two different spots in the hall on their sides.

He beelined for the bedroom, the cozy space he shared with you, the place he knew you’d be on your day off from work.

With a sigh, he pulled off the blue and red uniform off his shoulders, choosing to leave only his trousers and belt on for the time being.

The bedroom door had been left ajar by you, allowing you to keep your attention captivated by the book in your hands, and a part of your focus vacant for the sounds of Rocket finally returning home.

He pushed the door open, letting it gently swing the rest of the way with a quiet creak. His eyes went to your side of the bed, finding you lying on your stomach, engrossed in the book that laid on your pillow looking right back up at you.

Your focus tore away from the pages of fiction when you heard him enter the room.

Peering over your shoulder and spotting his fatigue, you greeted him with a soft, “hey,” as he moved a step closer to the bed.

With a heavy sigh, “hey, baby,” he replied back.

His eyes were low and his body was aching to lie down. To rest and just be with you was all he wanted right now, holy shit, just let him hold you. He’d beg if it was required.

You studied him, every claw and movement. The lack of sleep in his eyes, and how gravity seemed to be stronger on him than you, told you he was drained, in need of care, even if he’d never admit it.

“You look tired.” Although you didn’t say it out loud.

Him, out of everyone, knew how tired he was. He didn’t need it pointed out and you knew him enough to not state the obvious.

His hands found his belt, unbuckling it with haste while his eyes focused on nothing but the air in front of him. With it loosened, off, and dropped to the ground, he looked back to you to find your eyes had never left him.

“Turn around,” he murmured. His voice was deeper and slurred with need of sleep while his eyes flickered around your body and the sheets it laid on.

You half-turned your body to face him better, now able to see more of him and the state he was in.

A shower wasn’t needed, but it would do him good. But he didn’t seem to be in the mood for critiques.

“On your back.” He was clearer this time, more gentle, like a request.

Granting it, you turned and shuffled into a comfortable position on your back while he waited patiently by the bed.

You settled and looked at him expectedly. He placed his hands on the side of the bed, pulling himself up with noticeable effort despite it being a second nature task, hopping on and off the bed every day. It was different when his energy was absent. Leaving the house at 4am and returning home just after 6pm, and running on two hours of sleep, had quite an impact on one’s battery level.

Your legs flattened against the bed to make room as he moved closer, bringing himself above you and lowering his body against yours, lying comfortably with his legs relaxed naturally, his arms resting on either side of you, and his head nuzzling against your chest.

It wasn’t a state you often found him in. Tired, yes, but that was a given considering his occupation.

Clingy, however, was normally when he was drunk and focused solely on his girl.

He’d been like this before, after a job or an exhausting day. You welcomed this side of him and honestly encouraged it when you sensed he needed some loving.

Rocket had never had this option before meeting you.

The closest he had was curling up in Groot’s lap when they were on the run. It would’ve had to have been a freezing night, or he must have been terribly injured to be found in such a vulnerable position; relaxed without a care in the world.

Yet, here he was, in your home, his home, in your perfect embrace, being loved more than he ever thought he could be.

Cared for, thought about, appreciated.

This was his. You were his.

He sinked further into your love, his arms tightening around you, his face and body wanting to be impossibly closer.

You fingers traced patterns through his fur before stopping in that sweet spot between his ears, scratching slowly, gently, perfectly. The instinctive motions were filled with natural attention to detail, eliciting a relaxed breath from him, finally able to give into the exhaustion that weighed him down since the moment he left you alone in the bed that morning.

Rocket loved you dearly. So deeply that it always surprised him, the lengths he would go for you without a mere second of hesitation.

You shared this love, and he knew that.

You made sure he did.

Every morning and night, through voice or message, you’d tell him he was loved.

It took him a while to believe it. To understand that you were telling the truth. After years and years of his past being filled with mental torment, physical strain and torture, he believed you.

He believed in whatever you told him; that he deserved to be loved.

That he was free to be loved.

Free.

Fuck, what a wonderful feeling.

I’m two days behind already :)

Rocketober list

#Rocketober #Rocketober 2023 #31 days of Rocket Raccoon #rocket raccoon #x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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lykaonimagines · 2 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere - Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x Hydra Experiment/Apprentice F!Reader

Word Count: 1,241

Description/Request: "Could I have one shot with Stephen Strange where he has a cold? Reader - his apprentice (the reader was hydra experiments with its powers) and she looks after Stephen. And at one point the coat has had enough of Strange's lame flirtations and it hugs the reader and Stephen (maybe even falling asleep in their arms).”

Requested by: Anon

Other Things: It’s just fluff and silliness. Pre-relationship.

Warnings: Some swearing. No spoilers.

Masterlist

Hooking her master by the arm, Y/N quickly pulls Strange away from the apprentices following Wong through the sanctum.

“Excuse you?” He asks, looking down at her with unsteady eyes. His brow furrowing as she places her hand on his forehead.

“I’m taking you to bed,” she states firmly as she leads him toward the stairs.

“At least buy me dinner first,” he mumbles as he leans heavily against the bannister.

“I- now isn’t the time,” she responds, obviously flustered. “You’re sick and need to get back in bed.”

“No can do,” he responds shaking his head, making his vision twist around him, the throbbing in his head growing. “Too much work to do.”

“Wong has the visiting apprentices handled. I checked and redid the seals, went through the mail, checked with the other masters, and started working on my book work. You need to rest.”

“When did you meet with the other masters?”

“One of the times you nearly passed out against a bookshelf. Thought you were looking for a book and came back to you staring into space, barely held up by the shelf.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, wobbling as he takes a step up the stairs.

“No you’re not, hold onto me,” she demands, slinging his arm across her shoulders. Grunting with each step she manages to get the sorcerer up the stairs and into his doorway.

“I really should be…” he begins before she cuts him off.

“Resting Stephen. You should be resting. Trust me, I’ll handle everything else,” she assures him as she pulls back the covers and pushes him into a sitting position on the bed.

Dropping down to her knees she quickly tugs his books off, standing back up to pull the Eye of Agamotto from his neck to place on the bedside table. Lastly she unties his intricate belt and slings it across the end of the bed.

As she works, his cloak flies off his shoulders and transforms into a scarf around her neck.

“He likes you,” Stephen says slowly while eying his cloak. “Only other person he ever touches on his own.”

“Well I like him too,” she says with a smile, laughing as it brushes against her cheek affectionately.

Standing back up she looks down at him with a frown.

“What have I done to earn such disapproval?” He jokes as he leans back on his hands on the mattress.

“I was just thinking your robes are probably really uncomfortable to sleep in,” she mutters. “You have something under them?”

“Taking me to bed, wanting to undress me, you’re rather forward aren’t you?” He teases, pulling at the many layers of fabric.

She watches him for a moment, mouth agape as he manages to get stuck in his own robes. Gripping the end of them she helps him out of the many layers to reveal a T-shirt underneath.

Reaching into her own pocket she pulls out a bottle of cold medicine, measuring it and handing him the cup as he looks on in disdain. “Drink it.”

“I’m alright.”

“Stephen drink it.”

“Who’s the master here?”

“You’re behaving like a toddler so clearly not you right now.”

“Well then who’s the doctor here?”

“Neither of us are practicing physicians at the moment actually.”

“I still have the title and the degree,” he huffs, crossing his arms.

“Medicine. Now.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“I… what do you want?”

“Stay here with me…?”

“If I agree to stay here with you until you fall asleep, you’ll take the medicine?”

“Yes.”

Sighing heavily, she nods and hands him the cup before reaching down to untie her own boots and discards them by the door. Going to the other side of the bed, she waits until she sees him down the medicine before crawling onto the covers on the other side of the bed. The cloak flying off to rest on a chair

Turning and slipping under the covers himself, he eyes her with a furrowed brow, “You’re going to lay on the covers?”

“I… figured this was more appropriate?”

“Get under the covers, I’m sick, I won’t bite,” he grumbles, attempting to yank them down.

Shifting on the bed she finally gets under the covers and lays stiffly still, staring up at the large canopy above her head.

“I wish I knew you back then,” Stephen mumbles as he also stares up, breaking the silence between them after a few minutes.

“Knew me when?”

“Before the Hydra crap.”

“I… yes. I know. They ruined me,” she admits trying to choke back the emotion in her voice.

“They didn’t ruin you,” he insists, glancing over at her. “I just meant… I wish I could have stopped it. That you could have just been a sorcerer, without having to go through all that first.”

