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peachesofteal · 4 months

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Dead Disco / Chapter 11

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Relationship issues, arguments. Angst. Toxic behavior. Johnny is struggling. Everyone is going through it. Johnny struggles.

"No contact?!" Johnny chokes, and you hesitate on the other end of the line, sharp breath rattling through the speaker phone.

“My… my therapist thinks it would be good, to try it. For thirty days. Just to see how I feel.” Johnny’s fingers stretch across the front pocket of his pants.

Thirty days?

You’ve already been gone five, and it feels like five years.

He balks. No. No, this. This can't be. You have to be home, with them. Where you belong. Where they can fix it.

“Ye… no, I thought… I thought this was just a break?” He doesn’t recognize his voice. It’s ragged and torn to shreds, and now fear makes it tremble.

What does this mean?

“It is, it is. I just… I have to try this.” You sound as sad, as fucked up as he does, and he wants to scream, throw the phone against the wall, say screw it all to hell and go over to your rental, bang on the door until you let them inside.

“Of course, darling.” Simon soothes, and Johnny stares at him like he's lost his grasp on reality. Of course? Of course?! “We understand, we… we can do that. We’ll do whatever you want.”

“No.” Johnny cuts in, he can’t stop himself, can’t control his mouth. He can’t agree to this, to not talking to you, or seeing you for thirty days. He can’t do it. “I-“

“ Johnny.”

“Johnny-“ You both say his name at the same time. Yours is a plea. Simon’s is cautionary, finger seeking the mute button, cutting you out of the conversation for a split second, long enough for him to utter a warning.

“Do not push her on this. We need to let her decide right now. She’s in control.”

“Hello?”

“We’re here.” Simon assures you, unmuting the phone. “We understand. No contact, thirty days. Will you reach out, afterwards?”

“I… I will, I promise.”

“And you’ll take care of yourself?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a gulp. Simon’s façade cracks, enough that Johnny can see the fear that lurks there, the worry.

“Ye-yeah. I am. I will.”

“Will you come to bed?”

Johnny’s thumbs press together, overlapping where his fingers stay knitted tight, grasping onto one another like he’s holding onto himself for dear life.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in and then releases it slowly through his nose. It’s a self-soothing technique, one he’s seen you do a million times. But once he’s done, his response is no less acidic. “I cannae sleep.”

Silence is his answer, until-

“Johnny.” Simon’s forearm wraps across his shoulders, pulling him backwards from the stool and into the cushiony warmth of his chest, heat burning into his back. Simon’s always been a furnace, a giant, weighted, heated blanket, his touch one of safety, security. Care.

But right now, all it feels like is anguish.

“Si.” He croaks, tears welling up behind his eyes. “I cannae do this any longer. I cannae… I need her back.”

“We need to be patient, and respect-“

“Respect?” Johnny blurts, incredulous. “No, No, I… We should be there, right now. We should be standing outside her door, we should be fightin’ for her, nae sitting ‘ere, waiting. Showin’ her how much she means; how sorry we are.” The warmth pulls away, an exasperated sigh blowing across the back of his neck.

“I’m not having this conversation again.” Simon is curt, growing cold, and it fuels the burning rage building inside Johnny’s stomach.

“Of course, because why would ye? It’s already settled in yer mind, isn’t it? That we just sit here, and wait, and let her slip away because ye coudnae keep yer mouth shut!” He’s said the same thing a thousand different ways over these last three weeks. Dressed Simon up and down six ways to Sunday over it, different verbiage each time.

The conversation always ends the same.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I can but I’m still mad at ye.”

The anger foils away, ebbing into sadness, despair, and Johnny’s sight goes black when he buries his face in his hands.

“I miss her.” He whispers to the floor. The warmth returns and wraps him in a snug embrace, soft words hummed against the shell of his ear, each one punctuated with a kiss.

“I know, I know you do. I do too.”

“You nearly got yourself blown up!” Simon roars, and Johnny nearly flinches, steeling himself against his partner’s anger. “You can’t be makin’ stupid decisions like that. You jeopardized-“

“I knew what I was doin’. Dinnae question me, ye dinnae know anything about the tech behind those explosives, and ye know it.” He stands a little straighter, indignant, insulted, and Simon’s eyes narrow, before squinting, tension shoving his shoulders down in a slump.

This isn’t like them. They’re always in lock step. One unit. One person, two hearts.

The cot creaks beneath Simon’s weight, elbows against his knees.

“Johnny, what’s going on?”

“What do ye mean?” Dirty, cheap laminate flooring stares up at him, patterns in the grit swirling together like sand.

“You’re not yourself. Price mentioned-“

“Ye and Price talkin’ ‘bout me?” Unsettled anger rattles him, immediate demand rising through his blood. Simon holds his hand up.

“No. He was concerned, said you were a little rash the other day, on the recon. Asked if everything was alright.” He blinks. Blinks over and over, tries to quash the surging agony, the upheaval of his stomach. He fights it, tries to breathe through it, tries to stop it in his tracks, but a big grip wraps around his wrist, and tugs.

He’s settled into Simon’s lap without another word, his nose to his neck, fingers stroking through his mohawk.

“It’s going to be alright. You’re alright. We’re going to get her back, love.”

“I cannae do this. Ye dinnae know-“

“I know.” He squeezes him, calming him, and Johnny melts a little, sharp blade of the pain turning dull. “I know that the best thing we can do right now is be patient, and respect what she’s asked us to do. When she’s ready, she’ll let us know, and we’ll do everything we can, to try to fix it. To make it better.”

“I feel like there’s a hole-“ His hand rubs his chest, over and over, until the skin burns. “Like there’s a piece missing. I dinnae think I can do it, without her.” His voice breaks, and Simon’s attempt to calm him comes out like a strangled cry. “It hurts, Si.”

“We won’t. We just have to be patient, Johnny. We have to. We have to show her we can do it.” Simon murmurs, and then they both slip into a sad silence, Johnny huffing through his tears against Simon’s chest until he’s dragging them both down into the little cot, escaping into the comfort of uneasy sleep.

The flat is too quiet.

Lately, he’s been putting your favorite movies on in the small hours of the morning. Simon sleeps in now, restless until the sun starts to come up, and then he finally sinks beneath pull of dreams, or nightmares, whichever comes first.

So, Johnny curls up on the couch by himself, with your favorite tea, flip flopping between the rotation of movies that you always had rolling in the background, when you were painting, when you were cooking, or even reading.

But today, he paces. Back and forth from the bedroom, the kitchen, to the art room, the one you left half barren, the one that still holds nearly finished paintings, dried tubes of paint, stiff bristled brushes, long discarded for new ones, but not thrown away.

“I’m going to the gym, want to come?” Simon is hovering just outside the door, brows fixed together. He hasn’t stepped foot in here, Johnny has noticed, not since you left nearly a month ago. In fact, he avoids this room like the plague.

“No, ye go on.”

“You sure?” His head cocks in consideration, and then he nods.

“Yeah. Love ye.”

“Love you too. Be good.”

“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” Johnny seethes, arms crossed. Their half-eaten plates still sit cold on the table, mocking him since Simon left in the middle of the meal an hour ago.

“Out. For a walk.” The hoodie comes up and over his shoulders, and Johnny catches a whiff of it.

Cigarette smoke.

“A walk, eh? Ye out walkin’, and smoking?”

“Johnny.”

“Dinnae Johnny me, ye’ve been smoking, I can smell it.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” He snaps, turning his back, heading into the bedroom, the bathroom.

“Ye dinnae want to do what?”

“This. Fight. Argue.” The shower clicks on, steam slowly building from the floor as Simon shucks his joggers, his boxers, Johnny’s eyes struggling to stay fixed on his partner’s face.

“I’m not arguing, I… I dinnae understand how ye can be so casual about this, it’s-“

“What am I supposed to do?” Simon turns on him, still angry, still hurt from their conversation earlier. It brews beneath the surface like a finely veiled stormed, just barely held back. “Lose my head? Fall apart?”

“I dinnae, talk to me?” Simon’s jaw clenches. Every scar on Simon’s back speaks to him, tells him stories, corroborates his witness accounts. Johnny wishes he could take them away; wishes he could kiss them.

But Simon feels so far away now. He’s felt miles away since you left, since the bed slept three, table slept three, couch held three.

“I’m right here, Si. I’m here.”

Johnny knows what he’s doing is wrong. He’s fully self-aware, but completely out of control. His legs carry him down the street on autopilot, barrage of requests and demands from his rational self trying to break through the encasement where he’s locked them away.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t.

He can’t help it. He can’t do this… anymore. It’s killing him. It’s killing Si.

He worries it’s killing you.

He tells himself he’s just going to check on you, make sure you’re okay. He’s not going to bother you, just make you’re alive. He’s not going to stay, he’s just going to say hi, ensure you’re safe, healthy, and then leave.

If you even open the door.

Guilt, anxiety, fear all turns over in his stomach, freezing through his blood as he climbs the stairs to your long term rental. He just needs to see you, needs lay eyes on you, just once, and it will all be okay. He’ll be okay, once he knows you’ll be okay.

Simon is going to be so bloody pissed. He grimaces. He knows there will be hell to pay. That Simon will be enraged, disappointed. That he’ll be upset.

They made a promise. He made a promise.

And now he’s going to break it, just like that.

He stands outside your door for too long, contemplating. Trying to sift through every decision he’s ever made, that led him to this point. He could still turn around, still go home, even though his finger is itching to ring the bell, a burning desire searing through his mind, urging him forward until his forehead is thunking softly against the wood, eyes closing.

Darling.

He can still see your face, your smile. The ways your eyes light up, the way your voice sounds when you say his name.

“I need ye, we need ye.” He whispers to no one, and then his finger presses the button, breath holding in his chest.

A few seconds pass. He strains to listen, latching onto the sound of footsteps inside, the click of a lock, the creak of the hinges, and then the door opens wide, revealing you on the other side.

“Darling.” You’re haunted, a flicker of a memory, a sharpened shadow sawing into the soft matter of his brain. You blink like you're trying to clear your vision, like you're struggling to see him, and he offers you an uneasy smile, something nervous and unsettled. You shake your head, mouth open in surprise, confusion, eyes wide.

“Johnny.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and jason have a complicated relationship, but when you find yourself in a troubling situation, jason just happens to be your emergency contact

𝐜𝐰: female!reader, minimal swearing, sexual assault, cat calling, assault, violence, 1.5k, jason todd x reader

midnights in gotham city smell distinctly of blood. the dark streets are littered with corpses of victims who stain the rubble red. crime is high and murder remains rampant among the homeless people living on the streets. you know walking home alone at this hour alongside the hundreds of criminals that hide in the shadows is a terrible idea. but your shift at the library ran late tonight and you had no other means of transportation, hence the reason why you find yourself alone in a dark alley far from the comfort and safety of your apartment.

the faint footsteps of desperate strangers lurk behind you, the sound echoes through the night, and your skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to follow. nothing good comes from the situation that you’ve found yourself in and that’s what brings you to pull out your phone and tap on the first contact that pops up on your screen.

jason.

your relationship with jason is complicated. like most things in your life you suppose. but jason is the only one who’s almost always by your side. maybe that’s part of what possessed you to click on his name on your phone and bring it up to your ear with trembling fingers.

“hey, sweet—”

“jason, I think i’m being followed.” you breathe out quickly and you don't dare to peek so much as a glance behind you.

“shit. hang on, babe. just—”

jason's voice, laced with urgency, cuts through the tense night as the echo of your footsteps intensifies. the sounds of the desolate alley amplify, creating an eerie symphony of fear and impending danger.

“i’m so scared, jay,” your shaky voice reaches jason, carrying the weight of dread as if it were a tangible thing. in response, jason's voice becomes a soothing anchor, his words a balm to your frayed nerves.

“hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. tell me where you are,” jason's voice, steady and reassuring, breaks through the chaos. your breath catches as you fumble to provide your location, the darkness of the alley making every detail obscure.

“I don’t know, I think in an alley near the corner of 5th and main. I thought it would be quicker. jason, please hurry,” desperation seeps into your words, painting a vivid picture of the peril you find yourself in.

“just hang on, i’m on my way,” jason's promise becomes a lifeline, a lifeline you desperately clutch onto. the plea, "don’t hang up, please don’t hang up," echoes through the phone, the fear of losing that connection palpable.

“I won’t, honey. just keep telling me what’s going on, okay?” jason's voice is a steady stream of reassurance, a counterpoint to the mounting chaos.

your breath quickens as you confess, "there’s multiple, jay."

“multiple what? sweetheart, talk to me,” jason's concern deepens, the gravity of the situation reflected in the intensity of his inquiry.

“people, there’s multiple people. they’re still following me, and I can’t lose them,” your voice quivers, painting a chilling image of the shadows closing in.

“i’m almost there, okay? just hang on a little longer, can you do that for me?” jason’s words are a beacon of hope, urging you to endure the storm just a little while longer.

“they’re getting closer. shit,” panic infuses your voice as the chase intensifies. jason senses the urgency, a quiet determination in his response.

the abrupt cut-off and your distressed cry for help and jason’s call to you, "y/n!?" mark the harrowing turn. the phone, a lifeline moments ago, is silenced by a crushing foot, an audible confirmation of the looming threat.

“looks like your boyfriend isn’t going to make it, gorgeous,” a sinister voice taunts, the malevolence palpable in the dimly lit alley. the struggle intensifies, and your defiant words ring through the night.

“get off of me, you creep!” your voice is a mix of fear and defiance, a visceral response to the encroaching menace.

“watch your tone, sweetie,” a chilling warning hangs in the air as they pin you down. the confrontation takes a dark turn as you spit in their faces, a desperate act of resistance.

“such a shame that’s what you’re using such a pretty mouth for,” a sinister chuckle underscores the dehumanizing intent, leaving a bitter taste in the tense air.

“that’s alright, we don’t want you for your mouth anyway,” a chilling statement, a precursor to unspeakable horrors, hangs over the alley.

in the clash of desperation and violence, the air changes as jason, your vigilante savior, descends upon the scene like a guardian angel emerging from the shadows. the sounds of a fierce struggle ensue, muffled grunts and the scuff of boots on concrete. with a swift, powerful intervention, the men are knocked out and when they loosen their grip you sink to the ground with defeat and despair. you don’t even notice you’re crying until jason gently prys your hands from your face and rubs your tears away with the rough thumb of his leather glove

then, in one swift motion, jason's strong, reassuring arms envelop you, pulling you into an embrace that feels like sanctuary. relief washes over you, grounding you in the reality of his protective presence.

“it's okay, sweetheart. you're safe now,” jason's voice, previously a lifeline over the phone, now echoes directly into your ear, a soothing melody that erases the lingering echoes of fear. his words are a healing balm, mending the wounds of terror inflicted upon your psyche.

the dimly lit alley transforms from a nightmare into a haven under the watchful gaze of your friend. the tension in your shoulders eases, and the erratic beat of your heart gradually steadies as you bask in the warmth of his reassuring touch.

“i've got you, y/n. you're safe,” jason whispers, the warmth of his breath against your ear a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by fear. the resonance of those words sinking deep into the recesses of your shaken soul. his presence is a shield against the haunting memories of the alley, a reassurance that the nightmare is over.

the shattered phone lies forgotten, a casualty of the struggle, as jason continues to shield you from the residual fear. he tilts your chin up gently, meeting your eyes with an unwavering gaze that speaks volumes of his commitment and protective instinct.

“let's get you home,” jason murmurs, his fingers tenderly brushing away a stray strand of hair from your face. together, you navigate the now-quiet alley, the looming threat replaced by the solid ground beneath your feet and the reassuring touch of the person who faced the darkness on your behalf.

as you approach the familiar comfort of your apartment, jason's protective hold lingers. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice a gentle murmur that eases the residual tension in your body. you nod against his chest, words escaping you as relief and gratitude flood your senses.

the apartment door closes with a muffled thud, shutting out the ominous whispers of the night. jason, ever watchful, guides you towards the bathroom. the soft hum of the overhead light bathes the space in a gentle glow, revealing the porcelain sink and mirror.

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – disheveled, eyes wide with residual fear. without a word, jason turns on the faucet, letting the water flow until it reaches a soothing warmth. his fingers graze yours, urging you to lean over the sink.

the splashing water echoes in the small room as jason's hands cup and scoop, the liquid cascading over your face. the feel of his fingers against your skin is both tender and firm, each touch a cleansing ritual that washes away the remnants of the night.

you glance up into the mirror, meeting jason's eyes. there's an unspoken understanding as his hands move methodically, the cool water providing a refreshing contrast to the heated intensity of the ordeal. the sensation is grounding, a simple act of care that transcends words.

as you straighten up, a vulnerability lingers in your gaze. you turn off the faucet, and the silence hangs in the air. the wet droplets cling to your skin, a tangible reminder of the shared intimacy in this simple act of cleansing. jason's hands linger on your face, his fingers tracing a silent promise. the air in the bathroom holds a charged stillness, the transition from fear to intimacy palpable.

the urgency of the night lingers in your eyes. “stay, jason, please,” the plea escapes your lips, a raw, desperate plea that echoes in the confined space of the bathroom. his gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to shift.

there's a pause, a heartbeat suspended in time, before jason's expression softens. his agreement is wordless, a nod that carries the promise of a shared refuge in the night.

the journey from the bathroom to the bedroom is taken in tandem, the touch of his hand on the small of your back a grounding force. the mattress welcomes you both, and the room is immersed in the soft glow of bedside lamps. the night unfolds with shared breaths and jason's hand finding yours.

“thank you.” you whisper to him under the sheets, the warmth of his body next to you radiating into your own, “thank you for protecting me.”

“i’ll always protect you, sweetheart.”

masterlist . jason todd masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

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josiesullysblog · 1 year

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Not so Small Now?

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~Fluff, breast play?, touching

~Proofread?-yes

~Summary-You are older then Neteyam by a year, Neteyam is a love sick fool and you tell him the only way you mate is if he grows taller then you.

You were 365 and one whole days older than Neteyam. So, your whole life you felt like you had an advantage. In your tiny four-year-old mind you could tell him what to do because you are the oldest. And he blindly listened, “Neteyam go fetch me some beads for my hair!” He’d send you a toothy smile, “okay!” “Neteyam can you find me the biggest fish, please!” “okay, Nova!”

Now, Neteyam was in love with you the minute he met you. Always followed behind you, you were the only person he let walk all over him. You found it fun having the boy wrapped around your fingers, but you never asked too much of the boy.

When you were nine and he was eight, he brought you a handful of flowers, “my Nova!” You had been playing with some older kids when he came running. The older kids started snickering as they noticed his eyes were glued on you, “are these flowers for me?” You smiled and took them in your hand, “can you be my mate?”

Hope was laced in his eyes as the kids behind laughed harder, “she can't mate with you!” You shot them a glare, “I can do whatever I want,” you walked off with the flowers in hand and Neteyam on your trail. “So, does this mean we can mate?” you shook your head, “thanks for the flowers, but we can't mate! We are far too young!” Neteyam frowned, “when we get older will you mate with me?”

You pretended to think a bit, “I’ll mate with you when you become taller than me!” He smiled big, “I've found a mate! I’m going to tell Lo’ak!” he ran off quickly while you sighed, in your little mind he was never gonna become taller than you because you were older.

Neteyam ran all the way home with the biggest smile, “I’ve found a mate!” Neytiri turned quickly looking at the boy crazy, “son, you are far too young to think of such things,” Neteyam shook his head, “I and Nova are promised in the stars! I just have to become taller than her!” Neytiri snickered a bit laughing at the boy. “Well, I can't wait for that day,” Neteyam nodded before finding Lo’ak and telling him the same thing.

Long story short, you were wrong. Very wrong. You had completely forgotten about the bet. You had picked up many new hobbies, one being drawing, so your mind was moving too quickly to even stop and look at the boy. To notice the now twenty-year-old is no longer a child, but a man. Neteyam didn’t forget, he was waiting till after his ceremony to trap you. Not in a weird way, just when you two can be alone. So he can finally confess how he truly feels. How for the last year, since your ceremony, that no man attempt to court you. Your beauty to him was something he only should cherish.

As the months came by quickly, Neteyam’s ceremony was coming quickly. You didn't think much of it, but for some reason, a pain hit your heart when you thought of Neteyam with another. But that's crazy because he was just the boy who followed you around. Right?

You sat in complete silence as you drew the scenery around you. Besides the movement of the wind and the slight rustle of the trees, you were in such a peaceful state you didn't notice Neteyam lurking. You got up leaving your work on the floor to go get some water by the river. You hummed a song as the boy matched your pace, unbeknownst to you.

You bent down carefully feeling the water, you sighed with contentment, “feels good?” Neteyam said coming out from the bushes. You quickly turned as you heard the familiar voice, “teyem I told you to stop scaring me!” the boy simply smirked as he joined you, “well, that wouldn't be much fun.”

Your eyes stuck on the boy as he took his place next to you. Was this the same boy you grew up with? Because the boy in front of you made a slight blush cover your face, and your heartbeat go up a little. “What are you doing this deep in the forest anyway? Don’t you need to be preparing for your ceremony?” you gave the boy a playful smile. “I wanted to see you,” you stood up causing the boy to. He gently grabbed your arm pushing you onto a tree. It was then that you noticed how much the boy had grown. How he was much stronger than you, how held be able to do anything to you.

He chuckled as a noticeable blush covered your face, “not so small now, huh?” you looked away from the boy who was quick to grab your chin. “Aw, the baby can’t keep eye contact?” you crumbled under his gaze, “shut up, Neteyam,” his gaze only intensified, “I've been quiet about how I've felt for the last year, baby.” his hands trailed down your body as he spoke, causing small gasps to fall out. “For the last year, ever since your ceremony, I’ve prayed to Ewya that you may never find another. Or I don’t know what I'd do,” his words caused a feeling in between your legs. His hands stopped on top of your breast, softly touching the nipples, he squeezed the nipple hard, a loud moan coming out as a result. “Dear Ewya, even now I'm so tempted to bend you over and fuck you.”

He dragged your hand over his hard cock, “feel this? This is what you do to me, pretty girl,” your eyes were locked with the boy’s as he continued his assault on your breasts, you gently placed a hand on his face bringing it closer to you. “If you don’t stop now, we’ll get in trouble,” your words of reason were true, but you wanted him to continue going.

“Listen to me, the minute we are finished with that ceremony, I'm going to fuck you.” he let go of you, helping you off the tree. The whole walk home, your mind was going crazy. You could not wait till after that ceremony.

***

Lazy ending ik:( I’ll definitely try and update this, but thankfully I was able to write! I have an important test coming up so I won't be able to write till this weekend but hope you enjoy it!!

#avatar way of water #neteyam #jake sully #loak x reader #avatar #avatar loak #avatar neytiri #neteyam x y/n #neteyam smut

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h4m1lt0ns · 9 months

Text

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴lewis hamilton x singer!wolff!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔lewis keeps lurking under y/n’s posts, so y/n posts the hardest yet softest launch known to man

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔madison beer

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕cussing, fluff

y/nwolff

♡ liked by y/ntheeicon, lewishamilton and 4,294,293 more.

y/nwolff i miss u paris

492,203 comments.

username MOTHERRRRRRR

username the first photo 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

username I WANT YOU SO BAD

username you’re soOoOoo–

username MY WIFE 🤞🏽😩

username my crush on you gets worse by the day

username WE NEED YOU BACK IN THE PADDOCK

username mommy? sorry, mommy? sorry. MOMMY???

username pls say ur attentending the next gp, we miss u bro 😭

mercedesamgf1 we miss you around baby boss ☹️ 💗

➜ y/nwolff i NEED to see u guys 😭🖤

username you’re literally the prettiest girl alive i swear

username new music when 🧐

username LANA DEL RAY CODEDDDDD

lewishamilton 🤩😍🤩

lewishamilton no one like you

lewishamilton you’re actually so pretty 😍

➜ y/nwolff missing u especially lew 🥺

➜ lewishamilton when are u coming again :(

➜ y/nwolff next week i promise !!

username i have a crush on you miss wolff

➜ username ur just like me fr

landonorris the whole paddock misses u

➜ y/nwolff I CANT WAIT TO SEE U LANDINOOOOO

username my girl my girl my girl 😩

username mineeeeee 😖

username new music when ma’am? we’re starving

username y/n i need new songs like i need air

username 🕯 manifesting new songs 🕯

charles_leclerc i miss you around

➜ y/nwolff i miss u too :’(

➜ charles_leclerc GIVE US NEW SONGS Y/N

➜ y/nwolff DON’T YELL AT ME 😭 IM IN THE STUDIO AS WE SPEAK

➜ username LMFAOOO CHARLES

➜ username SO TRUE BESTIE CHARLES

➜ username oh he’s just like us fr

username charles is so real

username i miss you violating the boys at the gp

➜ y/nwolff me too man, me too.

[twitter]

y/nwolff

♡ liked by y/nmercedes, lewishamilton, and 3,194,294 more.

y/nwolff been here for one hour and pops already wants to die 😁

tagged: lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1.

392,103 comments.

mercedesamgf1 welcome back baby boss 🫡

➜ y/nwolff 🖤🤞🏽

lewishamilton u look gorgeous that jacket goes hard

➜ y/nwolff the best taught me

lewishamilton second fit tho 👀

➜ y/nwolff like what u see 🤭

username beautiful, gorgeous, pretty, angelic, iconic, once in a life time, will never be mine, i want her so bad, literally perfect.

username mommy 😩

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username YOURE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON IVE EVER SEEN MY EYES WERE BLESSED

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username the fact that i’ll never be ur girlfriend makes my mental

username GOD WHY CANT U BE MINE

susiewolff we missed you beautiful 🥳💘

➜ y/nwolff u’re my favourite person forever 🤞🏽🖤

➜ lewishamilton i thought i was ur favourite 🥲

➜ y/nwolff you are!!! you’re my special mine

➜ username WHAT

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➜ username lewis get in line ur not special to me

➜ username WHAT DO YOU MEANNNN

➜ username Y/N WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOR

➜ username DAMN LEWIS MOVE

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➜ username WHAT IS GOING ON

landonorris u better come to the mclaren garage

➜ y/nwolff omw rn 🏃🏼‍♀️

carlossainz55 if you don’t come to the ferrari garage charles might kill himself

➜ maxverstappen1 nope, rb garage first

➜ y/nwolff can’t we all hang out in one place 😀

➜ danielricciardo no

➜ charles_leclerc absolutely not, i need my y/n time

➜ landonorris i literally got here before all of you get in line

➜ pierregasly you’re all jokes, y/n tell them i’m first

➜ lewishamilton i’ve been here since 8 am, i’m actually here first

➜ carlossainz55 oh come on mate she’s ALWAYS with you let’s us have her ffs

➜ lewishamilton no.

➜ y/nwolff lew stop it

➜ y/nwolff all of u come see me at catering, it’s either now or never bc dad doesn’t want me to see the rb boys

➜ mercedesamgf1 baby boss, big boss says come to his office 😖

➜ y/nwolff SEE. YALL DONE GOT ME IN TROUBLE. GOD. SOMEONE SAVE ME.

➜ lewishamilton omw 🏃🏾

➜ y/nwolff slay prince charming

username this comment section is making my head spin

username ARE Y/N AND LEWIS-

username loosing my mind, this is the best comment section ever

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username WHATS GOING ON WITH Y/N AND LEWIS YALL

lewishamilton

♡ liked by y/nwolff, mercedesamgf1 and 8,384,290 more.

lewishamilton 🎈 🎂

comments on this post have been limited.

y/nwolff happy birthday lew, i love you <3

➜ lewishamilton i love you more, thank you for everything love 🖤

mercedesamgf1 happy birthday to the goat 🎂

carlossainz55 happy birthday lewis!

louisvuitton 🎈🎈🎈

danielricciardo HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWWISSS

landonorris happy birthday you icon.

charles_leclerc happy birthday ❤️🖤

pierregasly HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEW !!

susiewolff happy birthday lewis, we love you 💗

y/nwolff

♡ liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 10,382,582 others.

y/nwolff look at us, you and i back at it again. happy birthday to you lewis. lewis, the love of my life, and the only man i’ll ever post on my page because other wise it’s paid promo. i’ve loved you since the very first moment i laid eyes you and i will always love you. you’ve always been the kindest, and just the sweetest person i’ve ever come across, you’re the brightest light in the room like the lightening that illuminates the sky in the darkest nights. my one and only love, the one i’ll always look forward to seeing at the beginning and end of all my days. my baby and my darling angel, you’re the faint sun rays through the window when the sun begins to rise and the bright moonlight when the moon is full in the sky, you’re the shinning eyes of a little kid that got their favourite candy and and the intoxicating scent of freshly sprayed cologne. you’re the only person who can truly lift me up and make me feel better regardless of what i’m going through and there hasn’t been a single dull moment with you, and i hope it stays this way. you’re the inspiration that makes an artist smile from ear to ear with excitement and the glowy beautiful snow flakes that fall every winter. you’re the laughter that bubbles insides visitors at disneyland and the answer to ‘what is love?’. you’re every thing i could ever ask for and more; and there’s nothing that i wouldn’t do to be able to love you for a lifetime. forever always sounded like a long time, but i would give up everything if i get a forever and then some with you. i love you. i will always, always love you. always.

with that being said, northern lights (lewis’ song) is out now, available on all streaming sites.

985,285 comments.

username LANA DEL RAY LYRICS?? OH THEYRE IN THIS LOVE SHIT FOR LIFE

username i just fell down the stairs.

lewishamilton wow.

username ahahaha i’m so normal abt this !!!! ahahHHAAHHA

charles_leclerc lewis is crying

➜ lewishamilton liar

➜ carlossainz55 it’s fine we’re all crying with you

➜ username LMFAO CHARLES

username OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL

username CRYING BECAUSE WHAT 😃

username THEYRE DATING ??? OH MY FUCK THEYRE DATING.

username Y/N STAND UP THIS ISNT YOU YOURE MINE 🥲

username “the only man i’ll ever post otherwise it’s paid promo” poetic hilarity.

username IVE OFFICIALLY CRACKED.

username TEARSSSSSS 🥹🥹🥹

username THIS IS SO CUTE IM CRYING 🥺🥺

username “you’re the faint sun rays through the window when the sun begins to rise and the bright moonlight when the moon is full in the sky” Y/N OH MY GOD

username oh. oh she really loves him huh.

lilymhe crying this is adorable, what’s not adorable is that she was my wife first.

➜ lewishamilton your wife?

➜ lilymhe did i stutter?

➜ y/nwolff omg babygirl i’m blushing stop 🤭

➜ lewishamilton she is mine, lily, goodnight.

➜ username okay possessive king

username I WANT LOVE LIKE THIS

username bUT WE HAVE KIDS Y/N-

username [crying violently]

username “brighter than the northern lights, you’re in every colour” SOBBINGGGGG

username THE SONGGGGG BRO THE SONG

username I WANT A SONG DEDICATED TO ME TOO

username the fact that we just have to find out abt releases is hilarious, no schedule, no nothing

username “like paintings in a picture frame there’s only you i see right now” Y/N WOLFF, YOU DID IT AGAIN.

username MY PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP IS GONE 💔💔💔

landonorris repulsive, done beautifully. adorable even.

lewishamilton okay maybe i am crying 😕🖤

mercedesamgf1 were in tears this is everything 🥹❤️

mercedesamgf1 the grid’s power couple 🤞🏽‼️

mercedesamgf1 big boss says the song is beautiful

➜ y/nwolff YESSSSSSS 🥳🥳

➜ username toto is just like us fr

lewishamilton thank you for giving me the opportunity to love you for the past three years my love and i’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. i love you 🖤

➜ y/nwolff i love you more than love itself

➜ username GODDDDDDDDD

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username 😭😭😭😭😭

#f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfiction #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x y/n #lewis hamilton x you #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #pierre gasly x reader #toto wolff x reader #wolff!reader #singer!reader #max verstappen x reader

2K notes · View notes

ivestas · 1 year

Text

a good shot

Summary: König had a staring problem, so you confront him about it.

Tags: sniper!fem!reader x konig, platonic!141 x reader, barely edited, awkward, unintentional confession(?)

Word count: 1.1k

Note: my mw2 obsession is real. been trying to deny it but its all that occupies my brain.... send some reqs?? i have such a bad habit of saying that then not following thru but i promise i will LMFAOOO (nah but fr tho im working on ur guys’ requests, just veryyyy slowly since, again, mw2 brainrot) also sorry if this seems rushed, i just wanted to get this idea out of my head hehe

König had a staring problem.

You really didn’t know why, but whenever he was near, you could practically feel his gaze burn a hole through your skin.

You weren’t one to care for stares—you were used to it, especially in your early years as a merc. Most would just be curious why a woman was wearing a bullet vest, especially civilians.

But... König’s eyes were intense. Nothing like the curious—or even hateful—looks you were used to.

You were sure you hadn’t done anything wrong; you barely spoke, never really caring too. You kept to yourself. You didn’t particularly stand out next to your flamboyant peers.

So... why?

You’d first asked Soap about it: he was a people person, always seemed to know someone’s intentions in an instant.

However, he was confused. “He stares at you?”

"You hadn’t noticed?”

“No? I barely see the lad in general, always skulkin’ in some shadow.”

“Seriously?” You frowned. “Then you think you’d know why?”

“Hmmm... here, maybe if I get my crystal ball and ponder for a bit I can find out!”

"Shove the ball up your ass instead.” You snorted. Soap laughed, probably at his own joke than yours.

Getting up, you headed to your next target: Ghost.

You found him in the mess hall, taking apart his rifle on one of the cafeteria tables by himself. Without a second thought, you slid beside him. He didn’t acknowledge you.

Propping your head up with a hand, you look at him. Despite it being night, he’s still wearing his balaclava and shades. You decided it’s best not to make a comment about it since you’re trying to pry answers regarding the Austrian Colossus.