“I don’t think anyone could have stopped it,” she says with a heavy sigh.

“Maybe, just don’t like that you have to hurt. I know daily pain, I hate that you deal with it too.”

“You’re being oddly sweet today,” she responds, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

“I could be sweet to you every day… if you wanted,” he responds, her eyes flickering to his.

“You’re also doing a lot of flirting.”

“Is it working?”

She laughs at the comment, shaking her head, “Not sure, you may just be delirious.”

“Delirious from your beauty maybe,” he grins as she directs a smile toward him.

Before she can respond, the cloak flies over the bed and spreads across the two, settling in silently for a moment before wrapping its edges around the two and forcefully pulling them together with a grunt from Y/N.

“What the hell are you doing?” Stephen asks, frowning as the collar of the fabric slaps his face toward Y/N, giving him a general idea.

“Why has your cloak mummified us together?” she asks with a raised brow.

“He wants this,” he says as he drapes an arm slowly across her.

“He wants us to cuddle?” she questions, slowly letting herself sink into his embrace.

“And he wants…” he pauses for a moment cursing the sentient fabric. “He wants me to admit that I have feelings for you.”

Her head turns up suddenly with a jerk, searching his eyes for signs of a joke, but finding nothing but embarrassment on his face.

“If you don’t feel the same, I’m sure he’ll let you go,” he adds softly, his arm lifting from her waist.

She quickly grabs his arm and puts it back, lifting a hand to pull his head to rest on her shoulder, “No one ever said I didn’t feel the same. Don’t jump to conclusions Strange.”

“Is that right?” he smiles over at her, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “In that case, I’ll have to take you out to dinner then.”

“Once you’re feeling better you mean,” she adds. “Meaning not tonight.”

“But you’ll stay with me tonight? Not just leave when I fall asleep.”

Twisting in his and the cloak’s grip, she slides up the bed slightly and slings a leg up over his hip to get comfortable. “I’m sure Wong can handle the rest. I’ll take care of you.”

Humming approvingly, he lays his head against her chest and moves his hand to run down her back as his eyes get droopy from the medication starting to kick in.

“Get some sleep,” she whispers as she kisses his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Stephen Tag List: @gaitwae @geeky-politics-46 @elicheel @frostandflamesfanfic @tokoyamisstuff @singhfae @jotaros-bara-tiddies

If you’d like to be tagged, please fill out this Google form. Makes sure I don’t miss your comment, and lets you opt out of certain things if you’d like 💙

If I’ve tagged you in something you didn’t want to be tagged in (certain variant, a warning you aren’t comfortable with, etc) just message me and I’ll make a note on my sheet to make sure you aren’t tagged in anything like that again.

#Stephen Strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange imagine #Doctor Stephen Strange #doctor strange #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #marvel #fanfiction

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pain-in-the-butler · 6 months

Text

Dadbastian Week Day 3: Trick or Treat

Happy day three of Dadbastian week — and happy Halloween! To fit this theme, I wrote a drabble that takes place immediately after Kuro's Halloween bonus chapter. I hope you enjoy this silly, sweet moment as you enjoy your silly sweet candy! 😊

The afterimage of the lanterns floating away into darkness was still dappled against his eyelids as Ciel finally turned back for the manor. All Hallow’s Eve was over. The villagers that had come to revel in the festivities were heading back for their homes with their laughter clouding the chilled air above their heads. Sebastian cut the sound off with the closing of the garden door, and the manor was drenched in silence once more. Lord and butler’s footfalls heading for the stairwell were the only sounds remaining, two sets of clacking heels that, for a step or two at a time, might fall into the same rhythm before separating again.

It was very late for a boy who most often found himself beginning to yawn at around half past nine and with his head on his desk if he wasn’t in bed before eleven. Ideally, the process of getting ready for sleep began before either of these events had come to pass. And now it was after midnight.

“I’m tiiired,” Ciel whined on the first step.

Sebastian’s response was mild. “I imagine so. It is very late for you.”

“My legs feel heavy,” was the fifth step’s gripe.

“We shall arrive at the bedroom before you know it,” was the reassurance.

“This is my first time wearing these shoes, they aren’t broken in,” at the tenth step.

“Then you are persevering very well,” from behind.

At the landing. “I don’t care about persevering! I said I’m bloody sick of walking around!!”

A light chuckle from behind. “Young master, do you mean for me to carry you the rest of the way?”

“...” If he had to ask, then never.

Even though it seemed to take far, far too long, they did at last arrive at the master bedroom. Ciel slumped onto the comforter at once, directly onto his face, crosswise over the mattress. He wished his pajamas could magically appear on his body without any more fuss. Why do Halloween celebrations always have to last until midnight just because it’s meant to be scary or something… I should have left it hours ago!

Sebastian chuckled again; Ciel could sense him standing overhead. “I see we aren’t feeling very cooperative right now. Isn’t that fitting.”

Ciel rolled just his chin to the side in order to speak unmuffled. “What do you mean ‘fitting’?”

“Considering how you’re dressed, of course.” From his periphery, Ciel saw Sebastian offering him a hand. “Up, young master, and let’s get you out of your costume before you fall asleep wearing it.”

There was no help for it… Ciel shrugged onto his hip and allowed Sebastian to tug him up into a sitting position. “I still don’t really understand Nina’s vision with this one,” Ciel grumbled, holding out his arms and looking down at his strange ensemble. “Some of the villagers asked me what I was meant to be dressed as, and I didn’t really have an answer. I just told them I was a monster.”

Smiling, Sebastian put a hand to his chin. “Hmm. Well, what if I told you Nina wasn’t the one to design your costume but rather myself?”

“... I would say that explains a lot,” Ciel huffed. With one hand, he hefted over his lap the black silk spade tail stuffed to fullness with sawdust. “This is certainly devil-like. Very funny. I don’t understand why you had to make it so long that it dragged on the ground, though. Or are you not so gifted with measurements after all?”

Sebastian chuckled to himself as he untied the sash at the boy’s hip that connected the false appendage to him. “Perhaps the trouble isn’t the length of the tail, but rather the fact that its owner hasn’t yet grown into it.”

“Just what is that supposed to mean? I never plan to wear this again.” Ciel was too weary to push it further, for now; he watched as Sebastian crouched at his feet. “These boots are a mystery for certain. There’s nothing scary about them at all, they’re just modeled after the kind worn by American cowboys. What was the inspiration here supposed to be?”

“More specifically, these are roper boots,” Sebastian said as he slipped them off one by one, “more comfortable and sturdy than a standard pair of cowboy boots. Wrangling cattle and wrangling souls aren’t so different as you might imagine.”

Ciel raised an eyebrow as he rolled his head to his shoulder. “Wrangling souls, huh. So are you saying you dressed me as a demon or what?”

Sebastian raised both eyebrows back. “Is that what I did?”

“... Ugh. Annoying bastard.” Ciel tugged on the bedraggled ends of his black tunic. “And what about this nonsense? Are all demons not fastidious like you about their appearances? Aren’t you just insulting your own species?”

“While other demons are, in fact, not typically so coiffed as myself,” Sebastian said with a note of disdain, “such ragged clothes should be taken more figuratively. It can be difficult for demons to hold a form at first, so their edges may have a bit of a wispy look when they struggle to stay corporeal.”

“At first…” A thought was growing. Ciel narrowed his eyes, then kicked out a foot. “And these stockings?”

“Bold stripes are quite youthful, don’t you think?”

“And these horns?”

“They’re very small, aren’t they?”

“And this bib collar…”

“Well, eating a soul can be an awfully messy process for a beginner—”

“You dressed me up as a demon baby!?” Ciel roared, leaping to his feet.

“Now, now, not necessarily a baby,” Sebastian held out his palms to settle things down. “Perhaps a young demon, making his first contract and just learning how to appear human…”

“Ugh!” Ciel folded his arms, wanting badly to be as angry as the situation deserved but… nn, so tired. He turned his drooping eyelids into a glare as he plopped back down on the bed. “Well your little joke is lost on us humans, so the only one to get any enjoyment out of it is you. But I bet you had fun privately making a fool of me.”

He glanced up and was surprised to see that Sebastian’s returning look was rather… soft. “I was not making a fool of you,” he said, reaching to Ciel’s throat to remove the ribbon he’d tied there four hours prior. “You humans often try your hand at representing devils in costume. I think it’s only fair that I should have my chance to show everyone what a real translation of the idea should look like, from the source.”