“You’ve noticed König staring at me, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Do you think you’d know why? I’m sure I hadn’t done anything to piss him off, but he’s always just... you know...” you widen your eyes, leaning in. “Doing this. I don’t know whether to be unsettled or flattered.”

Ghost carefully puts two pieces of his rifle together, a satisfying click resonating in the air. “Maybe he’s surprised why the 141 got a clown for a sniper.” He intoned.

“Says the guy wearing a skeleton balaclava and tinted shades—scared the enemies are gonna find out you’re actually just a loser with nothing to his name?” You said the words too quickly, and when Ghost looked at you, he probably knew the thought was bubbling in your head.

"...”

“...”

You couldn’t help the laugh that crawled out your throat, and you noticed that the corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkled.

“...So you don’t know?”

He snorted. “I’m no psychic.”

Sighing, you rose from your seat, leaving Ghost once more in his own bubble.

You really didn’t want to, but you realized you were gonna have to ask from the source itself—König.

Now, you didn’t consider yourself a shy or anxious person, but there was something so imposing about König; maybe it was the fact he literally towers over you like some Goliath, or maybe it’s the fact he only speaks in raspy monosyllables, or, maybe, it was the fact that he just always stares at you, but you couldn’t deny the nervousness that writhed in the pit of your stomach.

But curiosity shined over it, because just why would he just stare?

So, you decided to head to the shooting field: it was an open secret that König often lurked there at night, shooting away at the targets from the day. No one really complained since he’d replace the targets with new ones at the end of every session.

The walk was short; just a quick turn through some halls and out through a door and you’re in the range.

König was some meters away, hunched over a stack of crates and a sniper under his arm. His back was to you.

You stepped on a stray stick just beside your foot. His head shot up.

He turned around in an instant, sniper tight in his hand.

They were right. He’s antsy.

“Hey, König.”

“...”

You slowly approached as though he were a frightful deer... but perhaps a cautious bear would be a more accurate descriptor. He could kill you in seconds.

Like anyone can. It doesn’t scare you.

Admittedly, it’s a little exciting.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“...yes.”

“Your eyes—uh, you stare. A lot.”

His gaze flickered away.

“Just wondering why you just... stare. I’m pretty sure we’ve never spoken, either—”

“We’ve spoken,” he cut in. Rough and light, as usual. “Mostly on missions though.”

“Oh... well, I’m just wondering if I pissed you off, somehow? Earned your ire? I’m dumb, I forget and I can be socially unaware—”

“No, no, no!” His eyes rounded, the sniper loosened in his hands. “No, you didn’t! I just, well...”

“...well?” You echoed, prompting him to continue.

He did.

“You’re nice to look at.”

Your brain froze.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, is that weird?—it is, isn’t it? I apologize, I—”

“No, wait, I’m really flattered, I just—” you laugh breathlessly. In disbelief. “That’s just really fucking flattering.” You can feel your face light up with heat, and all the neat composure you’ve built wash away completely.

Now, you’re reduced to a blushing schoolgirl at a complete loss for words.

What were you supposed to say? What does that even mean? Is that an admission of some crush, or were you just eye candy to him?—and did you like that, like his attention or are you just that deprived of contact?

You force your eyes to his, and you realize he’s hunched over, rubbing at the metal butt of his sniper with a thumb, eyes everywhere except on yours.

"So...” you rubbed your wrist. “What now?”

He finally looked at you. “Huh?”

You were this far already, you weren’t gonna back down yet. Even if your heart was slamming against your chest. “You just called me pretty? And I have a feeling you’re easy on the eyes too—maybe this is too quick—but wanna hang out then? Like, talk and stuff... because... I’m pretty?”

König stared for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “It would be an honor.”

“Then let’s hang out right now! Stay here, I’m gonna grab my sniper and we’re gonna shoot shit till bullets’re covering the ground!!”

König extended his sniper. “Use mine. I want to see how you shoot.” His eyes fluttered, gaze awkwardly averting yet again. You were beginning to find it endearing. “You’re a good shot. And I’d like to get better.”

“And watching me will help you?”

“Yes,” he said the word with earnest, eyes bright.

A crooked smile pulled at your lips. Fuck, you weren’t used to this.

But you liked it. You liked it a lot. You just hoped you could eventually make him feel the same.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#konig x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #könig x reader #modern warfare x reader

6K notes · View notes

kaicubus · 9 months

Text

My Number One Priority | Kokushibo

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : 18+ NSFW, cursing, brat taming!receiving, rough sex, p in v, fucking against a wall, built up tension, consumption of alcohol (but non-intoxicated sex), not established relationship, consensual sex, size difference, open area fucking, dirty talk, dacryphilia.

pairing ✩° : bodyguard!kokushibo x fem!reader, au not specified maybe modern idk...

premise ✩° : as your personal body guard, kokushibo is tasked with looking after everything you do to ensure your safety. you typically don’t take kindly to his overbearing nature, seeing as he’s just someone your dad hired, but kokushibo wants to change your mind about this whole protection thing to show you it’s really not all that bad.

word count ✩° : 5.7k

authors note ✩° : so. i’m back. with this. lol!

────────────────────────────────────────────

"Look! I don’t need you following me around all day! You’re not going to this club with me, you don’t wear anything besides that suit and I’m not letting you follow me around looking like you’re going to the next business conference! Besides, don’t you have something better to do?”

You breathe out a rough sigh and cross your arms with nothing but pure frustration clouding all judgment. For the past month or two, you’ve had your very own bodyguard, someone who follows you around, guards areas where you’re present, and doesn’t let you have a mind of your own. Of course you didn’t need one, but being related to one of the richest men where you live, your father keeps you on lock down where a body guard is needed. It annoyed you at first, and it annoys you now.

You have a reputation for always managing to uproot even the most stubborn of weeds that call themselves your protectors, usually playing tricks on them to get them fired or slip up enough times that your father makes sure they never work again, just because the feeling of a man—usually two times your size—lurking over your shoulder every waking second rubs you the wrong way. What makes it especially worse was that none of them had personality, they were all the same: quiet, uninterested, and far too uncomfortable with you to do anything risky.

Up until recently, it really hurt knowing the undeniable truth that your body guards were never going to be your friends or even get to know you—they were just mindless husks working with strings in their backs to do anything your father said. He was the one with money after all. You were just an associate to them.

That realization was the reason why you decided to burst all out on your father’s new hire, a man by the name Kokushibo. According to him, Kokushibo was the perfect fit for his lovely daughter, reserved, agile, and willing to stop at nothing to ensure your safety. But to you, Kokushibo was just like the rest, quiet, uninterested, and most likely just doing what he’s told. On his own, though, Kokushibo was tall, way taller than you, had long, layered hair with frosted red tips that stood out from his head of otherwise dark burgundy hair, and almost ghost white skin. His arms were strong, which your father made sure to comment on with a goofy gesture of flexing his own, elderly muscles, saying how they’re, “the best in the game,” and even pulled up Kokushibo’s pants to reveal his toned calves and rave at those too. When it happened, you lost your mind, screaming at your father at the invasion of privacy, but Kokushibo remained solemn and just let your father continue.

When you were introduced, all Kokushibo did was bow and make a promise of not letting you get out of his sight, and making sure you were his number one priority. What a load of shit.

So now, with your finger in his face, you buck up to your body guard and glare at him. Your silence means nothing to him, Kokushibo continues to stare at you as if he was watching paint dry, which easily irritated you more. “Kokushibo I am NOT letting you go with me.” Your answer remains the same. In your defense, you’ve been planning to go to a club with your friends all week. Getting dressed up and doing your makeup and attending a trashy club isn’t something that’s usually in your schedule, so when presented with the opportunity to take shots or even better, hook up with someone random, you eagerly accepted. The only issue now is the man standing behind you in your own bathroom, watching you poke the backs of gold hoops through your ears.

“I can wear something else if the suit is the issue.” Kokushibo says with his head tilted down, “I don’t only wear this. I know club attire isn’t proper like what I’m wearing.” He wanted to justify.

“Well, maybe you should wear something else for a change, maybe then I’ll see you as something other than a robot who follows me around. You’re like one of those cartoon characters who never changes their outfit because their show doesn't receive enough funding for more animation frames...or something.” You laugh to yourself and spin your head around in the mirror, checking all angles of how your earrings look, “Perfect!”

Kokushibo leans against the door frame and lets out a small grunt of displeasure, “I still think you should’ve worn the white dress.”

“And look like some runaway bride? Plus, I’m not trying to spill anything on imported silk. So. What, you don’t think the black looks cute on me?” You look over your shoulder and give your bodyguard a pouty look, poking fun at his question. Kokushibo shrugs and rolls his eyes, “I’m just glad you chose to cover up this time.”

Looking down at your outfit, you had to disagree with his passive aggressive remark. Whether you covered up or not was never dependent on how cute you looked. The long sleeve dress look was already so complimentary to your figure, hugging your hips and waist in all the right places, even enhancing certain assets which was a nice bonus. The only issue you had with the dress was with the length. Sure, you’d be going to a dimly lit club where no one would be able to tell if your dress rode up just a bit, but the struggle of constantly pulling it down to avoid that already made your head roll back in annoyance. Almost as if he’d read your mind, Kokushibo lets out a chuckle and makes his way behind you.

With only an inch or two separating you from each other, you swear you can hear your name leave his lips in sort of a desperate tone, yet it’s quiet and almost sort of whiny, leading you on to believe he really doesn't want you going. But who was he to stop you from having fun? You deserve it for putting up with him.

“Here,” You hold your hand out to your body guard, “Can you put this on for me? It’s got a little clasp, so try not to break it with your huge, killer hands please?” As much as you like to joke about things like that, Kokushibo knows all too well what he’s done to protect you with those same hands, now holding an expensive 14k gold plated choker, laying it across your collarbone. His pale, knobby fingers fidget for a second, releasing the clasps from each other, and wrapping it around your neck.

It was all you needed before you headed out to a night of fun and getting the perfect chance to turn heads and grab the attention that you lacked with anyone else around, mostly Kokushibo. But then again, you wanted to ignore the possible thought that you could ever wish your bodyguard to look at you in a way that no body guard is allowed to.

You turn back towards the mirror, ignoring the eyes that stared as you applied the expensive, creamy red lipstick onto your lips slowly. The color itself was a guaranteed rite of passage to any eyes in the club, especially accompanied by your dress and jewelry, and it only helped that it was a light wear and something that was easily smudge proof. That was, if anyone would want to kiss you tonight, no one would suspect anything when you came back home.

The sudden feeling of rough hands gliding down your waist jostles you from your thoughts, rustling the fabric hugging tightly against your skin just enough to expose your thigh to the curious thumb already poking in.

“Need I remind you, Y/n, I don’t need you getting into any trouble tonight.” Kokushibo’s husky voice speaks into your ear, “You know if I’m not there to watch you, someone could easily kidnap you and hold you for ransom, right?” His fingers massage lightly into your hips, signaling he means no harm with his sudden grab. Said sudden grab, however, ignites a swarm of butterflies inside of you, instantly flooding directly to your chest and stomach leaving you with no sensible thought when the words, “Don’t worry Kokushibo, I’ll be good. I promise.” leave your red stained lips in an exasperated tone.

Kokushibo smiles and lets go, although you wish he hadn’t. With that, you find your ride waiting for you outside, with one of your friends driving and the other in the passenger seat, leaving you to sit in the back with another friend. You were happy with the seating arrangement, because at least you weren’t going to be the designated sober friend and you could drink as much as you pleased.

When you arrive at the club, almost immediately you’re hit with all the feelings you were looking to get. Instantly, you’re rushed with trashy sounding music, boosted so everyone can hear the amount of bass in the song, the pounding of people jumping around and all of their voices quickly merging into one, big cloud of sound. Perfect.

Before you know it, you have a drink in your hand, and before you know what happens next, you’re holding an empty cup. Shot glass after shot glass, you throw your head back to take every small, yet effective amount of alcohol your friends willingly provide for your whole party. That is, until everyone starts to disperse, leaving you alone dancing by yourself in what seems to be a mosh pit of people doing the exact same. Loose arms and wobbly legs hit your own, bumping into you and occasionally pulling on your hair, to which you immediately receive a slurred, ‘sorry!’ after. Unlike everyone else though, you’re not as drunk as you’d like to be. After all, you could still see reasonably well and didn’t have to hold onto anything to walk, but another trip to the bar would fix that right away.

As you’re making your way out of the surplus of people, you finally break free and manage to catch your breath, only for a short while.

That’s when you make eye contact with him. He isn’t exactly someone who you can see clearly, not from far away at least. He is hidden in the darkness of the club, only being illuminated by the strobe lights occasionally flickering now and then with the beat drops of the loud music booming in your ears, wrapped with mystery and alluring temptation. Even by just looking at him, you can tell he’s well off. His long hair is tied back into a low ponytail and he’s wearing a white shirt only buttoned up halfway with his long sleeves rolled up just above his elbows, dark pants that are secured with a similarly dark colored belt that shines along with the light, and a silver Breguet watch that glistens when the light touches it.

He’s irresistible. So irresistible, you don’t deny your body when it starts moving on its own, taking a few steps closer towards the mystery man, swaying your hips with your own charm, still managing to be nonchalant and confident at the same time. It doesn’t take long before he eyes you again, a smirk spreading across his lips seeing you drift closer and closer to him until finally, you’re close enough to actually see his face.

The man turns away as soon as you’re standing right next to him though, much to your dismay. It isn’t until then do you find yourself at the edge of the other bar in the club, clearly the fancier kind seeing as there’s not that many people around than on the dance floor or mingling elsewhere. It’s just you and him.

You bite your lip and sit down, leaning into the counter and pressing your chest up against the cold surface, politely waving down the bartender who comes rushing to your aid as soon as he sees you. He takes down your order and toddles off to make it, pouring all the ingredients in and shaking your drink in his metal bottle. That’s when you take your chance and look at the guy again, tilting your head down.

The bartender hands you your drink and you easily gulp it down, not satisfied with the effects yet. So you ask for a few vodka shots in hopes to get to where you need to be, and thankfully it works. Now, with a good amount of alcohol in your system, you start to feel that estranged buzz jerking through your body, giving you the confidence you need to

With a few drinks down already, the electrifying buzz starts to come into effect, granting you more confidence that you thought you already had to tap the man’s shoulder. Despite your vision blurring, you lean against your palm and smile. “Hi~ It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/n-“

When he finally turns around, revealing his face, your blood runs cold. In sheer disbelief, you instantly lurch back. The sight sobers you up immediately.

“KOKUSHIBO?!” A hand flies to your mouth, “What the hell are you doing here?! Did you—did you follow me?”

Now you had wished you’d come to your senses earlier. From across the room, all you saw was a tall man with long hair and a drink in his hand, but there was a small—now loud—voice in your head that said you should’ve waited before sitting down next to him. You wanted to slam your head into the counter for being so reckless.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” Your bodyguard lets out a lowly chuckle and rests the bottom of his drink down onto the counter. “I knew you would get yourself into trouble so I had to come too, you know that. It’s also nice to prove that without my supervision, you’d walk up to anyone and—from what I can only assume—sleep with them. Am I right?” Although his eyes are dark, you can’t seem to ignore the very subtle, flirty tone in his voice. Almost as if he were teasing you.

“Don’t fuck with me! You followed me, Kokushibo. And it’s because you don’t trust me. I told you what was going to happen but I guess I just can’t be alone for one single fucking night!” You groan and hide your face with your hands, “I seriously thought you’d let me off the hook for just this once…”

Kokushibo’s eyes fixate on yours, “Don’t be like that, it’s my job, Y/n.”

“It’s not your job to make me feel suffocated, it’s your job to make me feel safe. And I do not feel safe knowing you’re watching my every move.” You fold your leg on top of the other and lean forward, pressing closer to him. As much as you hate him right now, you have to admit there’s something about his presence that makes you feel at ease, especially at a club of intoxicated and possibly dangerous people. Of course, Kokushibo takes note of it and hides his small grin.

“Y/n, it sounds like you feel safe with me,” Your bodyguard leans forward and touches your thigh delicately, “You don’t actually hate what I do, you’re just bad at telling me those things. Maybe, you even think this job of mine is something you tolerate?” Kokushibo’s voice is low and melodic. It draws you in nearly instantly, forcing you to nod as there seems to be no other choice to do. Kokushibo leans in closer and raises his brows slightly, eyes closing in onto yours and you refuse to look away. You always knew he was attractive, anyone could tell you that, but when did he become irresistible?

You gulp down some much needed air, staring at him with wide eyes and a trembling mouth, unable to form any words only hoping that your expression can tell him what you wanted to say. Those three words that would finally admit your feelings for him. But instead, you take a chance, and his leg in your own hands, quickly rushing to close the gap between his face.

In a flash, the space between your heads is removed and your lips catch his. Your mouth is cushioned by his thin, usually stoic smile, that quickly sears hot with what you can only assume is embarrassment. You can even feel a similar heat spread all over your face. But to your surprise, Kokushibo doesn’t pull away. The overwhelming sensations become too much to bear, however, so you pull away and gasp, ripping your lips from his.

Kokushibo blinks rapidly, almost dumbfounded at what you had just done, and looks at you with his finger curled over his lips in a flushed shock. The realization hits you like a truck that there was a small possibility that you misinterpreted a few signs along the way, that maybe now you fumbled so hard into Kokushibo that you weren’t ever going to be taken seriously ever again—or worse—ever going to see him again. You back away.

"Oh. Oh my God. Kokushibo, I am so. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to do that, I don’t even know what I was thinking I just—” You try and stammer to make sense of yourself, but even you don’t know what you want to say. Instead, you stare at Kokushibo in hopes he’d understand.

But he doesn’t say anything. There’s not even a transition between now and when Kokushibo pulls you back into his chest, now sitting you onto his waist. The world disappears just as soon as it appears, and you’re kissing him again. And again. And again. You feel him stand up and the way his hands snake around your hips to hold you up and notice how he even tugs down the sides of your dress so you don’t accidentally reveal anything he wouldn’t want anyone to see.

The walk, if you can even call it that, to a more private area is all a hazy blur. One second you open your eyes to see people dancing and the next, you’re against a wall in a busy hallway. No time is wasted since Kokushibo was doing all the work, all while handling your weight in its entirety with the sheer strength of his hips and slight hold of his arm up your back. The rest he does blindly.

When you open your eyes to catch a glimpse of his face, you realize that now you’re in a different hallway, one still as dark and hidden away as the rest, so no one can walk by and see you two. You crane your neck up to meet Kokushibo’s sultry, yellow eyes as he lets out a raspy groan.

“Fuck...Y/n,” You can tell he’s annoyed but holding back for your sake, “Why did you have to go and do that? I can’t...I can’t...why did you...dammit.” Kokushibo looks away to the side so you can only see the sharpness of his cutting jawline, checking his surroundings. It isn’t until now that you can see how red he is. His ears, his cheeks, his nose, his entire face, all glowing pink. Could it be?

“Kokushibo, did you like the kiss?” The question burns on your tongue.

He struggles to defend himself with a stern, “No. I can’t like it. So just, I’ll drive you back but you can’t ever talk about this.” That’s an order, you know all too well, but you continue to press him for answers. You know Kokushibo is strict, but you know he can’t resist you, and right now there’s a fire burning inside of you that you’ve never felt before, and you only want to make it burn more.

Lifting your leg, you flash a small grin up at Kokushibo who has a firm hand planted beside your head, guarding your face from anybody walking by. You do it slowly, but eventually, you start moving your dress so that his eyes draw to what you’re desperately trying to show him.

“You’re so mean and uptight, Kokushibo...always following the rules and making sure I don’t get into trouble,” You lift your leg more, exposing more of your skin past regions he shouldn’t be looking, “Kokushibo, I came here to feel seen for my body and have a little fun,” You peel your dress back and reveal a pair of dark, lacey panties that match your dress to a T, “Would it kill you to do the same?”

No, it would not.

Like a man possessed, Kokushibo hungrily catches your mouth with his and kisses you roughly. With the sudden collision, his teeth knock against yours but the pain quickly subsides as soon as you feel the softness of his tongue glide into your mouth. But his lips are soft, and so are his hands as they trace lines up the back of your neck to bend your head back, allowing for a better position for Kokushibo to kiss you deeper. You want to say something, but the words quickly fizz away as soon as Kokushibo starts to breathe heavier. Almost on instinct, you feel your body roll against his. That’s when you feel a hardness you know well growing inside of his pants, which only makes your movements a thousand times more heated.

Kokushibo groans into your mouth and cups the side of your face with his hand and breaks the kiss suddenly to gasp for air, which you do the same.

“Fuck, Y/n, what are we doing?” He whispers, panting hot air against the side of your sticky neck, “What are you doing? Have you always wanted to do this? Fuck your body guard? What does this say about you...”

You bite your lip and lower your gaze down to his belt, “This is payback for losing my trust. This,” you look in his eyes, “Is how you’re going to get it back.” You kiss him again, only this time harder, which catches him off guard but not for long.

From the very start, Kokushibo was holding back. Not anymore. Now, Kokushibo has no control. Watching you fall apart completely from just his touch sends shocks throughout his body, seeing each twitch, each spasm, each jerk, turns him into a stranger to himself. A deprived, starving stranger.

His own hands are the ones to rip your dress from the top clean down the middle, tearing the black fabric easily with a small tug as he unwraps you like you were a gift to him all along. Kokushibo’s careful with not tearing anything else, though. Once your body is free from the skin tight dress, Kokushibo stares at your chest and thighs, now fully exposed to him. You can’t help but feel a bit shy under his heated gaze, but he doesn’t give you a chance to hide away from him.

Kokushibo pulls his shirt off in a hurry, unbuttoning every button he had on and practically throws it off his burly shoulders, diving right back into your lips, meeting your mouth with a feverish, eager tongue. You can’t even think. You knew he was assertive, it’s in his nature, but you’d rarely think about what Kokushibo was like outside of working for you. Was he secretly kind? Did he go to school? What color was his favorite? Even with his mouth on yours, you realize that you don’t even know anything about him, but he knows practically everything about you.

He even had tabs on your internet history, which was something you always meant to bring up with him but never did. So, yeah, everything.

“Kokushibo-” You gasp out his name, feeling his hard, yet strangely smooth hand roll up your stomach, thumbs pressing into your skin as they search for all the weak points he knows you have.

Kokushibo stops for a moment to admire all of the exposed parts of your body. Even though he’s been around long enough to where you’d feel comfortable changing around him, Kokushibo never had the chance to fully look at your torso. Doing so was sinful in his mind before, but now it hardly mattered what he was looking at. It’s the fact that you make his thoughts run rampant, screaming at him to do anything to mark up your untainted and pure skin.

“Please don’t make me ask for you to touch me...I give you full permission to do whatever you want to me, just don’t make me wait, Kokushibo.” Your arms swing around his neck, “I really just need you to touch me.”

Thankfully, Kokushibo obliges. With a soft hand, he finds the bottom of your thigh and starts rubbing, searching for the waistline of your underwear, all while smirking down at you. “You don’t have to beg, Y/n, I thought we knew I do things based on what I see fit. And I see desperation,” Kokushibo pants, “Yearning,” he grins, “And lust.”

For a moment, your eyes flash down to see your bodyguard’s hands pulling his belt loose from his waist, unbuckling the sterling silver latch and loosening his pants enough to reveal what was so hard against you earlier. You shiver at the sight of it. You always knew Kokushibo was big, that’s the whole reason why he was chosen for the job. If he was big enough for himself, he’d be big enough to protect you. Nothing about him was small. He had big hands, big hair, a big ego, and now that you find it out, even his dick was big. But that was to be expected.

What you didn’t expect, however, was how miserable it looked not being inside of you. Despite its length and girth, Kokushibo’s member was neat and clean, with thick veins running down the sides and a slightly red tip with just the slightest amount of cum leaking from the head, slicking over it and making it appear shiny under you. Looking at it, your body jerks and you look up at Kokushibo, who’s just staring down at his length with half a breath in his chest.

“I am desperate, Kokushibo.” Your legs tremble as your hand trails down between your legs, careful not to touch Kokushibo’s cock, and pull back your panties to the side, revealing your equally aching pussy to him. Just as you thought, you were soaked. Soaked even could be an understatement. Your pussy was dripping with slick pooling from all of the kissing, all the comments, and the sight of your ‘scary’ bodyguard now so horribly drunk in love. “But you didn’t pay attention to me, so what was I supposed to do? Wait?” You slide your fingers in between your cunt and start rubbing into your heat slowly.

Kokushibo pants louder, “Fuck...”

“Come on, Kokushibo, you know me. Do I like to wait?” You keep rubbing. Despite the sounds around you, all you both can hear are the wet, sloppy sounds echoing, making it impossible to ignore it.

He shakes his head silently, thinking that would be a satisfactory smile, and keeps his eyes on your hand.

“Do I?” You let your jaw hang open and that’s when he finally understands.

“No, you don’t.” Huskily, he says.

Everything was silent now.

With that, Kokushibo doesn’t allow you any chance to process when your hand is ripped from your slit and replaced by the head of Kokushibo’s twitching member pushing against you. He doesn’t give you time to move or adjust, as you don’t like waiting, Kokushibo adheres to that wish and enters your needy pussy. The darkness had actually hid his length relatively well, so it seemed like you could take him easily, but what you learned was that you couldn’t, and he was far too big to slam into you right away. Tears prick your eyes as your nails hungrily bite into his back, mouth hanging open and chanting his name like a prayer to not die right then and there.

“Kokushibo! W-Wait! FUCK!” You cry out. Anyone that heard you was their fault at this point, you didn’t care, you had to make noise. “Kokushibo!”

Your bodyguard ignores your pleas and thrusts inside of you again and again, slamming deep inside of you with your pussy drooling all over his stiff cock. Your cunt starts to throb almost instantly now that he’s all the way in, but it still tries to reject his size and slowly starts to push him out, but Kokushibo grabs your hips and forces your pussy to swallow him whole. You continue to cry out at the pain, wishing he’d at least take you gently, but Kokushibo was anything but gentle.

Going along with the rhythm of your gasps and shrills, Kokushibo fucks your walls unapologetically, muttering as best as he could into your ears while trying to catch his breath himself. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/n. Fuck, you like that? Keep your eyes on me. Make as much noise as you want, I want to hear it. I want to hear how badly you wanted to fuck me, your body guard.” His voice was growing thicker by the second to the point it sounded like it was coming straight from his gut. It doesn't even matter, nothing matters but feeling Kokushibo quickening his speed and deepening his cock into your core.

You cling onto his back and arch your back, pressing your body against him. You want to say something to him, but the words don't come out. How can they? How can you even form a single thought when Kokushibo is rocking into you with all of his pent up tension running inside of his body, only slowing down when you cry louder, but even then he has the chance to speed up and takes it a few times.

Almost as if you thought you’d never get used to it, the pain subsides to a more enjoyable pain that makes your eyes roll back with pleasure. Now you were able to focus. Now, you could feel the way Kokushibo cupped your ass in his hands, how tightly he held you, and how your stomach fluttered every time he rolled his hips into yours. You grasp onto the roots of his burgundy frosted hair and latch onto his lips hungrily, to which he gladly accepts and kisses you back twice as hard.

“You always go too far, and you don't expect me to go all out? How is that fair, Y/n?” He thrusts harder with each word, groaning into your open mouth as your walls clamp around his dick, gasping his name. You can feel his cock sink inside of you deeper, twitching inside of you every chance it gets, making it hard to ignore the growing, twisting feeling inside of your stomach that starts to swirl into knots and very quickly starts to unravel. You knew what was going to happen next, and by the way Kokushibo squeezed your body closer to his, you can tell he was close too. Fucking your bodyguard was something you'd always hoped would happen, but you didn't know it would come sooner than later. Beads of sweat start to form on Kokushibo’s face and arms as he huffs more onto your well damp skin, just trying not to lose composure before you do.

“K-Kokushibo…I-I can't, I need to,” You cry out and claw into his back again, “Y-You're not being fair to me! How can you! MGH!” He cuts you off by placing his mouth on yours before abruptly pulling away.

“Y/n, shh.” He hushes you and kisses you again, closing his eyes tightly, “Fuck, fuck why do you feel so good. I shouldn't enjoy this as much as I am…and yet…What did you do to me?” His cock pumps inside of you more sloppily now, dipping into your core. All he can hear are your breathy moans and the way his dick messily slaps into your hips. It drives him wild.

“I’m gonna cum,” You murmured into his ear, “Kokushibo I’m sorry, I'm sorry for everything and treating you like shit and ignoring you and getting mad at you. Please please please! I'm gonna cum!”

Kokushibo returns to silence and doesn't let up, keeping his pace quick, deep, and efficient. The steadiness of his thrusts builds up until finally, your walls tighten all around him more than they ever had before, which was all Kokushibo needed to finally release. You tip your head back and so does Kokushibo as you both simultaneously stop moving all together, gasping and twitching feeling Kokushibo’s load burst inside of your sore cunt. For what feels like forever, your bodyguard’s cock pulsates, leaping while still being stuffed inside, spurting his warm, gooey, white liquid against your walls and filling you up to the point where you can feel a good amount leak outside down your legs. You tremble and pick your head back up with your chest heaving, looking at Kokushibo as he looks just as tired as you, if not more dazed.

“Hah…hah…oh my God…” You pant, leaning against him with a soft smile across your face. It didn't matter if either of you smelled like sex, or looked as though you'd just ran miles, Kokushibo looks back at you with an equally satisfied grin, but he doesn't speak, clearly too concentrated on the aftershock of fucking his assignment as hard as he possibly could. You couldn't stand or feel your legs, but again, that didn't matter.

His eyes fixate on your legs and soon enough, he gently moves himself so that you're no longer attached to him, noticing the way his cock springs free and is still throbbing, wet with slick and cum leaking from the tip. Kokushibo glances at you and swallows.

“We should head home, Y/n, you've caused enough trouble here.” He lets out a sigh and stuffs his dick back into his pants, jumping a bit to fully dress himself back up. Without being asked, Kokushibo fixes your panties and hides your body as best as he can, and picks you up in his arms so that your body isn't exposed. “I'll walk you back. No need for a car, I don't need anyone else seeing you like this.”

#kaicubus #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanficiton #kokushibo #kokushibo kny #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x y/n #kokushibo smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #smut fanfiction #smut

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

Text

wait for me | lee jeno

title: wait for me

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), facef*cking, praise kink, minor degradation (more like teasing), (consensual) filming for one scene, pet names (princess, baby/babe, honey, good girl, silly girl, etc), mentions of p*rn, loss of virginity (it’s a social construct but you get the point), soft dom!jeno, innocent!reader, romantic but rough at times, a bit of aftercare

summary: jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him

wc: 6.195k

a/n: I take my time with things, but if I promise something, I will do it, so here’s a gift for my precious @everloving-avenue ♡ it took almost a year but the sequel to this drabble is here! you don’t have to read the first part to understand. the style is a bit different from the drabble because I do write in a different way, so I don’t know how it will flow if you read one right after the other, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. I missed writing just good old smut with no plot. Same thing as the original drabble; I don’t think I’m the best when it comes to writing first times, so I hope this doesn’t suck completely. ps: missed writing about Jeno ♡

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck | send an ask if you want to be added (i hope i didn't forget anyone cause i didn't use a tag, but from now on i will so i'll have everyone in the same place)

“Can you take it all, pretty girl?” Jeno never looked more intimidating than he does now, looking down at you while you’re on your knees, trying to keep your gaze locked in his and don’t divert it, too embarrassed and distracted by his big, hard dick standing so close to your face.

You gulp, humming lowly and moving closer to the head of his cock, your lips brushing against it, making him laugh tenderly.

“We can wait if you’re not ready,” he says, the husky tone of his voice sends shivers down your back, and even if he has been nothing but nice and respectful to you, your brain can only focus on the sexiness of it.

“No, I...” you hesitate, lowering your head as you suddenly feel shy, “… I don’t know what to do.” Since you called him that night, you had been more daring, but Jeno always focused on you, and the bravest thing you’ve done to him was a handjob. This feels like such a big step, and you’re terrified you’ll let him down, no matter how much he has been reassuring you.

A smile curls his lips, but it’s more of a grin as he bends over and lifts your chin up. “I’m here to teach you, am I right?”

You feel your throat close for a moment as you bravely meet his eyes, you can see he’s holding back, and that makes a fire ignite in you. You’d even let him be rough with you — at least that’s what you saw while lurking on… those sites — but you don’t feel like pushing your luck. So you nod, swinging your ass on your heels as your knees rub against the carpet to move closer to him again.

“Good girl,” he coos, kissing you quickly before standing up like before. “Open up,” Jeno orders, this time holding the base of his dick as he prods the tip against your lips.

You do as he says, tongue coming out of your mouth as you try to remember what you saw in a few videos.

Jeno smiles, teasing his length on it, watching as you try so hard to don’t look away. He thinks you’re really cute, really fucking cute, to be honest. There’s a bit of fear and a lot of eagerness in your eyes, and after months, he can’t hold back anymore. His free hand reaches for your cheek as he slowly starts pushing in, whispering to you to be careful to don’t bite and keep your mouth wide open, until he’s halfway in.

You flinch, eyes squeezing as you feel the flow of air already dim in your lungs, hands immediately finding his thighs to hold onto something.

Jeno snickers, pulling out and shaking his head. “Silly girl, you have to breathe, that’s like the most important part.”

You feel like he’s testing the ground, being bolder in the way he talks to you during these moments, and you have no idea why, but you find it hotter than you imagined you ever would. Your thighs clench as you feel your pussy throb just at the way he had called you a silly girl.

“Through your nose, darling. You got it?” Something about the way he’s so condescending makes you dizzy and answer him right away, eyes fluttering as you nod and part your lips again, this time not set for failure.

He pushes into your mouth again, it’s slow and he grunts as he slides in, feeling your warm, wet mouth wrap around him.