“So what, then, I’m meant to be a demon’s walking art exhibition?” Ciel tugged the stockings off his own legs, wanting more than ever to be rid of all this.

Sebastian removed the horns fastened in Ciel’s hair and the eye patch from around the back of his head. “That’s another way of looking at it,” he mused.

Ciel hesitated in peeling off the gloves that went nearly to his elbows. “... So then what way are you looking at it? Tell me already. I’m much too tired for guessing games.”

“... As a species, demons are quite different from humans,” Sebastian began as he helped Ciel back to his feet and continued readying him for his pajamas. “We are ‘born’ self-sufficient, though how we come into existence also varies greatly — most demons do not have parents. Nor do we share a consistent experience with youth; each of us is individual in how and when we grow. But perhaps… if ‘parenthood’ and ‘childhood’ were such common experiences amongst my kind… perhaps there would be those who would be excited to see their children experiencing their first contracts… trying to assimilate with humans and maybe doing a poor job of looking the part—”

“Enough. Your fantasy is getting completely ridiculous.” Ciel tugged his head through the opening of his nightshirt. “From the sound of things, I wasn’t even dressed as a demon child, I was dressed as a demon child who was badly dressed as a human child.”

“You don’t think that sounds cute?” Sebastian looked almost sorrowful about it.

“Why would I ever think something like that?” Ciel clambered into bed, exasperated. Then once again, the thought had to dawn. “... You think that’s cute?”

“I think it’s charming, like one of your kind’s fairy tales.” Sebastian looked completely idiotic now, holding out the stupid black tunic at arms’ length and admiring his own work with a half-smile.

“... Ugh.” Ciel had no idea how to respond, but he knew he’d had enough of staying awake. He nestled himself on the pillow. “From now on, I’m choosing my own Halloween attire. However many more opportunities I get to do so, anyway.”

“However many more,” Sebastian repeated softly. “And… young master?”

“What?” Ciel lay there, waiting for the blankets to be tucked over him so he could fall right into the warmth of slumber. What inane thing was coming next…?

Sebastian’s smile down at him was pointed — literally. His eyeteeth sparkled in the candlelight. “I so kindly allowed you to indulge in a fair bit of chocolate tonight, so please don’t think for an instant that I shall let you drift off before you brush your fangs. Up, up you get.”

“Before I brush my what? I don’t have anything like fangs, damn demon!”

“Hmm, don’t you? I could have sworn you did, just for this evening… I suppose it must have been a trick of the light.”

“Some trick! More like you got caught up in a stupid story of your own design!”

“My words seem to have given the young master a boost in energy. That shall aid you marvelously in getting to the sink.”

“... Hmph… Damn demon…”

#happy dadbastian week!

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kisskissbanggang · 1 year

Text

Jumpspace Renegade - ep. 2 ✨🚀

[2.2k words, 10 min. read - Stray Kids Multi Fic, Scifi!au, Choose Your Own Adventure - SFW/Smut in Later Chapters - Meeting the Gang, Shady Characters, Hiding from the Cops, Different Levels of Asshole, Always Check the Tags]

[Episodes on Fridays 7pm pst, Polling closes Saturdays 7pm pst]

[Series Masterlist | Come Say Hi!]

“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath in the cargo hold. Your boots were clunking on the iron floor of the haggard frigate just a bit too loudly for your liking. There were plenty of reasons you should've gone with different shoes, in hindsight.

As an experimental manufactured planet, T’kaarm ran on a scaled up version of electromagnetic gravity commonly used on government and military crafts. In fact, if a tourist were to take one of those overpriced tours under the planet’s crust, where the electromagnetic plates rested, they’d get a taste of the peculiar sensation of suddenly being pulled in the opposite direction that they’d just been standing. All your clothes were lined with dainty metallic fibers. Every piece of jewelry you owned was Core-Safe, which was hilarious on T’kaarm as, again, the plates weren’t even in the planet’s core. Everything was made to pull you down to the surface, just enough.

The steel plates were the current reason for your regret regarding the dumb boots. You should've thrown them out weeks before, when the plate on your right sole finally got exposed through the wearing rubber. A nasty zap from a faulty threshold on a commuter rail finally knocked some sense into you, and they’d been laying abandoned by your front door for weeks.

Until today, when Klave had notified you it was time for your biweekly check-in. Except you knew it was a week early. And you knew that your employer for your last gig sold you out.

You untied the stupid boots and tiptoed out of them – or as much as you could, now that you were bouncing a bit. There was just enough metal in your clothes, your bag, your jewelry, the fillings in your teeth to confidently hold you an inch above the floor.

It was hard to see in the dark cargo hold, but this was fine. This was great cover, all things considered. You carefully shuffled around a maze of boxes, crates, and trunks, hoping to find enough of an opening to duck down into.

“Looking for anything in particular?” came a sudden voice cutting through the dark.

You damn near jumped out of your skin, whirling around to face the intruding sound. No apparent luck, but you did finally get a somewhat better idea of your bearings. Your fingers were curled around the spaced apart bars of a cargo cage to stop your momentum, likely against the starboard side of the hull since you entered the rear of the craft and veered right. But were you inside the cage, or out?

A single, red light illuminated an alarm button on the short ceiling. It dimly silhouetted the speaker in the dark.

“Well?” the stranger continued. You could see his head cock curiously to one side, looking almost sarcastic given his bored tone.

You let up a reluctant sigh. “Okay. I'm sorry for crashing, but I just need to lay low–”

“Why?” the man interrupted. “Are you wanted?”

“You could say that,” you impatiently answered. Your fingertips nervously fiddled with the raised lettering on your bag, slung down off your shoulder and resting in the crook of your arm. Supernova Hospitality. Once upon a time, you'd worked for one of those silly hotels that offered those silly tours under the planet’s surface, long before you learned how to make better money. Long before you went to jail. Long before you were saddled with Klave.

Piping lined the low ceiling, and the man grabbed on to lean forward attentively. It was still your turn to talk, apparently.

“Look, I can just leave,” you offered, “but if you let me stay, I’ll pay you–”

You were interrupted again, this time with an incredulous laugh. “Pay? With what money? You can’t even afford shoes, hun.”

First you wondered how he could tell with how dark it was in here. Then you were wondering where he got off calling you ‘hun.’

But you didn't get a chance to pursue either of these things, because the asshole nonchalantly reached over and pushed the alarm button.

The lights flashed on at the same time a serious buzzer echoed through the spacecraft.

Your ass hit the floor and bounced before you even knew you fell.

“What the fuck, dude–?!” you sputtered. You spied a trunk stacked on top of a couple crates, leaving just enough room for you to crawl under when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the main floor.

“Just seeing how good you are at hiding with the lights on, little stowaway,” the guy snickered. Now that you got a better look at him, you were surprised to find he wasn't more intimidating in terms of looks. Cropped, dark brown hair hung down in a shaggy fringe in front of his almond shaped eyes. Perfect nose, cute, thin lips curled into a shit-eating smirk – he was actually handsome, an unexpected feat for a dick like this. And he wasn't just resting both arms at the same time by leaning on the overhead pipe; he was handcuffed.

Mercenaries with a cuffed guy in the cargo hold?

Oh, fuck.

That meant–

The commotion in the stairwell spilled into the room. A few pairs of boots and sneakers stepped in front of your vision, and you strained to see past them.

“I warned you about touching that fucking button, Lee,” a new disembodied voice threatened from somewhere behind you.

Cuffs dismissively shrugged and gestured both his hands in your direction, all silent.

One pair of legs spun to look towards wherever he’d pointed, and suddenly one guy ducked down to see you under the trunk. Cute round doe eyes blinked at you, or at least the one that wasn't obscured by an eyepatch. You and Eyepatch wordlessly stared each other down. There was a pathetic, silent plea in your expression, you could just tell.

And he held your gaze while he waved everyone over. “Hey, guys– OW!”

You kicked Eyepatch right in the shin and tried to wriggle out from under the trunk, but another body blocked you. A shock of red and black hair entered your vision first. He didn’t say anything, to you or his cohorts. He only curiously arched an eyebrow at you. You were ready to punch him right in his pierced nose when there was a banging knock on the sub-hatch door.

Humorously, you weren’t the only one who filled with dread, by the looks of it. All the men stood, warily regarding the door and hesitating until there was another knock, this time with a yell accompanying. Nose Ring’s hand hovered over the hilt of a knife clipped into his trouser pocket.

“Open up! T’kaarm Port Authority!”

Klave, obviously.

Nose Ring glanced down at you and back at the door, his jaw firm like he was grinding his teeth in thought. He glanced at you again.

“Jeongin, open the door.”

So he was the voice barking at Cuffs when the crew came crashing in.

More light spilled into the cargo hold, causing the men to squint for a second. From your vantage point, you could only see Eyepatch, Cuffs, and Nose Ring. Cuffs had boredly moved to sit on a bench in the back of the makeshift brig.

“Greetings, gentlemen, I’ll make this quick.” God you hated Klave. “This is your Slipdock?”

You knew he was referencing the giant freighter parked on top of them.

“Funniest thing,” Eyepatch nervously chuckled. “We were here first and the big bastard dropped down on top of us. You can check the quartermaster–”

“No, that's fine. And your Captain…?”

Nose gave a curt raise of his hand, really only gesturing with a couple fingers. “Bang,” he cautiously supplied. “First name Chan.” You could hear Klave or the cops behind him messing with a scanner. A blue scan grid flashed onto the Captain’s face for a second.

“Good, good. And your first mate?”

Eyepatch looked at Captain Bang first before raising his hand as well. “Han? Jisung– ah fuck!” The first mate cursed when the flash of the scan grid left him blinking.

Without asking or warning, the scan grid hit Cuff’s face as well, getting an annoyed grimace out of him.

“Lee? Minho Lee?”

Cuffs reluctantly nodded.

“Captain, you’re authorized to deliver outlaws?”

“Yeah,” Chan impatiently answered while he felt his pockets, “of course we are. Ji, do you have–”

“What? No, hold on–” Jisung quietly stalled, somewhat panicked. “That shit’s back on the bridge, I–”

Another pair of boots suddenly entered, stopping right beside Chan.

“Thank you, Seungmin,” Jisung hurriedly whispered before piling everything that was in his hands into Chan’s hands. Chan quickly reviewed everything before handing them back to Jisung to pass to Klave.

“Clearances, authorizations, and passes, officers,” he plainly explained.

“Thank you, Captain. And your final port?”

“Victory Meridian in Daedalus,” Chan answered with a nod towards Minho. “To drop off the cargo.”

“Perfect, Captain,” Klave praised. What a kiss-ass. “One last thing… Have you happened to have taken care of any attempted stowaways, maybe an outlaw trying to seek refuge?”

All three men in your sight line glanced at you and you vehemently shook your head from where you were hidden under the trunk. Minho and Jisung both looked at Chan next, but Chan was still looking at you.

And you realized what it was. On your wrist closest to him, you knew the scar from your implanted inmate chip was visible. They injected ink into the cauterizer so it'd leave a tattoo, a little metallic logo for the port authority.

Chan had a similar mark on his wrist. So did Jisung.

The glare you shared with Chan felt like hours instead of seconds before he finally looked up, pretending to have just been looking at his watch instead.

“No, officer,” he shook his head, “now, I'm sorry to be rude but do you mind? We have to make our boost time.”

“Captain, are you sure? There were reported sightings–”

“Officer,” Chan calmly interrupted. He pulled out a wad of folded paper credits. “I actually don't remember if we paid our gate fee already. Would you be so gracious as to check with the quartermaster for me?”

The Captain handed the credits to Jisung to pass along.

“My pleasure, Captain,” Klave gushed. “I’ll report back shortly–”

You were stunned that it’d been so easy. This was the last you’d ever hear of Klave, thankfully, as the door was shut in his face. You finally shambled out from under the trunk in the cargo hold, still bouncing on your tiptoes. There were a few new faces now. A couple of the men sat on crates near the stairwell, inspecting your boots.

Jisung amusedly pushed your shoulder down, watching you bounce right back up.

“Hey, thank you guys,” you offered sincerely.

“Cute,” Jisung smirked, still distracted by your bobbing, “like a little ghost. She coming up with us?”

Chan also bopped you down a couple times before grabbing your shoulder. He beeped open the cargo cage and shoved you inside before you even had a chance to protest. “Nah,” he casually decided.

“What?!” you protested, grabbing the bars. “You’re leaving me here?!”

“We gotta see if there’s a pretty price on your head,” Chan explained. “No hard feelings, I hope. Now what's your name?”

One of your hands relinquished the bars to reshoulder your bag. You nervously fiddled with the raised letters again.

“... Nova,” you answered.

“Hyunjin?” Chan called over his shoulder. One of the men, a tall, slender blonde, stepped forward. He drew out a small pocket scanner and focused the beam on your face before he also noticed your inmate mark and got that, too. Hyunjin looked at the scanner data.

“Yeah, that's not your name,” he boredly shook his head while he read. “But I like it. You've got a lot of pages in here…”

“Jisung,” nagged a voice at the stairs. A bespectacled man was poking his head in the doorway. “The gate agent is on my ass–”

“In a minute, Seungmin, god!” Jisung rolled his eyes, dragging his feet on his way to the stairs.

“You’re keeping me in here until Victory Meridian?” you frantically asked the captain. He was reading over Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Just until we make sure you're not worth anything,” Hyunjin answered, still reading his scanner as well. “You’ll probably be out before the end of the day cycle.”

“Sounds about right,” Chan ruled. He looked between you and Minho. “Play nice. Don’t touch that fucking button again.”

And just like that, Chan, Hyunjin, and the rest of the men cleared out.

You were alone with Minho, a bounty you knew nothing about, and nothing to firmly anchor you to the ground. Your boots were still out in the cargo hold proper.

And the lights went back out.

The ship rumbled to life around you.

A couple strips of work lights blinked on, but that was it.

“The pilot called you a little ghost but you remind me more of a little bird,” Minho chuckled to himself.

You considered your response.

There was always the silent route, maybe bore him into leaving you alone or divulging something valuable.

Or there was always the option of trying to be friendly, maybe make one alliance since it was available.

There was, however, the risk that silence could come across as taunting or antagonistic. But, then again, talking could appear disingenuous, maybe even cloying.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz scenarios #SPOILERS #ALWAYS CHECK THE TAGS #one path takes you to an awkward shutdown #the other takes you to an excitingly stressful game of chicken

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fanficshiddles · 2 years

Text

Little Slut, One Shot

Thank you for the prompt, hope you like it! guilty-pleasures-unfiltered submitted: I would love a one shot of a kidnapped fantasy between Tom and his submissive nothing specific but tons of smut and bondage!

WARNING: CONSENSUAL NON CON.

It happened so fast. One minute she was out jogging through the nearby park, the next strong arms had grabbed hold of her and a firm hand clamped over her mouth.

She tried to fight her way out, but the man was too strong. He easily lifted her and was able to carry her to his car.

‘No point squirming or fighting. You’re mine now, kitten. I’ve been watching you for a long time.’ He growled into her ear before bundling her into the boot of his car.

He put a gag over her mouth and tied her hands together at her back, so she couldn’t try anything silly in the car. Then she was plunged into darkness as he shut the boot and then drove her to god knows where.

She was trembling like mad when they arrived at their destination. It sounded like a dirt road they’d gone up, a little bumpy too but he had slowed down a lot.

When the boot was opened, she squinted in the light, even though it was starting to get darker now it was evening.

Tom grinned down at his captive and reached in to scoop her out. He was so strong it was easy for him to carry her over towards a log cabin. She had never seen the place before and had no idea where she was, which didn’t help her nerves.

After she was taken inside, she was placed down on her feet and tried to make a run for it. Hoping there was maybe another door, but there wasn’t. She tried running into another room but that was the bedroom.

‘If you wanted to hurry to the good part you only needed to ask.’ Tom teased her as he stalked after her into the bedroom.

She backed away from him and tried to keep at the opposite side of the bed, but soon he was round and on her. He began tearing at her clothes like a wild beast, not caring about ripping her t shirt right off. She squealed and cried through the gag, but he had her naked within seconds.

There was an obvious bulge in his trousers, that made her eyes widen.

Tom reached down and squeezed himself. ‘Are you going to be a good girl and do as you’re told? Or are you going to make it difficult for yourself?’

She didn’t know how to respond, so when Tom reached out to grab her again she tried to make another run for it. She managed to jump onto the bed and over, out of the room and towards the front door.

When she got there though, even though it was unlocked she couldn’t open the handle because her hands were stuck behind her.

Tom was quickly on her and grabbed her, he pulled her round and folded her over the arm of the sofa. She whined and pleaded through the gag, but that just aroused Tom even more.