You gag on it when the tip reaches the back of your throat, but Jeno’s ready to calm you down.

“Breathe deeply, babe,” he says, voice dropped by an octave as his thumb caresses the portion of your skin between your jaw and neck. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you feel a heavy weight being lifted from your back. Jeno feels it in the way your throat relaxes and how your cheeks suck him in.

If only he didn’t wait so long, he would stay still for a bit more, but now that he has you like this, he can’t control himself. “Can you suck?” He asks, voice shaking.

“I guess,” you mumble before pulling away to take a deep breath. “You want me to move on it?”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I fear I won’t be so gentle if I do all the job.”

You quirk a brow, tilting your head as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just remember what I said, breathe through your nose, and you’ll be fine.”

You’re not happy with the way he dismissed your question, but you ignore it anyway, taking his cock in your mouth another time. You close your eyes to concentrate more and you start to suck, bobbing your head slowly at first, until you find a rhythm he seems to like, and it’s not too much for you.

It feels weird, yet, every time you feel like you’re doing something wrong — like when the lewd sounds of your mouth get louder when it hits too deep, or when your nails sink in his thighs hard, or when spit drools from your chin — Jeno only moans louder and the hold of his hand in your hair tightens.

“Good girl,” he praises, and when you open your eyes, you see his head reclined, lips parted and eyelids sitting on his beautiful cheeks. “Taking my dick so well.”

Your body burns up at his word, a mix of feelings you can’t explain getting to your brain, but you keep trying to do your best to work on him. Until something pops in your mind. You pull away, mostly to take your breath, but your hand immediately reaches his base to pump up and down.

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he even manages to muffle the groan of disappointment he let out when your lips left him. He knows you need breaks, but he still doesn’t quite expect what you do next. The combo mouth-hand was not on his bingo today and he can’t believe you’re doing it. It takes you a while to find a rhythm — he finds it adorable how uncoordinated you are — but when you do… fuck, when you do.

You’re moving slower than Jeno would go crazy for, but he likes it anyway. You’re trying your best, brows knitted in concentration, mouth and hand working together, and soft moans vibrating around him. Just the view is enough to push him closer to the edge, especially when you seem to relax completely.

“Stay focused,” he calls you out, fearing you might stop doing the most important thing again; breathe. “Don’t get too lost, princess.”

You hum, voice muffling around his length hitting deep in your throat while you open your eyes to look at him. His jaw is tense, and he’s breathing deeply through his nose, the veins of his arms are so visible, propping on his skin as his hand is closed in a fist. He’s trying not to look down at you, you won’t know it, but you look too hot right now, and if only his eyes move down, he would start fucking your face.

But you can’t take it. It’s your first time, and he has to be gentle. He can’t act like an animal without self-control, because he is not, right?

Yet the more you softly moan, and gag and suck him, hollowing your cheeks while your hand shily works on the base and his balls, the harder it gets.

When he practically growls, you pull back, terrified you did something wrong, unaware eyes looking into his.

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I — I was careful with my teeth, I’m sure I wasn’t —”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he shuts you up with his thumb on your lips, now plumper and red with spit dripping from a corner down to your chin. “You did nothing wrong,” his breath is ragged and his pupils are dilated, his chest is heaving quickly while his hair is starting to wet around the crown of his forehead. “You’re being good, baby, too good.”

You blink, confusingly staring at him. “Too good? How can I be too good?”

Jeno sighs, caressing your cheeks, wetting them with the spit that stuck to his thumb. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you look right now, don’t you?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head as you keep looking up. Feeling oh so small.

A smirk paints his face. “Should I show you?” He asks, but you don’t get it until he grabs the phone from the nightstand and shakes it in his hand.

“Oh, that,” you gasp, feeling your throat go dry.

“Only if you want, of course,” he reassures, sensing your hesitation.

“I — it’s fine. If it stays on your phone, it’s fine,” you say, feeling yourself get wetter at the thought of him taking a picture of you at such a moment. It’s also curiosity. Are you really that good? Do you look as pretty as the girls in those videos? You doubt that, even if they look like a mess they’re always so pretty, but you? Maybe Jeno is just being nice because it’s you.

“Of course, princess. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you like this.” And also, for all the times he is going to have you in that position, he would even delete it once you are done, if you prefer it.

You nod, shifting in your place because you don’t know what to do, should you pose? Should you take it in your mouth again? But Jeno answers your questions when he grips your chin and forces your head up, you’re not as messed up as he wishes you were, but this will do. “Smile for me,” he says and you do, feeling awkward. You’d like to disappear if only you couldn’t see his cock throb in your peripherical view, he wants you so much.

So, as soon as the phone moves away with praises coming out of his mouth, you lean in, taking it inside again.

“Fuck,” Jeno curses, clutching the phone in his hand, struggling to show you the picture of you. “Let me fuck your face,” he pleads, words followed by ragged moans, “you can tap my thigh if it gets too much but — fuck — let me try.”

You pull away, trying to follow him, but even if you are doing something to him, your brain is already lost in the pleasure, and the fact you have pretty much no idea what he’s talking about doesn’t help. “Like in the videos?”

“I won’t be that harsh, I promise,” and even if pleasure is running in his body, you can hear the honesty in his voice.

“O — okay, but…” you drift your gaze away, “can you film us? So I can see after?”

A deep groan reverberates in his chest, followed by a low suck of air. He can’t believe this is real, that you are real. So innocent and pure, asking for such things. But he’s more than happy you are the one proposing stuff to him. “Yeah, fuck, yes.”

You shouldn’t feel like this just hearing his voice and moan, but you do, and the way your panties are sticking to your pussy is getting unbearable, you can’t wait to have him down there, so you part your lips, and wait for him to take the invitation.

Jeno doesn’t waste a second more, shoving himself down your throat, stopping to give you time to adjust to the rough intrusion of his girth before he starts moving his hips against your face.

At first, it feels weird, you have no control, and the pace is faster than yours, but you try to remember what he said before; you focus on your breathing and the sweet sounds coming from his mouth. Mostly because the ones coming from yours are too dirty for you to bear with.

“Fuck, babe, just like this,” he praises, one hand holding up the phone and the other caressing your cheek, trying to give you something soothing while he moves with force, it’s not too strong, surely not like one video you accidentally watched — and closed right away because it was way too much. This feels like a great compromise between your slower pace from before and the facefucking.

“My pretty baby, taking me so well,” Jeno moans, smiling at you when he sees a glint of a smile in your eyes. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

You try to answer him non-verbally, but the way he’s thrusting into you doesn’t give your head any room for movement. He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. “Don’t believe me when I call you beautiful when we go out on dates, don’t believe me when I whisper it to you in the morning, and not even now? Do I really have to show you?”

You feel like choking, but not on his dick. It’s because of his voice, his words, and the tone he’s using. Your breath falters more when he turns the phone to you, the video playing what you were doing just a few moments ago. You should think it’s weird, humiliating even, but you don’t. It’s turning you on even more, and you do look pretty like he says.

“See how beautiful you are even like this?” His voice is heavy, reaching deep into your core, making your pussy clench around nothing and drool out more excitement. “Your glossy eyes, your pretty lips stretched open just for me. Do you believe me now, princess?”

You nod, nails digging into his thigh because the video and him are deconcentrating you and you fail to do the most important thing; breathe. You gasp when he pulls out, a thread of spit connects your lips with the tip of his cock as you sputter, trying to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, throwing the phone on the bed and staring at you with a concerned look on your face. “You know you should stop before reaching your limit?”

“I know,” you cry out, cleaning your chin before lifting your gaze at him. “I was doing fine, but I… I forgot how to breathe.”

Jeno snickers, caressing your lips with his thumb, smearing the mess on your chin another time. “You forgot how to breathe, baby? Didn’t fuck you yet, and you’re already my dumb baby?” He’s clearly testing the waters another time, you discussed these things a lot, but Jeno knows that videos and stories on the internet are a completely different thing from reality and he’s not so confident everything you think turns you on will actually turn you on. But apparently dirty talking, a mix between a lot of praises and just a hint of degradation, turns you on for real. He watches your thighs clench and your boobs rise while a choked moan leaves your lips.

He smiles, or better, grins, tapping your face with his cock. “Will you let me fuck your mouth until I come, silly girl? Should we see just how dumb you get on me?”

You nod eagerly, moving even closer with your knees, sure by now you were going to have marks of that night tomorrow. But not even the discomfort can stop you from letting him have his way with you.

You moan louder when he pushes inside you this time, hands reaching his thighs for support while he starts moving quickly in and out, groans falling copiously from his tongue, balls slapping against your chin, and strong grip on the side of your face.

You can’t take it anymore and you start rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a tiny bit of relief as his moans progressively get lower, aggressive and messier. He always tries to hold back but you’re loving this side of him.

“Where — fuck — where do you want me to come?” He asks, slowing down a bit, only now realizing you’re wearing your favourite tank top and he doesn’t want to ruin your clothes, but were you ready for the whole thing? “Shirt?” When you shake your head he tries to think of something else, but the only option is not much better. “Floor?” But you shake your head again, and there’s only one thing left, “mouth?” You nod, eyes beaming, and he loses it. “Fuck,” he groans, hips stilling against your face as the orgasm hits him, making him empty inside of you. He drags out to don’t make you choke on his cum and then pulls away, still shuddering and moaning, expecting you to spit, having decided to play with fire and surely regretting it, but you don’t. Your face is contorted in an expression he can’t read, but you swallow everything, and then look up at him with innocent eyes.

“Was I good?”

“Fuck, honey, yes,” he says, lifting you up by wrapping an arm around your waist, making you lay on the bed. “So good,” he praises.

You smile but feel shy once again when he doesn’t start anything more. You’re aching, and you want him. Everything. His mouth and fingers are not enough anymore, you need him now.

“Jeno,” you moan. “Please.”

“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, no, princess, I want to hear you. Use your big girl words,” he orders.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe out, barely holding eye contact with him.

He smiles victoriously, feeling his dick harden again just from hearing your voice say those filthy words. “Are you sure?” He checks in, quirking a brow.

You hum. “I’m dripping,” you whisper, feeling too conscious about the mess between your legs. “I’m ready.”

Jeno tried to postpone this as much as he could, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted to wait for you and respect your time. He knows you tend to jump into things head first, but after a brief look at you, he knows this time isn’t the case. Since the daring call, you two experimented a lot, so this was the right moment to give you everything.

“Stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable, alright?”

You nod, silently watching as he adjusts between your legs, pulling down your stained panties before throwing them to the side. You don’t expect his lips to leave kisses on your thighs, quite frankly you feel more eager than usual to get what you wanted right away, but it’s clear he has other plans.

You still shy away every time he’s between your legs, feeling too conscious about how intimate you two are being. And it makes you even more dizzy when Jeno breathes in deeply before sucking on your clit.

“Jeno,” you cry out, covering your face with your hands.

“What, baby? How many times do I have to tell you not to cover yourself?” He scolds, eyes staring at you from between your legs. “Move your hands away or I’ll leave.”

You barely give him time to finish that your hands are sitting at the sides of your body, and your hips are bucking up, inviting him to take care of you.

“Eager baby,” he whispers before spreading your thighs wider, sinking down to lick your wetness. “Taste so good, princess.”

“It’s weird,” you mumble, you truly can’t get what he finds so hot about it, and how good you taste.

Jeno clicks his tongue, groaning in disappointment. “You don’t have to taste it,” he says, giving another harsh suck to your clit that makes your thighs shudder, “it’s all for me, and I love it.”

Your head rolls back when he starts moving his tongue on you as soon as he’s done with his words. He’s neat, like his usual, sucking and licking until he has you shaking underneath him. But usually — the four times you’ve done this before — you just lay there. This time your fingers find their way in his hair, tangling in it as you push him closer.

“Fuck, babe,” he moans, voice muffled against your body. “I’m not going anywhere,” he giggles and the vibrations push your brain in a spiral while your head rolls back.

You bite down a high-pitched moan when he pushes two fingers inside you after collecting your arousal and his spit. If you want to take him — and you do — he has to get you ready for the big thing —literally. So he sucks on your clit and pumps in and out of you faster, scissoring his two digits every now and then to stretch you out more.

“So welcoming, angel,” he hums, pulling away from your clit with a loud pop, “do you want me that much?” You must be particularly turned on because his fingers slide into you with ease, more than the other times when it took him a while to get you accommodated to the intrusion.

“Yeah, I…” your words die in your mouth as you stare at the ceiling, feeling so, so close to the high. It’s a feeling you know quite well now, but it still catches you by surprise every time. And you fear you will never get used to any of this, not anytime soon, at least.

“You?” He coos. “You want my cock in you? Want to finally know what it feels like to be fucked nice and deep?”

You want the mattress to eat you as he speaks those words, but your body reacts in a completely different way, burning up as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless against the bed.

Jeno pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean when he’s sure your watching. “Tastes so good, no matter what you say, baby.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your body buzz in ecstasy.

“Come here,” he says, leaning in, lips to lips, “taste yourself on me.” You kiss him with no hesitation, not because you’re eager to taste your cum, but because you want to feel him as close as you can.

“Jeno, please,” you beg, cupping his face before pulling him into another kiss. “I need you.”

“I know you do,” he says, softly caressing your side. “Can you take it, though?”

You nod swiftly, hips desperately grinding against him, feeling his cock against your skin. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

Jeno smiles softly, finding it so cute how you still worry about him when you should focus on yourself. He kisses you while his right hand is busy rummaging in the stand next to the bed to find lube.

“But I’m wet,” you complain when you realize what he’s doing, feeling a bit guilty because maybe it’s still not enough.

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, kissing your body as he slowly stands on his knees and positions you better on the bed. “But I’m big, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You purse your lips in a thin line, trying to don’t overthink this, but Jeno gets something is wrong.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of help. Also, lube can make things funnier, so why are you sulking?”

“I’m not, I just — I want to be good like the girls you had be—”

“No comparing, you are you, and I love you,” he stops you before you can finish, opening the bottle of lubricant but still waiting for your full consent. “Just trust me on this, alright?”

“Yeah, I trust you,” you breathe out, voice shaking, and as you stare as he pours the cold liquid on his hard dick you realize this might be the smartest choice. Also, you have to remind yourself that porn is fake, and probably not even as funny as they make it out to be, so why would you want to ruin the fun with your boyfriend just to copy it?

“For anything, even if it’s just discomfort, stop me, alright?”

You nod, feeling your nerves out of your skin, but Jeno wants you down on earth with him, and he needs to hear your voice. “Honey? What do you do if something’s wrong?”

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you and even a bit more to answer. “I tell you,” you stutter, searching for his eyes because this is getting real and all your confidence is falling apart.

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you on the lips.

When the tip of his cock presses against your entrance you know for sure using lube was the best idea he ever had in his entire life. Your jaw slacks, hands immediately reaching his back to sink in the skin of his shoulders as your chest rises heavily.

“Honey, you’re too tense,” he says, pulling away.

“No, I’m not,” you cry out, trying to push him in by locking your legs around his waist but he’s stronger than you and doesn’t let you do the dumbest thing you could ever do.

“We don’t have to do it, you know right?”

“But I want to,” you whine. “It’s just… big.”

“Then we can wait.”

“No, just… ease the tip in and then sink slowly,” you breathe out.

“But you need to relax,” he says. “Let me do something.” It’s not what you expect him to do, but when his lips start leaving soft pecks on your skin, you can only relax under his attention. “That’s it, princess, loosen up,” he whispers against your neck, trailing down to kiss your chest, noting you’re still dressed in your camisole and he has to move it to have access to your skin. “Can I lift this off? Want to feel you close to me.”

You hum, nodding your head in small movements as you try to relax your muscles. He quickly takes it off of you before going back to your skin, kissing and sucking, until goosebumps pervade you, distracting you while the fat head of his cock presses against your slit and you barely even notice.

Jeno hums when he quickly glances up and you’re too lost in pleasure to tighten up around him, but he doesn’t push further in. “Good girl. Here,” he says, searching for your hand on the mattress, “hold my hand.”

You do as he says, parting your legs when you realize he’s back where he was before, barely inside. “More, please,” you implore, meeting his eyes that turn into half-moons for a brief moment as he smiles back at you.

He doesn’t ask more questions, afraid of tensing you up again, and pushes past your entrance.

“Mhh,” you bite back, forcefully trapping your lower lips between your teeth to don’t let out weird sounds.

Jeno stares at you, trying to study your body as he keeps moving, soothing circles on your waist. He’s barely halfway in and he’s not sure about what to do.

“It’s… it’s weird,” you mumble, feeling shy when you two make eye contact.

“Bad weird or good weird?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not bad, it doesn’t hurt,” you reassure him. “You can push in, I’m relaxed.”

You are, your shoulders are not tensed and your legs are parted on your own, your breath is also much more regular than before. So he does, he slowly buttons in, taking your breath away.

You gasp, head rolling back as you feel full like never before.

Jeno wants to back away when you start… laughing. “Are you okay?”

You nod swiftly, “Yeah,” you smile. “It’s… I… I don’t know how to explain this,” you try to reason but truly there’s nothing rational about this. It’s the surprise because you can’t believe it happened and it’s the way it feels as your pussy automatically clenches around him. “I think you can fuck me,” you say, feeling the shame disappear.

“I can take more time for you to adj—”

“I’m dripping and I’m ready for you, it doesn’t hurt,” you say, cupping his chin. “I’ve panicked about this moment enough, I know what I’m letting you doing.” You truly did, reading around way too much about what the first time felt like, knowing it wasn’t supposed to hurt or bleed like society said, and trusting him enough to do this.

Jeno fights a chuckle to don’t ruin this completely and starts moving in and out of you. Studying your face with every move, his thrusts are slow at first, not only because he doesn’t want to push you too far, but also because he wants to see your reaction and feel you. Your eyes are closed while your lips are parted to let out the softest whimpers and moans, one hand is still holding his tight while the other is on his shoulder to hold onto him.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing you passionately, starting to pick up a rhythm when you don’t squirm away but your hips roll against his instead. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” you cry out, “so good.”

“Yeah? Told you it would feel good,” he groans, hips dragging in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’d love to go faster, but he doesn’t want to hurt you or turn this into a bad experience. He wants to take it slow, and make you feel loved. “Better than those stupid videos you watch. You don’t need them to learn, they’re bullshit anyway, you have me.”

You groan, trying to hide away as you remember how he had caught you more than once as you tried to learn how to get better at this, no matter how many times he had told you he was there to guide you. “I will — I will disappoint you,” you cry out.

“Yeah, are you sure?” He hums, kissing you briefly, hitting harder inside you, making you whimper a broken moan. “Then if you’re so afraid you’ll — fuck — disappoint me, it means I’ll have to fuck you more, ugh, how’s that sound?”

You try to come up with words that make sense, but you hardly can breathe. It feels too much, lost in what’s happening now, and what is yet to happen. The idea he won’t hold back anymore, that at any chance he will try to make you feel good, and you will do too, sending your brain in a spiral.

“Oh, imagining it already, nasty baby? One taste and you’re already addicted to this?” Jeno mocks playfully, cooing in your ear, sending waves of electricity down your spine. “Next time I won’t fuck you nice and slow on the bed, no,” he chuckles, brushing away the hair that is sticking to your sweating forehead. “I’ll get a bit rougher with you, do you want that?”

You barely wait for him to finish the sentence and you’re already nodding, gripping harder on his shoulders, nails sinking in his skin, as you already savour the moment. “On the desk,” you utter shyly, slowly parting your eyes to meet his, dark and intense, piercing into your soul.

He snickers, dick throbbing inside of you because he can’t wait to slowly discover all the little things you secretly fantasize about, he wants to watch your innocence fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he wants to be the one tearing it apart. He wants you to trust him enough to let him inside all your darkest and deepest secrets.

“You want to be fucked on the desk?” He taunts, lightly slapping your ass, drawing a louder moan from you. “Yeah? Want to be bent over my desk?”

You nod swiftly, trapping your tongue between your teeth as the intense feeling starts growing more and more in your stomach. “Wa-want you to pull my hair.” You’re not even sure you will like it, but you feel like everything is worth a shot with Jeno, you trust him, and you know he will respect you if you won’t like something. Even harsher things that scare you a bit, they don’t look so scary with him.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, rolling his head back, beads of sweat pearling his forehead. “You’ll kill me,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he tries to don’t sound too raw with his moans, but it’s hard when your pussy is gripping him so tight, your face is rolled back in bliss, your boobs are bouncing with his every move, and dirty words are coming out of your mouth. He’s not used to this and your curses, it’s used to your avoiding gazes and your small imprecations that are not curse words.

You’re not used to this either. It’s like you opened the door to a new world and you don’t quite know how to move in it. There are endless possibilities, and you’d love to grasp them all now, but you can’t. You fear you can barely face what’s coming right now.

“Weird,” you breathe out, chest heaving quicker as Jeno’s thrusts get faster and the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. “Too much.”

“It’s not too much, princess. You can take it,” he says, kissing your cheeks.

“No, it’s — it’s,” you choke on your words ‘cause you can’t quite explain how you’re feeling right now.

Jeno kisses your lips again, it’s messier than before, and in the tangle of it, he asks if you want him to stop, but you don’t, and you almost scream a negative answer. “Please, no, don’t stop. I just — I feel like — I…”

“It’s stronger than the other times?” He finishes for you, at least that’s what he can get from the way your body is squirming under him and how much cum is coating his dick.

You nod, squeezing your eyes hard and opening your mouth to let as much air possible inside of your lungs. “It’s good, it’s so good, but I… I can’t take it.”

“You can, honey, you can,” he whispers, soothing you with circles on your hip. “Breathe deeply, like before.”

You’d love to curse at him because how can you focus on your breathing during this specific moment? It’s impossible, and you don’t even want to. You like the way you feel upside down, it’s chaotic but good, and you don’t want it to stop.

You pull him closer, kissing him harder, running your fingers through his hair to stop torturing his poor shoulders. “Want you, please.”

“I’m here,” he hums. “Come with me?”

You nod in a non-verbal reply, trying to don’t get overwhelmed by the feeling but it’s difficult, especially when his hand reaches for your clit and starts playing with it, and his moans get louder and messier. He sounds so hot, and that’s the last thing you need to let your pleasure invade you.

“Jeno,” you scream his name, arching your back off the bed as pleasure runs through your body and soon after the same happens to him, filling you with his cum as he lazily pumps in and out to ride your orgasms.

“Fuck,” he curses, letting his forehead fall on yours, pushing your legs closer to your chest before his movements come to a stop, and he feels like collapsing on top of you. He doesn’t, he keeps his body up with his elbows as he leaves pecks on your face.

“Are you alright, love?” Jeno asks after a few seconds and you can only nod, still short of breath. He leaves one more kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you sigh at the loss of contact when he rolls to the side and jumps out of bed. “Stay right there,” he says before walking out of the room.

“As if I can walk,” you giggle in a whisper, feeling your legs wobbly and your heart exploding out of your ribcage. You’re still lost in that daydream when Jeno comes up and starts to clean you up, doing his best to don’t overstimulate you — he’s got time for that.

You don’t say anything, only stare at him while his black hair falls on his forehead and you can’t believe you got so lucky. Once he’s done, he comes by your side, pulling close to his body and leaving kisses on your face. The one that breaks the silence again it’s him.

“So, how was that? Good as you expected or did it let you down?”

You giggle, moving your head so you can meet his eyes. “You really think this could’ve let me down?”

“Well, I don’t know, I thought you were pretty vanilla and there you were, begging me to bend you over and pull your hair,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek. “Maybe your fantasies were different than this.”

“It was amazing,” you smile, fighting the embarrassment caused by his words as you look at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.”

Jeno smiles, eyes lighting up before his lips fall on your forehead again. “I would wait for you forever.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#nct fanfiction #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

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planetdream · 7 months

Text

STRANGE DREAMS !

CHARACTERS ! incubus/demon!hyunjin, reader

GENRE ! horror, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 7.8k [more or less]

SYNOPSIS ! sometimes, you meet a strange man in your dreams. this is one of those times.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! edible-fueled writing. horror [gore—body horror: descriptions of blood and mutilated bodies. frightening figures and situations. description of drowning. nightmares and sleep paralysis. demons, and thus], references to biblical lore [christianity] and small references to milton's paradise lost [if you squint], and smut [dubcon—sexual manipulation and sex pollen, sorta. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possession/corruption. vaginal and anal sex. pussy and face slapping. teasing. fingering. spit. squirting. face fucking. degradation. strength kink sorta. sex with a demon—in demon form. monster cock. lots of cum]

⚠️ if you’re sensitive to gore, be advised before reading. i tried to be tame and brief with descriptions, and although i consider it to be light gore, i understand everyone has their limits. so proceed with caution.

💌 posting this earlier than originally planned cuz why not!! got the idea for this fic a year ago after an edible. it’s very weird n self indulgent but i’m glad i finally finished it !! i hope someone enjoys it <3 i always appreciate feedback !!

You’re certain that it’s the sky you’re gazing into—though, you’re unsure because your vision is unclear, a milky haze clouding your pupils—but the longer you look at it, the more it spins and distorts, bringing on nausea that rises in waves from the pit of your stomach to the top of your head. The nausea brings on a discomfort; dryness in your mouth and a straining in your eyes, and because of that, you’re left with no choice but to close your eyes and let your other senses take over. Darkness surrounds you, and it feels like you have risen into the sky, despite grass being beneath you, and it’s soft, comfortable; almost like you could sink deeper into it before reaching the hard, frigid dirt. You grab the blades of grass with a tight fist, tugging on it, but still unwilling to pull it out as if you would cause harm. Then, the grass all around you becomes apparent—alive—moving against your skin in a response back to you. It tickles all over, building the realization that you lay naked in the grass, though unwilling to get up or cover yourself; lost within the pure contentment of the situation.

There is a wave that sways over you—hot, heavy, and harsh, yet not too overbearing in its nature. You don’t know why, but there’s a sense of familiarity about when you are. It’s as if you’ve been here before, a distant memory that both chills and warms you.

Along with the burbling sound of water pouring into itself, the smell of water whisks in the cool breeze—slightly sweet, green and alluring; whistling your name, calling out for you to come over. The whispering is intriguing, full of temptation but slightly melancholic; no words need be said, yet you understand the language of the waters. The whispers are loud, blaring; not in the sense of volume, but by how jarring it is—unlike anything you’ve heard and yet, it’s something you feel so acquainted with, like a long-time friend. The water cries, begging for you to bathe within it or drink from it and promises a sweet taste that could be comparable to honey and lemons.

When you open your eyes again, everything is clear. The plants around you are breathing, communicating through the whistles of the wind; and just like the water, the plants cry out as well. Though, the cries of the flowers and trees are far different from the cries of the water. The cries of the water nearby sing a great harmony of promise and belief, whereas, the cries of the many trees screech of terror and agitation. They warn of what horrors can be witnessed here, of what great dangers are lurking within them. A sweet song of catastrophe. The flowers, however,—with captivating colors unlike anything you’ve ever seen, yet familiar; like the names of them are on the tip of your tongue, begging to be acknowledged and praised—cry differently. It’s a murmur most comparable to the feeling of silk against your hands, but also the feeling of goosebumps after a close encounter with something you shouldn’t have crossed paths with. A comfortable discomfort.

You look around, fully taking in the picture of what presents itself around you. There are butterflies varying in size and species—they sing as well, something similar to a war cry; morbid and haunting, though still beautiful and in great faith. Dragonflies buzz around, securing their place and status within the area. So much life here—at peace in this paradise. There’s some kind of haze or mist in the air, silent and still, tranquil. The sun is bright, blazing hot and practically piercing, yet despite the warmth, the air is slightly cool. The sight of your surroundings further cements your previous feelings of familiarity. Yet it also uncovers sheer discomfort. Yes, the area is familiar, but there’s something unsettling and distinctly different about it. A discomfort layering in the air, horribly beautiful and homely, but pandemonium is lurking, lurched and hidden within the shadows of this seeming paradise.

You roll over in the grass—laying on your stomach and lifting your head to see beyond what you could before. Not too far from your current position is a waterfall, continuing its whispers. The spring below is surrounded by unusual pink flowers and huge rocks covered in thick, green and yellow moss. Before you can process it, you’re on your feet and moving towards the spring. Once there, you kneel, gazing at your reflection in the waters. It’s almost too much to process but it’s you. It is you and yet it’s like the face you wear does not belong to you. Uncanny and off putting.

Movement. On your left, deep in the periphery of the spring. Your eyes shift, tracking whatever chooses to present itself. A swan. Elegant and pristine. It cranes its neck, beak pointing towards you in acknowledgment. You make full eye contact, and a chill runs up your spine causing your hair to stand on edge. An inflamed feeling of danger sparks within you, and before you have time to fight or run as far away as possible—“There you are!”

The voice comes from your right, but when you look in that direction, there’s nothing there. “So this is where you ran off to.”

The physical energy of the presence behind you is familiar, but strikingly overwhelming—it crawls up your skin like sharp nails, giving you goosebumps—you don’t need to turn around to recognize it. It’s Him. You’re unsure of what he is, exactly, but sometimes you meet him in your dreams. Though deep down you know that his existence and connection to you reaches well beyond the odd worlds of your dream realm. When he touches you, your surroundings change. The waterfall that you were once at is yards away, tiny in perspective. Despite having not moved an inch, it seems that every time you blink, you’re further and further into the woods; trees surrounding you and most certain to bury any noises emitted within their leaves.

The rustling of the tree leaves sounds like a screech, almost like sharp nails against a chalkboard—sinking deep and clashing, scraping out the porcelain enamel. The sound alone affects your brain, echoing in your mind, blaring enough to make you hold your hand against your head. The sound stops once he presses his hand against your cheek—so cold it feels like burning fire, almost scalding enough to melt off your skin; but you do not flinch, nor do you back away, frozen in place. The feeling of his skin against yours evokes an emotional aching so deep, you can feel it festering in the pit of your stomach, spreading to your organs and seeping into your veins—and somehow there is comfort in that.

He’s speaking, and while you’re unable to make out the words he is saying, you can tell that his voice is soft, pillowy like a cloud. Honey-laced words dipping from his tongue as if he’s trying to convince or ask something of you. You avert your gaze, unsure of if you actually want to meet his eyes.

His presence scares you just as much as it calms you. Intriguing, and homely but also frightening and domineering despite simply just standing there. Something about his demeanor feels off, or distorted, at the very least, as if he’s not actually in front of you. As if he was a result of your imagination instead of directly in your eyes view. He’s real, a hand against your skin, almost close enough for you to feel his breath lightly against your skin; and at the very least, he knows you. You know him, too, you think; of course, you’ve seen him in your dreams, but you’re inclined to believe you know him from somewhere else.

“Where are we?” You ask him, avoiding eye contact, shaking away from the contact his hand makes with you. Jarringly, it doesn’t feel like you said anything at all. Your mouth was moving and the words presented themselves in your mind and yet you can’t hear a single thing you’re saying. The familiar fire within your throat when you speak is no longer there.

“The Garden. It’s perfect here, isn’t it?” He gives you a small smile, seemingly understanding your indistinct confusion. Then, as he speaks up again, his voice drips with something resembling woe. “You and I used to live here a long time ago. I visit every so often, dip my legs into that spring back there, and then I reminisce on how pure life was back then before…”

You think he’s talking again, but once again, you’re unable to hear him. You’re too busy lost in his face. The urge to press your lips against his gets stronger as you’re next to him. Then you realize he’s naked as well, and your entire body gets warmer. There’s a budding ache inside you that’s all too familiar, growing at a rapid pace. It’s almost like your body is on fire as a result of being within his presence. Hormones floating, hair standing on edge, your more sensual and raw instincts ready to unveil and latch onto him at any time. Head hurting the longer you’re in his presence until it all just stops.

Everything stops. The trees are no longer rustling, birds no longer humming. There’s no splashing of the waterfall nor whistling in the wind. Just pure silence. The silence is uncomfortable, and causes you to stand still in your tracks like a deer, scared that if you make any sudden moves a predator might attack within the blink of an eye; jumping on you and tearing you apart in a bloody mess of flesh and organs flying everywhere, painting the fallen deep green leaves a perfect contrast of crimson.

“Run,” He says. There’s nothing in his voice; no emotion nor a slight hint at what he’s thinking. But the word echoes in your mind, and sends a chill down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on edge in either curiosity or total blood curdling fear.

“What do you mean?”

“You need to run,” His voice drops lower. “And don’t get caught.”

So you turn your heels and you run, not willing to ask him twice. Unsure of the direction you’re going in, but the further you seem to travel, the more that discomfort begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You pick up the pace—one foot in front of the other, careful not to trip over yourself—but a small part of you isn’t sure if the danger that you’re sensing is real or just a part of a sick and twisted game. Instead of running away from the source of your terror, it seems as though you’re running towards it, no matter the direction you run. Twigs and leaves snapping and crunching beneath your feet, but it causes you no pain. In fact, the only thing you can feel in the moment is the thumping of your heart and every single milliliter of blood marching through your vessels.

You admittedly don’t make it too far before you’re cowering, ducking against a large tree. Heart racing with such speed that you’re almost positive it would break free of your ribcage, piercing its way out of your chest. The tree, however, as quickly as you found it, is no longer a place of solace, as you hear a long, loud, and deep growl to your left. The deep guttural sound echoing, slicing through the trees like machetes. You’ve got to move, but you fear that if you do, whatever it is that made that sound, might attack, ripping you to shreds before you’ve even got a chance to exhale. There’s a roar once again, this time uncomfortably closer to your hiding place. You stand still, and the surrounding area of the forest is suddenly extremely silent. No rustle of leaves or echoes of birds, but a loud silence accompanied by a buzzing noise; like a horde of flies marching their way towards you.

“Hyunjin,” You call out. The name slips from your mouth with ease, as if you’ve been calling him by that name all along. In the blink of an eye, just as you exhale his name, your surroundings change; suddenly submerged in water.