‘Ohh do keep trying to fight, it will give me so much pleasure to put you in your place. To take you whether you want it or not.’ He growled in her ear and licked her neck, making her shiver.

He put a firm hand at the back of her neck, holding her down over the sofa arm while his other hand smoothed down her spine and over the swell of her ass. He squeezed at her luscious cheeks and dipped his hand between her thighs, chuckling menacingly at what he found.

‘Well well well, look what we have here.’ He said in a condescending tone as he dipped his fingers through her folds, making her whine. ‘You are soaking wet, why I’d say you’re enjoying this far too much for being kidnapped, little slut.’

He scooped her arousal onto his fingers and untied her gag, then shoved his fingers into her mouth. She whined around his fingers.

‘Taste yourself, all your slut juices just dripping out of you. Desperate for a big fat cock to fill you.’

She tried to ignore the feeling as Tom grinded his bulge against her soft core, wetting the front of his jeans from how aroused she was. She bit his fingers, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him growl and pull them out of her mouth quickly.

‘You fucking slut, how dare you.’ He hissed and smacked her ass hard, making her scream out as his large hand continued to smack her.

He was a strong man with a mean swing, it hurt like hell and soon her ass was bright red with his hand prints all over. She was a sobbing mess, but still soaking, even more so in fact after the assault.

Tom slapped her sensitive cunt, making her yelp one last time. He chuckled and then undid his jeans, his cock sprang free and he stroked himself a few times before lining up against her.

‘You will enjoy this. Because you belong to me now, my little slut.’

He folded himself over her, trapping her down with his body as he thrust into her smoothly, filling her to the hilt in an instant, he wrapped an arm around her middle and his other hand went around her throat, squeezing.

He felt her clenching around him as little whimpers and moans fell from her lips. She wanted to plead with him to stop, but she had never been so aroused before, her body was on fire with pleasure.

‘It’s like you’re made for me. Your pussy fits me like a glove... Ohhh fuck yes.’ Tom moaned as he picked up the rhythm, fucking into her balls deep. ‘You’re my slut now, I’m never letting you go.’

Tom was calculating with the way he squeezed her throat in time with his thrusting, taking her breath away each time, rubbing against her g spot as he angled himself perfectly within her.

‘I’m so close. I need you to cum with me, to pull my sperm deep into you, so you know you belong to me.’ He nipped her earlobe.

‘Pl… please… no… pull out.’ She whimpered pathetically.

Tom just laughed. ‘You will cum, and you will be mine.’

He slid his hand underneath her to her clit, as soon as he began rolling his fingers over the incredibly sensitive nub, she was gone.

She clenched so hard around his cock, he growled as he thrust sharply into her and came at the same time, throbbing hotly as he spilled deep inside.

‘Mine.’ Tom growled possessively.

He didn’t pull out, but as he stood up straight he pulled her up with him and kept her lodged on his cock as he lifted her and headed to the bedroom. She squeaked with every step as the movement made his cock move within her.

Tom manoeuvred them carefully so they were lying down on the bed on their sides, his cock still keeping her stuffed as he softly played with her breasts and kissed her shoulder.

‘I love you, Tom… this was… wow.’ She whispered.

Tom chuckled and squeezed her tightly, kissing the top of her head.

‘I love you too, darling. I’m surprised how wet you were, and you didn’t safe word.’

‘It was everything and more I could’ve imagined.’ She said dreamily.

She’d had no idea when Tom was going to carry out their fantasy. It had been weeks ago they’d discussed it, so it was a total surprise. They had agreed that Tom would speak before bundling her into a rented car so that she knew it was him and she wasn’t actually being kidnapped for real.

‘How long have you got this place rented for?’ She asked, squirming a bit and squeezing her muscles around his cock.

Tom groaned and buried his face into her hair as he began to grow hard again inside her soft wet walls.

‘Till Tuesday… so plenty of time to remind you over and over of who you belong to and who’s in charge.’ He growled and nipped her neck.

She whimpered and trembled. ‘I’m your little slut, sir.’

‘That you are.’ Tom agreed as he suddenly moved his hips, thrusting into her again.

#Tom Hiddleston #one shot #prompt #tom hiddleston x ofc

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 7 months

Text

"Footsteps"

Image by Pixiv Id 1480815 #1528511

A/N = I've never written anything quite like this before. So drop me a line and let me know what you think, yeah? Thanks!

C/W = Jesus. Um, degradation (consensual deg?), smacking face and ass, P👉V, Oral (again, it may not read as consensual, but it is) F👉M, little bit of a faux job. I think that about covers it. If I missed anything or spelled/grammatically fucked anything, lemme know.

ONE MORE TIME FOR THE BRATS OUT THERE ...

You lay there in a puddle of your own making. Pussy throbbing, little electrical currents still shooting through your core.

The tip of your nose itches. But there's nothing sexy about asking to be untied to scratch it. You just crinkle it and hope he walks by soon so you can rub it against him for some relief.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You look like an idiot right now, y/n. Stop it." His voice weighed down on you like the thickest fog you've ever been in. Eyes hazy from having who knows how many orgasms. You lost track after 7.

He knows.

He always keeps track.

Always keeps track to beat his last record.

"I do hope you're ready to begin, again?" He chuckled, "I mean, that's really just a courtesy warning. You will be ready. Very soon."

You nod your head, wondering, again, how the fuck you ended up here.

He knows.

He knows exactly why you keep coming back here.

He cut the rope that held you in place and you landed hard on your knees and hands.

"Spread your legs for me."

You comply, despite not having fully recovered from minutes ago.

Why ... why do you keep coming back here.

"I said open your legs like the whore you are. Now do it, or I'll do it for you. Hm?"

Ok, so wider then? You think you're so funny when you're on the floor for him.

You spread your legs until all you felt was pain.

Resounding pain deep within the unstretched and overworked muscles.

"Don't worry, pretty. The pain will subside once I start in on your filthy cunt."

You moaned.

"Ohhh, I almost forgot how you like to be told how fucking dirty you are. How silly of me."

He took your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks until your lips puckered.

"Open. Your. Fucking. Whore. Mouth."

Sticking your tongue out between your lips, you knew that would get you in trouble with him.

"Now, just what am I supposed to do with that? Huh? You think I can just rub my cock all over your tongue until I cum?" He hung his head and laughed sardonically. "'Cause that's how it works. Now I gotta spank you. Now I gotta spank you."

He sighed like it was actually a real task for him to beat your ass.

"Open." *whack* "Your." *whack* "Mouth." *whack* "Jeeesus. Look how wet you are." He slid his curled up hand into your pulsing cunt and he pulled it out, sticking the pads of his middle finger against his thumb. "So fucking wet and needy, fucking pathetic little slut."

He put his booted foot out for you.

You knew what he meant by that gesture. But you liked it when he told you.

"Well, come on then, rub your pussy on my boot. I want to watch you cum all over it."

Wrapping your legs around his ankle, you struggled to get yourself close enough that you could do what he told you to.

"What's the problem here. Are you not able to cum anymore? Are you just completely broken now?"

You whimpered and tried pulling him down to the floor with you.

"Careful, that's awfully close to talking, what you just did there. Keep your dimwitted thoughts to yourself. No one cares what whores think about."

He began to pace around the small room.

"Well, if you can't fuck yourself against my leather boot, what the hell good are you. Jesus."

He grabbed you by the hair and pulled you up to your feet.

Your hands instinctively grabbed his wrists as he dragged you to an upright position.

Getting in your face, he squeezed your mouth together again.

This time you did as you were told.

Opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out, he spit on it.

"Now put that foul thing away and swallow the gift I just gave you."

You swallowed as you were told and waited. On pins and needles, you waited for his next instruction.

"Go stand at the window. Actually, get on your knees with your back to the window. Yeah, back to the window. And crawl there."

Dragging your hands and knees across the floor, you made your way slowly to the window.

Pretty sure you got a splinter from this fucking 100+ year old flooring. No matter.

What he did was far better worse anyway.

"Good. Good girl. You managed to follow the simple direction I gave to you." He clapped sarcastically. If that's even a thing. You pondered that for a second as he mustered up your next indiscretion.

"Pull my pants down, one hand, stick the other one in your mouth and suck."

Reaching up, you began to undo the straps around his thighs.

His legs were so sexy it made you moan and gag over/under/around your fingers. Your cunt clenching at nothing. You really were feeling like a desperate whore, so needy to be filled tonight.