You emerge from the cold water, barely having time to register your surroundings before you’re being forced back into the water; claw-like hands scraping into your scalp, sharp and heavy against your skull. It’s hard to make your way above the water because of the forceful weight and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath is useless due to the water infiltrating your lungs. You’re flailing and thrashing around, arms lifting—hands curling into a claws, attempting to grab onto something, only to slash through the water—and legs kicking mindlessly, trying to escape what is uncertain; heart rate accelerating as panic fully sets in. This seems to go on for nearly fifteen minutes, being edged by death over and over; blacking out then awakening time and time again. Vision blocked by the salty darkness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to end.

Abruptly, you’re dragged upwards by your hair, back falling harshly against rock, helping you cough up the water in your throat. It feels like it takes minutes for you to learn how to breathe again, attempting to do that and calm down enough to assess your surroundings. You’re coughing so much you think you might cough up an intestine, throat burning with each assault, chest sinking and expanding and then sinking again. It takes many moments of coming back to yourself that you notice that there is no rough hand against your scalp. Alarmed, moving around frantically, backing up toward the closest stone wall. Scanning the area, there’s no human nor animal, nor creature of any nature in sight. Not even a single insect. Not even Hyunjin.

You lean over, though not too far in case history repeats itself, to peer into the water; there isn’t even a single fish, as far as you can tell, the waters quickly descending into a vast, black pit of the unknown. Overhead, the sky that was once shining brightly now dimming rather quickly, accompanied by dark, angry clouds. The winds pick up, swirling atop of the trees, emitting a drawn out whistle comparable to wind chimes; of which you can surprisingly hear over splashing and sputtering of the nearby waterfall. Large roars of thunder stomping in, but no lightning accompanies it. You begin to curl into yourself, attempting to shield yourself from whatever is out there, nature or otherwise.

You close your eyes for five simple seconds, and when you open them, Hyunjin is right next to you. He doesn’t notice you’re awake at first until you shift, catching his attention. He turns to you and you avert your eyes from him. He’s talking but it’s all inaudible, unimportant. Something about his presence in this moment is unsettling. Slightly off from the initially odd behavior he’d be exhibiting. You just nod to his words. “Found you like this about an hour ago. You shook so hard until you stopped and fell asleep.”

Hyunjin holds out a hand for you, which you’re hesitant to grab, but the next thing you know, you’re standing slowly; legs shaking as you attempt to regain strength. You hold onto his arm for extra support, slightly struggling in your steps as he leads you, hand in hand, towards a small cave hidden behind the pour of the waterfall. It’s hardly a hike, but Hyunjin makes sure you get to the other size carefully. “The rocks are slippery. You’ve had a few accidents here before.”

A lot of Hyunjin’s words are vague. Referrals to past events involving the two of you, all of which you cannot remember. There’s a feeling that you’ve been here before, but you’re unable to prove it, or make those connections other than your gut feeling and Hyunjin’s comments.

You’re hesitant to walk into the cave, the inside being pitch black. Hyunjin walks in before you, completely fearless, as if there is no potential danger. At the snap of a finger, there’s suddenly a fire going on within the cave. From you place you can see how the fire illuminates Hyunjin’s figure just a bit, and as you walk closer—finding a bit more comfort now that you can see, and because you know Hyunjin is there waiting for you, willing to guide you into and protect you from the unknown—you admire how the flames of the fire accentuates Hyunjin’s facial features. He was made by God, sculpted from the finest clay and molded into an individual with otherworldly beauty. Hyunjin holds a torch-like stick, fire blazing at the tip of it, used as momentary safety. “I know somewhere we can go.”

He then points into the deep darkness of the cave. You don’t want to go deeper into the cave. Right where you stand is just fine, and most importantly, it’s safe. Hyunjin reads the hesitant look that’s displayed on your face, but he urges you. “You’ve got me, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

And his smile, as beautiful and perfect as it is, seemed crooked, faked for just a moment. He holds out his hand, and without even thinking about it, you take his hand in yours as if you had no choice despite the unease boiling inside of you. His smile curves up again and he turns his head, now guiding you down the cold, dark cave.

The entire time you’re walking, there’s nothing. Hyunjin doesn’t speak and neither do you. The walls on either side all appear the same, dirt colored and oddly smooth, with not even a small crater to make a difference. No matter how long you walk, nor how far, the dark pit continues into nothingness, an upsetting kind of emptiness. Despite Hyunjin being next to you, despite holding his hand, he’s like a stone wall. He makes no effort to speak, nor to even acknowledge you in the slightest despite leading you somewhere, it’s like you’re nothing but a mere bug, nothing to stress about or keep entertained. You feel nothing but loneliness at the pit of your stomach; the only things keeping you company are the thumping of your feet against the ground and the flickering of the flame Hyunjin holds.

It’s a long time of walking before you realize that this cave is actually a tunnel. The tiny white dot of light grows bigger and bigger with every step taken. It feels like forever until you and Hyunjin reach the end of the tunnel. When you do, you’re happy to see light again. The sky now bright and blue, prohibiting any angry clouds of heavy rain. Air fresh and inviting, free of any worry and apprehension. Whatever doubts or dreadful feelings once felt before are now completely an afterthought.

“C’mon let’s go.” Hyunjin discards the torch, dragging you with him by your hand, grip tight against you.

He leads you over to a flower field where flowers ranging in color, size, and species reside. The field is colorful, bright and happy, like a source of glee. Inviting you over by whisper—maybe it’s a honey-filled hum—so sweet and kind. The deeper you walk into the flower field, you notice how enticing the air smells—sweet like a pastry, yet fresh like petrichor. The longer you and Hyunjin walk, hand and hand, the more at ease and loose you feel, almost drunk, mouth welling up with excess saliva. The two of you eventually reach a point to rest, laying on the grass, no words exchanged between you two. Simply just basking in the sun, deeply breathing in the fragrance of the nature that surrounds you.

There’s a passage of time before you start to feel it; an itch that’s tempting you to scratch; a sudden burst in fire. A fire that begins at the pit of your stomach and continues to your core, flaring; spreading further throughout your body in static-like jolts. Your breaths change from relaxed and soft, quiet, to heavy and noticeable; and suddenly the atmosphere feels hotter, small beads of sweat collecting against your forehead. You shift, rubbing your thighs in effort to satiate your sudden cravings, wanting to grind your hips up in search of friction. Growing more desperate and needy by the second.

This is when you look towards Hyunjin, rolling onto your stomach, head resting in your hands as you gaze up at his sitting form; and you actually notice him. You notice his nakedness, every single inch of him on display. He’s like a god, with his honey-like skin that glows and glistens in the sunlight. Toned and defined arm and thigh muscles that flex with nearly every movement he makes. He was meant to be admired, made to be worshiped—having men and women alike kneeling at his feet and imploring him to fuck and defile them. If only you knew how much he agrees. These thoughts almost embarrass you, yet they feel so natural. And your eyes drip lower to admire Hyunjin’s more intimate parts. Cock hanging low, thick, and you’re not too sure if he’s hard or not but he’s big. Mouth watering as you admire his dick: the natural curve to it, how there’s three thick, prominent veins that disperse along his shaft (at least from what you can see at this angle) that are pulsing, just begging for your tongue to roll over them.

You’re pulled away from your fantasy when Hyunjin clears his throat. With an eyebrow raised and a glimmer in his eye, he gives a small smile to you, softly, “You need something from me?”

“Maybe,” You wink at him. You sit up to face him, hand making contact with his knee, fingertips trailing up and down his thigh in a teasing matter. You get a little closer to him, skin against skin, eyes fixated on his cock as your fingertips dance against his inner thigh.

That’s when Hyunjin kisses you, lips soft and plump; and when he presses them against your lips you feel like you're in heaven. At first, your lips barely touch, meeting in small pecks, sweet kisses that eventually deepen into something desperate. The kisses are open mouthed, wet and sloppy, Hyunjin’s tongue makes its way into your mouth naturally, exploring inside of you. The kiss only breaks a few times; when you place your hands flat against Hyunjin’s chest, pushing away slightly just to get air. Each time the kiss breaks, Hyunjin smiles with a small chuckle, licking his lips before leaning in again, forehead pressed to yours.

You break the kiss once more, now focusing more on Hyunjin’s cock. Spitting onto your hand and wrapping it around his shaft, squeezing lightly. Tight fist working up and down Hyunjin’s length, biting your lip when you feel him twitch within your hand. He bites his lip, holding back a moan. Hyunjin stops you before you get too deep into it, instead choosing to take the lead.

Hyunjin plants another kiss to your lips before kissing down your neck, trying his best to take his time to really savor you, but he soon grows impatient. Pushing you down flat against the grass. Quick, wet kisses in several places down your body before he plants one last kiss right above where he really wants to be. There, he wastes no time getting to work, tongue slithering out almost snake-like to lick against your cunt. He really takes in the first taste of his meal, wetness sitting against his tongue, practically melting in his mouth, he moans. He dives in once again, lips and tongue against your cunt, licking and sucking and moaning; fully savoring you.

“Taste so fucking good,” He breathes once to come up for air, not that he actually needs it. Continuing to lap at your cunt, lips kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. Hands coming to your thighs to grip, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him.

You grind against his face, hands instinctively going to his hair, fingers tangling within it and pulling with eagerness. Hyunjin groans into you at the slight sting of you pulling at his hair. Tongue not letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you get a break from the feeling of him against you. His mouth domes around your clit, sucking you in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. Mid arch, Hyunjin slips two fingers into you. Slight sting as he stretches you out, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust.

Soon planting open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally. Between Hyunjin’s tongue and fingers, in combination with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, it’s all too overwhelming. Cunt clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, which Hyunjin promptly gives. Fingers fucking into you faster, his other palm pressing down directly against your pelvis.

It’s all too much, but you don’t want it to stop. The feeling of your impending orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it. Tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. The tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches your face contort. Body stiffening within his hold, unallowed to thrash around, only able to take what he’s giving you. Though unable to completely relax into it, fighting off the feeling of eventual bliss.

Hyunjin lets out a breathy moan at your defiance. Thumb massaging your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. Hyunjin finally gets you to relax into his touch, into the feeling of temptation fully engulfing your soul. That’s when it takes over. Your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out cracked moans. Chest getting hot, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. Yet your body is only laid out in the grass, legs spread wide for him, as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over Hyunjin’s forearm and thighs. Tongue desperately trying to lap up whatever he can as his fingers slip away from your cunt. The palm of his hand coming down against your sore cunt once, making you moan out and close your thighs, back arching, pain stinging in the best possible way that leaves you aching for more. Not fully satisfied.

Hyunjin is kneeling over you now, a large hand around his cock. Angry red tip all pretty and glossed with precum that dares to fall onto your skin like delicious raindrops. His cock twitches in his hand, blood rushing, pulsing in the veins that decorate his shaft. It all just makes you think about finally having his cock in you. The burning of the stretch, the feel of him reaching places that haven’t been accessed before, not to mention the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, ounce by ounce.

When Hyunjin pushes into you, you nearly lose your breath, caught in a long inhale. He’s nice enough to push into you slowly, but it’s only because he wants to savor the feeling (though, Hyunjin fully intends to use you however he wants for as long as he pleases). His cock is thick, stretches you beyond anything you’ve experienced before; though instead of being painful, your body is laced, wrapped in pleasure, and the sensation of thrill rushes through your veins. You spread your legs further apart, welcoming more of Hyunijn, hoping that he pushes into you deeper; overcome with desire and want.

“So fucking wet,” Hyunjin pins his cock deeper into you, pulling out quickly, teasingly. “Need more of me?”

You nod frantically, bottom lip slipping away from the clutches of your teeth. When you look up at Hyunjin, his eyes are fixated on your cunt. Tongue peeking out of his mouth, swirling over his bottom lip, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and into his eyebrow. He’s concentrated, breathing so heavily that he almost begins emitting an inhumane growl, but he dials it back quickly. Instead of pushing all of his length inside of you, Hyunjin pulls out completely, tapping the head of his dick against your cunt, sliding his cock from left to right against your clit. You watch as he does this, listening to the pornographic sound of your wetness, cunt clenching around nothing, just begging to finally be filled.

“Please…” You find yourself begging. Eyebrows strung together as you rock your hips up and down, trying to catch Hyunjin’s cock only for him to move away, preventing you from chasing your pleasure. His hand comes down harsh against your cunt in succession, serving as a warning.

“So cockhungry, can’t you be patient?” Hyunjin continues his tease, repeated light slaps against your cunt with his dick. His cock is replaced by his hand, two fingers dragging down from your clit to your slit, thrusting them into you quickly. Two fingers are replaced by three, and three, by four. He moves quickly, tips of his fingers curled and hitting exactly where you need them. He fucks your moans out of you, reveling in the way that your cries spill out just like the wetness of your cunt, and he’s barely doing anything but fingering you. And you’re this fucked up, melting into his fingers, giving him nearly everything he wants. “Always so pathetic and slutty.”

Agreements slip from your mouth, just in hopes that he’ll give you what you need if you’re good for him. Hyunjin just laughs at you, you’re certainly the cutest plaything he’s had—he knows he’s got to take his time with you. Almost wanting to slip his thumb inside of you as well, Hyunjin decides against it, continuing to fuck you with four of his fingers, still unrelenting in his pace. You, however, are lost for words; taking every ounce of what Hyunjin is giving you. A burning sensation rising in the pit of your stomach, hips rising from the ground, but Hyunjin never stops. Even when you’re leaking all over him, thighs shaking and threatening to close around his arm, he doesn’t stop fucking his fingers into you; not until he’s sure he’s got every ounce from you. Cum dripping down his arm as he takes and takes from you, forcing you to squirt all over him and yourself once again. Sliding his fingers out of you with yet another slap against your cunt.

His hand is around his cock again—wet with your cum, smearing it all over his cock—squeezing at its base as he brings his tip to your entrance. But he teases again, merely slapping his cock against your cunt. You arch into him, grinding your hips against his cock but Hyunjin makes no notice of you and your antics. Eventually getting bored, pulling his cock away from you.

“Kneel,” He speaks curtly, standing. However, you do not move fast enough for his liking. “Don’t make me have to do it for you.”

He does anyway. Grabbing you by the hair, dragging you up and forcing you onto your knees, skin grinding into the grass, sure to have bruises on them. Hyunjin’s hand stays in your hair, tugging as his free hand wraps around his cock. He yanks your head to the side, proceeding to slap his cock against your cheek, precum oozing from the tip.

“Open.” He says, and you promptly follow his instructions. “Looks like I’ve got a smart one.”

Hyunjin spits into your mouth, globs of saliva coating your tongue. His cock closely follows, dipping the tip in and out of your mouth quickly. He shifts, though, choosing to slide his entire length into your mouth, lips closing around him; but Hyunjin doesn’t allow it. Cock sliding out of your mouth, resulting in Hyunjin slapping you on the cheek with it again; saliva and cum sticking to your cheek. “Keep your mouth open wide.”

You adjust for him, just wanting to be able to take him and satisfy his cravings. He slides his cock back into your mouth, fully, giving minimum time to adjust to neither his speed nor his size. Mouth stretched to capacity, jaws aching and burning but Hyunjin is completely relishing in all the gagging and choking you do. You’re getting dizzier the longer his dick is in your mouth, tip kissing, nearly ramming, the back of your throat due to Hyunjin’s pacing. You feel like you’re on fire but yet you’re still able to relax into it. It isn’t long before you start moaning around his cock, absentmindedly rocking your hips back and forth whenever you taste a hint of the salty sweet substance. Hyunjin then pulls out, saliva spilling all over your chin and connecting in tiny stings to his cock. Smacking your cheek with his cock another three times, erupting in a full belly laugh, smiling at the way you’re just a completed fucked out mess, barely registering a thing he’s doing or saying to you.

“Look at that,” Hyunjin releases you from his clutches. He pushes you back by your shoulder, making you catch yourself from falling back with the palms of your hands. When you look down, you’re completely soaked, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the ground, pooling messily onto a leaf, spilling off of its edges and soaking into the dirt beneath it. “Fucking filthy little mess you’ve made. Cunt just begging to be fucked, huh?”

The question is rhetorical but you still nod; even going as far as to whine a little bit, hips moving seemingly without your control. Hyunjin takes pleasure in this small action, kneeling down to your level. He licks his fingers, noting that he doesn’t need to at all, and swipes them over your clit, one, two times before his ring and middle finger are sliding into your cunt. Fingertips meeting the exact place you need them each time he slides them into you. You’re clenching around his fingers now, and Hyunjin licks his lips, pulling away from you.

“Turn around.” You obey, turning on your hands and knees, swinging your ass in the air. He continues with his teasing, and at this point you’re nearly sobbing, wondering if he’ll ever actually give you what you want. Pathetic chants and whines spilling from your mouth as you push your ass against Hyunjin, unable to control yourself; thinking with your cunt instead of your brain.