Those fucking straps. If he'd let you, you'd take them off with your teeth. But then he'd run the risk of marking up his uniform. It's not as though that shit didn't happen already when he was out there flying around from tree to tree. From titan to titan.

You had to remember that this was his show.

And you were only watching.

But fuck, did you love to watch from outside of your own body while he bore down on you all of his frustrations of day-to-day shit.

"Hurry up, for fuck's sake. Take your fingers out of your mouth if that'll speed this up."

You pulled your soaked fingers from their place nestled on your tongue and tried to find something to wipe the saliva off.

You looked at his pant leg.

"Don't even fucking think about it, I swear to God."

Instead of his pants, you used your hair.

"You're fucking disgusting. You know that? You're absolutely ... fucking disgusting."

Flustered, he pushed your hands away from his pants and took the task upon himself.

"As usual, I'm the one who has to come in and take over. Goddamn ... it."

You wanted to touch yourself so badly. But that would only earn you a slap across the face.

It would make him feel better though, so you did.

Sneaking your fingers up over your reddened thighs you slid them between your legs. Between your soaked folds and found your clit. Aching. Hard. So fucking hard.

You began rubbing yourself before he noticed what you were doing.

But he heard. He heard the change in your breathing. It's gotten calmer. Softer. How you sound when you're starting to hit the right pace and pressure.

He turned around and watched you for a second. His steel-blue eyes softened for half a second before he remember what this rendezvous was all about.

"Fucking ... " he kicked your hands away from between your legs. " ... dirty. Good girls don't touch their filthy cunts. And we ALL know you're a whore. You just showed me, just there. Just now."

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest you could see your tits bouncing ever so slightly in response to the rapid pulse.

He walked to his desk and pulled the key from the secret box underneath. Unlocking the bottom drawer he pulled out an antique looking dildo. It was made of rose quartz. Perfectly smooth, no signs of mistreatment.

Holding it in his hand, he ran his eyes over the pink rock.

"You know what's coming, yes?" His steps to you were precise. Direct. Imposing.

Your big eyes told him all he needed to know.

He pressed the cold, hard tip into your face and rubbed it roughly across your lips, tracing the outline of your jaw.

"Show me what you'd do to my cock if I shoved it in your filthy mouth."

You took the piece from his hands and slowly worked your tongue around the tip of it.

Enveloping the entirety of it into your mouth, you pushed ... pushed ... pushed until it hit the back of your throat.

"Through your nose ..." he reminded you. It was too gentle how he told you that. Was he slipping?

The breaths through your nose were slow and deep. You did as he said. You always did as he said.

He hasn't lead you astray yet.

His eyes looked over your body as you sat on your knees, back to the window. Light pink plug being worked through your lips.

You were surprised when he started fucking into his hand.

You were surprised it's only taken this much for him to start that.

"Fuck, put that on my desk. Now." He barked at you.

There he is, you thought.

Finally.

Pulling it from your mouth you stood and walked across the room.

Tears ran down your face. Your nose was runny. What the fuck was up with your nose right now.

You wanted to sniff but that would disgust him even more.

Human behavior disgusted him.

"Bend over." He hurriedly waved his hands in the air. "The desk, fucking bend over it."

You could feel your pulse in your eyes it was hitting so hard.

At. Long. Last.

He came up behind you and leaned in close to your ear.

"Did you bathe before you came over here? You reek of desperation. You smell wet. Goddamn slut. Such a goddamn slut for me."

As he kicked your legs farther apart, he slipped his hand between your legs and just grazed the hair on your cunt.

It sent sparks through your blood. You fought the urge to lower yourself onto his fingers.

But it was no use. It felt too good. You'd been in this state for too long.

The waiting. The denial.

Bending your knees just enough to feel his fingers press further into your wetness, your breathing got heavier.

God, you wanted to touch him.

"What ... what the hell is this? Mm? I don't think I told you to fuck yourself on my hand."

He brought his hand down so hard on your ass even you shot him a warning look.

There was no remorse in his eyes. It just fueled the fire he had burning deep within him.

He smacked your still red, but other, more pale ass cheek.

"I like things that match. And that, just then, it didn't match." Tilting his head and cocking an eyebrow as a carefree admission. It was true. He does like things that go well together.

"Turn around. Face me."

You moved gingerly. Your ass was on fire.

He got down on his knees in front of you, examining your pussy like he's never seen one up close before.

"Fffuckk. How do you live with yourself when you're like this? Needy, needy, needy little cunt."

His words were making you writhe around against the cold, hard wood of the desk. Your thighs rubbing together at a fervent pace brought you no relief whatsoever.

"You're going to start a fucking fire if you keep that up. And didn't I tell you to open your legs? Didn't I already kick them apart?"

He started jerking himself off, standing just in front of your body.

"Oh, ohhh fuck. Feels s'good."

You just watched him as he pumped his hips to fuck his hand. Swallowing hard to rid your mouth of the saliva that pooled so shamelessly on the sides of your tongue. Your eyes not-so-silently begging him to let you touch him. Anywhere.

"You think you can do it better?" He chided. "Then fuckin' do it. Don't just stand there and wait for me to do all the work."

He slapped your face. Again, a little too hard. But you didn't miss the way his cock jumped when his hand landed on your already red cheek.

You stuck your tongue out again.

"Suck your fingers clean. Make sure they're fucking clean. Then we'll talk about you touching me with your filthy whore hands."

You sucked your fingers clean, making a show of it for him.

"I can't hear you." A gentle reminder.

Hm, curious.

The moaning was all it took for him to nearly come undone.

"Fuck! Get your fucking whore mouth on my dick. Right now. Right fucking now."

He pushed your head down towards his cock, but you weren't ready. Your gag reflex was too sensitive. You coughed and sputtered on the tip of his throbbing cock.

"Ohhh fuck, Goddamn, y/n. Have to fuck your throat. I don't have time to deal with this bullshit. You have one job while you're here and I can't even get you to do that right. What the fuck is wrong with you? Just open your mouth. Just fucking open your mouth."

He pushed your head down on his cock and thrust his hips into your face.

"Just ... just like that. Jesus. Goddamn, y/n. You're so fucking filthy. Fucking filthy bitch."

You felt your throat tighten around his cock and it made him twitch.

Him twitching make you clench.

He held your head down, fucking up into your mouth.

"Fffffuck."

You pulled away, choking on your own spit.

He wiped your face with his hand.

"Open your fucking mouth, y/n. I told you I'm going to fuck your throat. Open your mouth."

You did as you were told.

His hips were jerking at a desperate pace.

"God, fuck. Fuck, y/n. Your mouth feels so fucking tight and wet. I'm gonna cum in your mouth. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.Ohh,fuck."

You swallowed his load, gagging slightly on the thick, warm liquid that shot from his cock.

"Jesus. I don't ... what is ... what's there to say."

He wiped his thumb across your chin and pressed it into your tongue.

"Just ... just a second. Just ... a second."

You sat there, waiting.

"Ok. Ok, come here."

He led you to the couch in the corner and sat down, pulling you onto his lap.

"I had a really shit day. And you just made it less shit."

You leaned into his chest.

You knew it was coming.

But for that second of hearing his heart rattle in his chest, it was heaven.

"Don't get too comfortable down there. You know I'm not done."

He pushed you off of him and onto the floor.

"On your feet, Cadet. Come on, hurry up."

You got onto the couch and he pressed your head down into the cushion.

"Much better."

He rubbed his cock against your ass until he was hard again.

"You ready to take me into your whore cunt?"

You nodded, mouth still pressed into the cushion.

He pressed his tip into your pussy and started fucking into you.

"Fffffuck, y/n. God. You're so fucking wet." He got more and more quiet the longer he went on. "So wet. Fuck. You're so wet."

You moaned into the cushion.

"Turn your head. I want to see your eyes when you cum for me. Fuck. Turn your head."

You did as you were told.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna cum in you. I'm gonna fill you up and watch it drip out of you. Fuck,fuck,fuck."

He pushed his cock all the way inside of you and you felt him twitch.

"Fuck, y/n. Fuck."

"This is the only chance I'm giving you to cum one last time. So get on the boat or swim to shore. Your call."

He pulled his cock out and sat back on the couch.

Pulling you into his lap, he lined himself up with your dripping hole and sunk you down onto him all at once.

"Y/n. Fuck. You feel so fucking good." He was getting close. He always got nicer when he was getting close. "Fucking ... hah ... filthy little whore. I'm gonna cum in you so fucking hard. Fuck."

He fucked into you at a frenetic pace, not stopping for anything. Paying no mind to the grunts, groans and curses that left your mouth. If anything, it was egging him on more.

"I'm gonna cum, y/n. Fucking take it. Take all of it in that fucking cunt of yours. Filthy ... fil-thee ... ah, fil- FUCK! OH FUCK!"

He pulled you down hard onto his lap, filling you up with his seed.

"Jesus ... fucking ... Christ. Oh fuck, y/n."

You collapsed onto his chest and he held you tight.

"You're the best little whore for me, y/n. Just wait till next time. Next time will be even better."

You snuggled into him, wondering what he had in store for you next.

"Ok, ok, you gotta go. I gotta get back to my shit. God, you're just so ... distracting."

He pushed you off of his lap and onto the messy cushion next to him on the couch.

"You're not getting paid to be on the floor." He almost yelled.

"Levi?" You said.

"Yes," He gathered up his clothing from the floor and put everything back on. "I ..." he sighed and looked at you like he didn't just spend the last 2 hours treating you like absolute shit.

Like he already missed you.

Emotionally constipated bastard.

"I love you, too." You said as he closed the door to his office and you heard his footsteps, a little less heavy than when he came in, heading down the hall.

#levi smut #levi ackerman smut #levi aot smut #aot levi smut #aot levi ackerman smut #aot smut #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi attack on titan smut #levi ackerman attack on titan smut

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hulijingemperor2 · 10 days

Text

Some time later, A-Yao, Xichen and team dimple became drunk.

Also, team d were untied.

Xichen: *singing while laying on the floor*

Yao: *laying on Xichen's chest in his fox form.

Xue yang: xuanyu. Is it like illegal to hump a fox?

Mo xuanyu: it's ok since that it's Yao gege.

Xichen: do you guys see my hickeys? It's beautiful isn't it?!

Su she: I HAVE MORE THAN YOU!!!

Xichen: oh really?! And what does that prove, Sushiiiii. *laughing*

Su she: that Yao huangdi loves me more!

Yao: you two, shut up. You have 8 each.

Xue yang: Jiggy can you bite me?

Yao: no.

Mo xuanyu: he becomes more savage when he's drunk. LOL!!

Yao: *morphs back into his human form*

Xue yang: Jiggy, what should I do to get you?

Yao: *opens fan*

Xichen: *hugs* Jiggy.

Mo xuanyu: Lan lips I'm not Yao gege!!! Get off!

Xichen: oh shoot. That's why you don't smell like peonies.

Mo xuanyu: you're very rude, you know.

And I'll beat you up.

Xichen: try. Come at me bro.

Mo xuanyu: whoever knocks out someone's teeth first gets Yao gege.

Su she: I'm betting all my money on mo xuanyu!!

Xue yang: nah. Lan lips is a beast when he drinks alcohol.

Su she: I remembered Lan zhan fought me when he was drunk. Maybe lipsy is the same thing.

Xue yang: freaky Lans.

Su she: I want to elope with Huangdi while they're fighting.

Xue yang: same!

Yao: *sitting while sobered up*

Mo xuanyu: you fight like a girl, Lan lips.

Xichen: *grabs hair*

Yao: *fanning himself* you don't know how silly you all look.

Qin Su : *enters* lol what's going on here. Team D!

Yao: I'm watching them fight over me.

Qin Su: well that's normal. *massages his scalp* as my Yao Huangdi is really attractive after all.

Yao: exactly. Come. *supports her* have a seat.

Qin su: sure.

Yao: are you comfy?

Qin Su: yea Huangdi.

Su she: *blushing* Miss Qin.

Xichen: who?

Qin Su: me! You shameless Lan!

Mo xuanyu: *sitting on Xichen while wrestling with him* Other woman! Hiiiiii! Can you give me a hairpin so that I can stab Lan lips?

Xichen: noooo. I think I'm afraid of sharp objects!

Mo xuanyu: big coward.

Qin Su: aren't you a cultivator?

Xichen: but I'm a baby in the eyes of Jiggy.

Qin Su: *rolls eyes*

Xue yang: Lan lips, tell me more. I like to hear you talk when you're drunk.

Xichen: I want A-Yao to step on me with his execution boots again.

Qin Su: again??

Yao: *laughing*

Su she: I know right.

Qin Su: Juniors still partying?

Yao: yup. So we decided to party too.

Qin Su: *laughing* in the torture chamber??

How devious and attractive of Huangdi.

Yao: team dimple's suggestion.

Qin Su: they're wild. But crazy for you!

Anyways who won't be.

Yao: exactly. Shall we all go to another room? The torture chamber isn't good for you and the baby.

Come team d. *holds Qin Su's hand*

Xue yang: coming Jiggy!!!!

Xichen: right behind you!!!!!

Mo xuanyu: Yao gege called ME!

Su she: yea Huangdi, we're coming!

~~~

In one of their living rooms~

Yao: *preparing tea* do you see Song'er and A-qing? They're are a cute couple?

Qin Su: yes. They're really adorable.

But A-qing is a bit crazy.

Yao: hmm, I agree. But she's in good shape.

She is witty, intelligent, a little respectable, loving.

Qin Su: I hope she's taking the relationship seriously.

Song'er isn't ordinary! He will soon inherit an empire for himself.

Yao: well let's see.

Yet I have high expectations for her.

one thing what hurt me was when she sold A-Song's gifts that he give her.

Qin su: how dare she!!! No one does that to my Song'er.

Yao: relax. She stopped doing it.

And will never do it again.

Qin su: good.

Qin Su: the harem is pleasing to the emperor.

So now, I just want to be a mother-in-law to A-Song's girlfriend

Yao: *laughing* and you're keeping your eyes on her?

Qin Su: yes.

Xue yang: wow Susu. You're tough.

Qin Su: I promised Yao Huangdi to love him, support him and take care of our family.

And taihou has a lot of expectations for me.

Plus she'll be the future Huanghou.

Yao: *smiling* how ideal of you.

Mo xuanyu: you don't get that from team dimple, Yao gege?????

Yao: of course I do. You all are very supportive.

Su she: awwwww. Huangdi!!

Yao: tomorrow is that soiree with the elite fox spirits.

Are you still up for it?

Qin Su: yes, but I don't think I'll stay for the garden party.

Yao: I understand. Should we have A-qing represent you?

Qin Su: ah, good idea. But she has to meet them first.

And maybe we can see if she's a good host.

Yao: and compatible with Song'er. I see.

Xue yang: *hugging A-Yao* you two are so hot and intelligent together. *sniffs* and you smell nice too.

Qin Su: chengmei.

Xue yang: you know you're wondering why I'm simping for you instead of Spicy Qingqing.

Wen Qing rejected me because she feels she's too hot.

But you're hella beautiful too. Gorgeous just like Jiggylicious.

Step on on me some time, Qin su!!!

Yao: *lifts chin* only I can step on you, yangyang.

Xue yang: better yet. Jiggy. *licks lips*

Susu, you can drill that brat as hard as you like, as it's a tough world out there.

And I won't get mad.

Qin Su: good. Because you better live with me drilling her.

Xue yang: yea I'll live with you.

Qin Su: that's not what I meant.

Xue yang: I dream of living with you and Jiggy in a cottage with one bed. But unfortunately Jiggy is an emperor and wouldn't like a small cottage.

I have to be a hitman and earn money to buy a mansion for 'his majesty' over here.

Yao: *rolls eyes*

Qin Su : dream big i guess.

I only love A-Yao though.

Xue yang: but I'm hot. But I don't blame you tho. Jiggy is Jiggy.

Susu, do you have any candy?

Qin Su: no.

Xue yang: fiesty just like Jiggy.

Su she: can you just give up. Empress Wen had rejected you.

Xue yang: sometimes you gotta ignore the shattered pieces from your heart and focus on the heart instead.

Su she: *almost throws up*

Mo xuanyu: *clapping* rightly said!! Yangyang you're so talented!!!

Xichen: *still drunk* who is that guy?! And why does he sound like a hopeless romantic. Or the babadook.

Xue yang: I'm your sleep paralysis demon, Lan lips. FEAR ME!!!!!

Xichen: I knew I should have got to bed earlier.

But no, I wanted to stay up in order to do papapa with A-Yao.

Mo xuanyu: horny Lan.

Su she: no respect for our Huangdi. Non!

Qin Su: I agree.

Xichen: but I'm a sweet person!.

Yao: yes you are. And he makes nice tea.

Xichen: mhm, I strive to be chivalrous. *smile*

Mo xuanyu: is thieving Yao gege from team dimple a chivalrous and virtuous thing?! Are we just gonna gloss over that!!

Su she: you snatched him away from us!

And everyone forgets that.

Xue yang: Xichen. Xichen. Xichen. Why did you have to do that to team dimple. That's kinda wrong.

Mo xuanyu: we should take you to court for stealing our husband.

Su she: Jail him!

Xichen: A-Yao help.

Qin Su: *laughing* Team dimple. why are they always so unhinged and dramatic than they actually are.

Yao: lol I love them like this.

Qin Su: same.

~~~~

Next day, everyone was going to have breakfast together.

Meng Shi: Sisi. Why are you standing? Sit next to me.

Sisi: *blushing* me? Huanghou jiejie?

But I'm your personal maid.

Meng Shi: no. You're my bestie. Come.

Sisi: *sits*

Su she: *pulling the chair for A-Yao, then he lovingly supported him into the seat*

Yao: lovely.

Su she: *hands him a pair of chopsticks*

Yao: thank you dear.

Yao: Song'er, Yi'er. How was the party?

Rusong: super lit.

Jingyi: it turned out hella wild. Ouyang Zizhen is still asleep in an empty Jacuzzi.

Yao: oh dear!

Jingyi: he had too much wine.

A-qing: a little too much.

Rusong: don't worry, A-Die. He'll wake up.

Yao: I don't think that sect leader ouyang would be pleased.

Rusong: Nainai, Nainai. When that angry, old sect leader comes, can you show him your dimples and pretty eyelashes?

Meng Shi: why?!

Rusong: because the Jianghu is weak for Meng beauty, Nainai. Everyone knows that.

Even Lan qiren said that you're pretty. He never compliments anyone.

Jingyi: that's true!

Mo xuanyu: *hiccups* not gonna lie. The Mengs are gorgeous.

*hiccups*

Meng Shi: *laughing* Yu'er, what happened to you?

Mo xuanyu: I'm stale *hiccup* drunk.

Su she: not only him taihou, but us too.

Xue yang: mo xuanyu was fighting with Lan lips.

Meng shi: he was???

Mo xuanyu: I was??

Did I knock him out?

Yao: *laughing*

A-qing: xue yang, are you really telling the truth?! I know that you three love to look tough in front of Jiggy.

Qin Su: *corrects* Huangdi.

A-qing: sorry, sorry. Jiggy Huangdi.

Xue yang: we are tough, A-qing. And i can confirm that mo xuanyu pulled Xichen's weave.

A-qing: that's fking awesome!!!!!

Meng Shi: where is he anyways?

Mo xuanyu: still sleeping.

Su she: I'm happy he's not here.

Qin Su: lol savage.

Xue yang: I see Jiggybuns is all sobered up.

Yao: I slept it off.

Meng Shi: because he's my son. He's more superior than everyone.

Yao: *smile*

Meng shi: *strokes hair*

Yao: A-niang. A-Su and I have sent out invites to the elite here, to have some tea with Song'er. Then a garden party afterwards.

Meng Shi: right.

Yao: he's the Taizi Dianxia of fox spirits. So he must be more accustomed to these types of things.

Rusong: A-Die, I would love to have them over. Rest assured, they'll be treated with great hospitality.

But I have to do some cultivation stuff later.

Yao: brilliant, Song'er. And that's OK!

A-qing: who are the elite? Rich gege?

Rusong: the most powerful fox spirits of the realm.

The elite consists of A-Die, Tamamo no mae who's the goddess and patron on Kitsunes.

A-qing: wait! I thought that nainai is the goddess of kitsunes.

Rusong: there are two. But Nainai is the goddess of Hulijings while Tamamo no mae is the goddess/immortal of Kitsunes.

A-qing: ohh.

Rusong: so there's A-Die, Tamamo no mae, Nainai, Su Wanghou of Zhou aka Su Daji. And lastly our ambassador Hua cheng.

I'm also a part of the elite.

A-qing: *gulps* I'm shy to meet them.

Rusong: I'll be by your side, A-qing. There's nothing to worry.

Qin su: A-qing. I'll send some clothes for you.

Meng shi: and I'll get you ready.

A-qing: what I'm wearing is not ok?!

Qin su: it's fine. But this outfit has the hulijing and Meng crest on it. It shows that you're a part of the family.

Meng Shi: dear it's a tradition. I gave four crested outfits to Qin gui fei. And brooches to the rest of the harem.

You'll look adorable.

A-qing: ok. Nainai. I would love to get a makeover from you!

Yao: the Meng crest is the peach blossom and Hulijing crest is the silhouette of a fox.

A-qing: ah. I get it, Jiggy Huangdi.

Later that day~~~

Sect leader Ouyang: *enters infuriated*

Salutations Yao huangdi.

Yao: former sect leader Ouyang. How are you?

Sect leader Ouyang: now where's my embarrassing son?

Yao: ah. He's right here.

Fox spirits: *supporting a drowsy ouyang Zizhen.*

Rusong: greetings sect leader.

Sect leader ouyang: hello Wangzi. I'm so sorry for my idiotic son.

Rusong: it's alright. Make sure he takes good rest.

Ouyang Zizhen: relax A-Die! Why you keep cranking my style, old man!

Sect leader ouyang: you got drunk and fell asleep in an empty Jacuzzi?!! And that too in a palace?!

You disappointed me yet again! Yao Huangdi, forgive me. I know you and Wangzi had helped us a lot.

Yao: Zongzhu, Zongzhu. You don't need to apologize. And ouyang zizhen is still young.

He still knows his duties as a young sect leader. He just wants to have fun.

Ouyang Zizhen: see A-Die. He's a very chill emps.

Yao: yes. Rest assured, Zongzhu. We aren't upset. Song'er and friends had enjoyed themselves.

Sect leader Ouyang: when would you have respect? Wangzi, how did he behave in front of your guests?

Rusong: very well. And he didn't flirt with any Fox spirits.

Ouyang zizhen: yea. Rusong had already given me hulijing girlfriends.

I got to take them out on a date tomorrow.

Sect leader Ouyang: you only care about girls girls girls! Huh! What about you being my successor! Do you see Rusong Wangzi acting like this?!

Ouyang Zizhen: A-Die, chill.

Ouyang zizhen: I rather give you a back hand slap than chill.

Meng Shi: *entering* sect leader ouyang. Pleasure to meet you.

Sect leader Ouyang: *looks in her direction*

Meng Shi: quarreling isn't good for health.

Would you like some tea?

Sect leader Ouyang: *dazed*

Meng shi: would you?

Sisi: Zongzhu, I'm not afraid to stab you for not answering her.

Sect leader Ouyang: *hiccups* well stab me.

I mean, taihou. Empress dowager. If you know a lot about health, then I'll definitely have some tea.

Meng Shi: help yourself.

Sect leader Ouyang: *hiccups*

Ouyang Zizhen: you're kinda gross A-Die.

Rusong: does he like my Nainai?!

Team d would start to hiccup whenever they see A-Die.

Sect leader Ouyang: *sips tea* you're really adorable. I mean the tea is adorable. I mean!! It's delicious.

Meng Shi: glad you enjoy.

Sect leader Ouyang; ehem. *wipes mouth* I got to go carry my home back to my son. I meant! I got to go carry my son back home. He's stale drunk.

Meng Shi: I thought you wanted to beat him.

Sect leader Ouyang: nah. He's young after all. Also he needs his rest.

Ouyang zizhen: *confused*

Rusong: you're saved.

Ouyang Zizhen: good!

Sect leader Ouyang: how do you have dimples? Like they're really cute.

Meng Shi: I was born with them. Duh!

Sect leader Ouyang: ah. Right right. Anyways, we got to go.

*kneels and kisses her hand*

Meng Shi: pleasure having you.

Ouyang Zizhen: May I depart, Huangdi?

Yao: sure. See you soon.

Zizhen, rest well ok? And we look forward to see you again.

Ouyang Zizhen: thanks emps.

Bye Rusong. You're looking amazing.

Rusong: thank you, thank you. Byee.

Ouyang Zizhen: isn't his highness looking amazing??

#the huli jing emperor #foxyao #hulijing emperor 2 #meng yao #dimpledlianfang #jin guangyao #jin zixuan #part 2 #su she #the untamed #Rusong #Ouyang Zizhen

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