Hyunjin spits down onto you, and you can feel the glob of spit slide down from your asshole to your cunt, tickling its way down your clit. Hyunjin, though, slides the head of his cock from your clit, upwards, collecting his spit and your wetness in the process. He teases the tip at the rim of your tight hole, teasing at it. But when you push your ass towards Hyunjin, he pulls away, tsk-ing in the process.

“Silly little play thing,” Hyunjin gives a cold, almost threatening laugh. “I think I need to teach you a lesson on patience, hm?”

The threat has you pleading with him, repeated apologies dancing off your tongue, ultimately not acknowledged. Hyunjin loves to hear the sounds of your begs and pleads, but ultimately, the words you say do not matter to him—it all means nothing. Hyunjin marches at the beat of his own drum, and in situations like this, when he’s got a perfect piece of flesh like you beneath him, everything that he says, goes. And right now, he’s perfectly fine with teasing you over and over and over again.

Slapping his cock against your cunt once, twice, Hyunjin slightly pushes the head of his cock against the rim of your ass. He continues applying pressure, fixated on stretching out the perfectly puckered hole. You whine at the feeling, slowly inching away from it, but Hyunjin holds your hips still. Pushing and pushing, slowly, until finally he slides the head of his cock into your tight hole. Hyunjin moans out at how your hole tightens around him, welcoming him inside. He does nothing, just stays like that, moaning and ignoring your pleas for him to do something. It’s not until you feel the side of his hand brush up against you cunt that you realize Hyunjin has got a hand around his shaft, getting himself off while the tip of his cock is in your ass and you’ve got nothing to do except for lay there and accept it, with your ass in the air and your face against dirt.

His moans increase as he fucks his hand around his cock faster; and if it werent for his other hand holding you in place, you’d at least try to fuck back on him through the stretch of the pain. As Hyunjin exhales, letting out a deep groan of a moan, you feel the rush of warm liquid shooting into you. You moan in response as Hyunjin makes a mess of you with his cum, filling you up, trying to keep it all inside until he pulls out and it all, inevitably, leaks out of your hole, pooling around your cunt.

Hyunjin wastes no time, cock sliding into your cunt with ease due to your wetness and his cum; but the stretch is intense, more than you initially expected. You tighten up a bit, resisting, though you want to relax. You can’t hold your arch perfectly any longer but that’s the least of your worries—the only thing on your mind being cock. Hyunjin slides another inch into you. Maybe it’s because of all the teasing, or the fact that you’ve already cum twice, but he’s not even halfway inside of you and it feels like he’s reached the depths of your soul already. His hand reaches around, fingers coming in contact with your clit in hopes of helping you ease up.

“Created just for me,” Hyunjin breathes out, voice rough with possession. “Made just for me. Only me.”

He continues with his ownership of you, voice dipping deeper as his words become mostly obscenities. You don’t hear it. Or perhaps you can’t hear it. Maybe you don’t want to hear the vile things he’s saying. You’re overtaken, caught up by the intense, high pitch ringing that is worming its way through your ear canal, planting and fertilizing clashing waves of static all around your brain.

His hand wraps around your neck. It feels nothing like the soft, once heavenly hands that had been massaging all over your skin. These hands are rough, calloused and rigid palms that venture into freakishly long, boney fingers; with nails like claws that pierce into the side of your neck right behind your ear. Your eyes remain closed, fearing that if you open them that you’ll see something you shouldn’t, something that your mind would be unable to comprehend visually. A feeling of spiritual discomfort crawls up your back, causing you to arch, shivering at the same moment Hyunjin works his cock deeper into you, stretching you further; mentally and physically—of which he insists on doing, wanting to bend you to his will and break you beyond anything you’ve experienced.

Hyunjin pulls you back to him, hips unrelenting. Teeth, sharp like razors, piercing down into the flesh of your shoulders; nearly enough for blood to start trickling down your skin, but that does not occur. His teeth, however, do leave indents in your skin; that, if he’s lucky enough, will be permanent. His lips meet your ear next, a brief kiss planted to the lobe before whispering in a rather gruff voice, unlike that of his usual. “Inferior to me. Mine to claim.”

When he cums there’s an immense amount of it, sticky and warm. Hyunjin makes sure to be fully buried inside of you, cock seemingly swelling in size as he forces you to take all his cum inside. Hyunjin is selfish, not waiting a single moment, and barely pulling out before he begins to thrust back in. Cum coats his cock, almost daring to drip onto the ground in raindrop-like shapes. He refuses to allow that, however, fucking all of his cum back into you. His thighs, which originally felt like the silkiest, softest flesh, now coarse and dry—except for the sticky cum running down them, connecting in slightly thick, white lines against your thighs—and fuzzy; thick. “Mine to possess.”

You slowly come to realize that Hyunjin has taken a different shape completely. No longer possessing the body of a man, he has turned into some kind of beast, something inhuman. He’s grown abnormally in size and you can tell because he’s holding you up as he fucks you, toes barely scraping the dirt.

And as filthy and as frightening as it is, the line between fear and arousal is a very thin, blurry line. It leads you to come crashing down, partially due to the overstimulation, cunt spasming around Hyunjin’s cock, sucking in all his cum. You’re elated, completely delighted, mind elsewhere as you experience your high with Hyunjin fucking you through it. Hardly registering anything other than the feeling of Hyunjin’s cock stretching you out and the warmth of his cum—a sticky mess that’s leaking out both of your holes and staining your thighs.

When you come to, you’re laying on Hyunjin’s chest. It’s still daylight out, the sun beaming as bright as ever, nearly blinding when you open your eyes. It takes a few moments to shake away the pure, drowsy euphoria you’re feeling, completely ravished by bliss; almost hypnotized. You prop your head up to look at Hyunjin, and the moment you do, it’s like there are trumpets sounding off all around you. You have a realization—no, a revelation—that things aren’t as they seem as you peer up at the brown-haired man. As queasiness makes a home in the pit of your stomach, all within two mere seconds, the wind picks up; howling in the distance, bustling within the branches of trees.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” For what might be the first time, your eyes meet his.

What words can be used to describe what you saw when you looked into the eyes of that thing? Petrifying? Nauseating? Surreal? It makes you want to close your eyes, however, when you do, the images you’ve seen seem as though they’ve been permanently printed against the black of your eyelids. Perhaps you can attempt to run away—and hide, praying to God that you’re not stalked and caught—but your muscles don’t respond to the neurons being sent by your brain. Perhaps you can find a way out of this dream, but your physical body seemingly refuses to acknowledge the call to wake up; only processing the utter fright in the images it created. The only thing you can do is stare into Hyunjin’s eyes, continuing to receive visions of which you hope you’ll be able to forget.

His irises are a deep pool of black, displaying a particular flavor not only of loneliness but utter wickedness. The longer you stare into Hyunjin’s eyes the longer you are disillusioned, fully snatched away from all delusion of this former fairytale. Vision clouded by a thick, murky fog; fully spotlighting the shocks of visions you see in his eyes.

A beast, creature unlike anything you’ve ever seen or imagined. The face of a man only oddly elongated with empty eye sockets and horns—covered in blood that only makes a mop of its fine hair—curled up into two spikes atop his head. A smile so wide it’s like it was carved in with a razor blade and charred, blackened and blood stained fangs hanging from its mouth. Its body, with its abnormally long limbs, is completely drenched in blood, dripping in pools all around the entity. Pieces of what you can only assume is a human—or even worse, you—discarded and littered around it without much thought or care.

Flesh. Human meat. Limbs and bones and the insides—intestines, livers and hearts and muscle—all around you as this vision becomes reality; suddenly finding yourself within one meter of this monstrosity. The pool of blood coming up to your ankles, rising steadily. Pieces and pieces of the now deceased all around you, entirely mangled and minced. The creature holds pieces of meat within its claws, sharp nails piercing into the gray flesh, bits of meat stuck between its teeth as it tears into its victim.

It is feeding.

The situation becomes all the more frightening when the creature raises its head towards you. Despite it being eyeless, you know that you’re making eye contact, getting lost within the empty abyss that seems to be staring into the corners of your spirit. It’s wide smile never fading as it lurches, sprinting towards you faster than the blink of an eye.

The transition from the dream world to the waking world is surreal, almost jarring. Especially since when you awaken, you’re paralyzed, body stiff with static crawling all over your skin. The darkness of your bedroom surrounds you, both familiar and completely unknown. You attempt to move around a little, opening and closing your eyes multiple times, attempting to raise at least a finger; though falling short of progress to escape this feeling, left to stare straight up at your ceiling.

Then there’s the boom. A loud, static-like noise; deep as if something really heavy had dropped—but you’re unsure if it’s coming from the dark corner on your right or elsewhere within your home. A thing that simultaneously occurred and did not happen. The speed at which fear rises within you is faster than the speed of light. Heart racing as the physical manifestation of dread drops to the bottom of your stomach—fear making its home in the back of your throat, tightening as your swallow, seemingly making it difficult to breathe. It consumes you, a heavy burden, too insufferable to support, unable to put up a fair fight against it.

Don’t Look.

Curiosity gets the best of you. You shift your eyes to the right and in the far corner of the bedroom is a space that’s significantly darker than anything else in the room; like a void. Perhaps it’s because the light from your plug-in air freshener doesn’t reach that area of the room. And perhaps you’re tired and still reeling from that strange dream, but you swear you see movement as you glance over. You want to look away, you have to look away, but curiosity sinks its claws into you. Hypnotizing and you're paralyzed with fear of what could happen. Then, the darkness in the corner grows, getting larger as if whatever it is has been expanding, standing up to greet you.

Then it disperses. Leaving you alone, shaking and sweating in the cold, unwelcoming darkness of your room, finally able to move and process things.

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut

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denim-devil · 6 months

Note

Mike Schmidt x male reader pleaseee. Begging him to go to work with him, only to end up blowing him under the desk and maybe getting bent over by him🤭

•.* Sugar | M.S •.*

Summary - Just one night you promised, knowing the dangers, Mike put rules in place to make sure you were constantly monitored, he should of know why you had asked to join him…

A/N - I’m fucking obsessed with this man, like he could defile me in ANY WAY POSSIBLE and i’d thank him, please enjoy me spiralling for this man- (ALSO NOT PROOF READ)

“Please?”

You almost began to beg, gripping onto his baggy grey hoodie which captured the slight annoyance written against his features, the constant tugging on his sleeve resembled a hyperactive child but it had Mike question just how far you would go with the begging.

“Why? Why do you wanna go so bad- it’s a rundown shit hole”

He mumbles gruffly, hazel eyes darting down to meet with your own, trapped within a everlasting battle of a shared gaze, his eyebrows furrowing when finger tips graze just above his groin.

“I just wanna keep you company…is that such a bad thing?” Your words were a mere whisper, goosebumps now present over his cloth-covered skin, could he be so harsh to deny you? You were the only source of his happiness, just one night wouldn’t be so bad right?

He sighs, eyes shutting as he groans once you go lower, massaging the spot next to his growing ache. You had a way with not only words but it always seemed to work, each touch, each blink you gave had your lashes flick ethereally.

“Fine- but you better stay in the office, by my side at all times, you don’t know what’s lurking in the dark there”

An eager “yes” escapes your parted lips and it warmed his heart, that certain fuzzy feeling that left him daft and in love lingered and he couldn’t help but pull you into him, it had taken time to get to this point, especially for Mike, you had opened so many doors for him, his arms squeezed you close against him, lips placing a soft, chaste kiss to your temple in silence.

“Thank you Mikey, I appreciate it…”

He smiles with certainty downwards, his hold had loosened now but just enough so he could see how your cheeks grew with scarlet blossom, how timid you had gotten underneath his stare.

“Anytime…”

Knowing how easy it was to get underneath his skin like a blue beetle had a certain grip on you, thoughts about making it worth his time had riddled your brain, confusing both kindness and lust all in one.

Mike had his own ideas to pass the time, yet they were still for you to uncover.

• • • •

The night was quiet.

Mike questioned the silence at points, it was unusual for the place to stand still, slightly ominous in it’s restlessness, in it’s abandonment.

“So…is this what the job is?? To sit and watch camera’s?”

You sassily remark, eager to get a reaction from him, his office chair swirled as he span slowly, eventually facing your slumped frame, his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, slightly annoyed that you weren’t taking this seriously.

“No, I do actually have to check around, see if anything or anyone gets in, hence this-“

He poked the heavy golden badge latched onto his attire, just above the bold letters “security”. You couldn’t stop the laugh that rattled from the base of your chest, glancing over the cutesy child’s toy.

Mike’s brows furrowed, slightly confused but he understood, it was slightly silly, what else was he going to do with his time here? Sit in the same chair for six hours straight whilst going slightly insane?

“Really Mike? Where did you even get that?”

He glared with a certain tone, almost studying you.

“I found it out back…with everything else”

Interest spiked within you like the love you had for Mike. You reach over, hands gripping onto the warmed arm rests of his chair, pulling him closer until your lips were mere inches apart.

“I admire your bravery…”

His breath was sharp, taking in what he could before he dipped slightly, latching his own onto yours, the kiss was slow, played with the imaginary heart strings you conjured up in your head, a professional guitarist lingering the tips of his fingers amongst them, twanging each one as he pushed for it, pushed for more.

He pulls away, just enough to break it, break you out of it. The office was cold, the concrete checkered floor doing nothing to secure the heat in, Mike was your only source, not that you were complaining.

“Why did you ask to come tonight?”

In all honesty, you had nothing in your roster to fight back with, instead, a wandering hand of your own timidly trails down his denim clad thigh, rubbing the area earning a soft grunt, one he tried holding back.

“I’m not sure…but I can show you-“

That drew Mike’s attention back to your face, his lips slightly agape, jaw slack when you gravely reach for the spot you grew quickly acquainted with.

It was a surprise…he was already half hard, almost bursting at the seems once the continuous rubbing began, your palm was a source of comfort and desire for him.

“Yeah?…”

Mike still questioned himself, he shouldn’t really be distracted on the job, he had so much to uncover but the stress, god, it riddled every muscle and organ he had, he ached for it, yearned for something warm and wet.

“Is this okay, Mikey?”

He nods, almost to eager for it, you understood though, kicking your own chair behind you whilst lowering yourself, knees folding once you hit the hard floor with ease, it wasn’t the first time.

His eyes bore holes into you, like a scorching fire, they glowed with uncertainty and lust which served as a hard time, you weren’t entirely sure if Mike really wanted this.

Laying your head against his thigh, your hands slowly figure out the zipper, tugging the small piece of metal down before fingertips dig into the small opening created, pushing the thin material of his white briefs, unveiling the very source of your own impulse.

Glaring with both anticipation and admiration your eyes flicker, darting from certain points of his thick cock, his head a deep crimson, tints of purple like it had lacked something, a singular vein ran thickly on the underside from base to tip, it stood tall and proud, it always had and will for you.

The view you would never ever get use to, he always surprised you, how could it be both so beautiful and…big.

“Think you could help me out baby-“

The question lingered in the air for sometime whilst you hands began to work over him, both fists enclosed over it, jerking back and forth, watching excess skin slip back and forth, uncovering the tip once again.

“Yes Mikey- fuck, look at you…”

A few more wrist flicks you give, just to get him there, just to allow him to taste it in the air, to taste just what your about to do.

Your Eager lips wrap sultry around his pre-slicked head, engulfing the first two inches whilst using a hand to massage the rest, the other fondling the heavy sack just below, thumbing the spot between both testicles.

“Fuck- I gotta, we can’t be-“

He groaned before restless hands ran through your hair before resting at the base of your neck, pushing you down, this was now beyond your control, you were his to use, freely.

The last few inches slip inside, past the corners of your stretched lips and into the back of your throat, there the tip lingered and the heaviness on your tongue grew, chin resting lightly against his balls.

That’s when you choked and gagged, a thick layer of saliva trickling from the corners of your occupied mouth, gathering at the base, joining the thin layer of brunette hair.

The man above you groaned so loudly that it rattled the thin walls of the room. You could feel a gush of fluid dripping out of your throbbing cock which began to seep into the denim of your trousers, Mike was to busy rolling his hips into your throat to focus on anything else but his release, you wanted him to know just how much this got you to.

With a loud slurp and pop, you sucked and lapped the head of Mike’s aching cock, you wrap an eager hand around his length, squeezing and pumping as you mouth at his balls, slurping them both into your mouth and licking the underside.

“Baby- fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close”

Mike gripped at your now matted hair, forcing you back into his length, pushing you down as far as possible until he settle himself fully down your throat, watching as you begin to struggle, choking and sputtering for air.

His eyes focus on the tears slipping from your damp lids. Watched the copious amounts of saliva drip and leak from his balls and chair to the floor, you proved to be a mess and it had his insides churning and his cock jump and twitch.

“Baby-“

He came with a shout, hands still buried in the thickness of your hair, holding you there, making sure to take every single drop, in which you do, before proceeding to suck him dry, pull off with a hungered gasp.

The point yet again was proven, Mike needed you by his side constantly, the time flew and if anything, the stress seemed to subside, replaced with a certain lightness he compared to bliss.

You tuck him away, secreting the mess within his briefs before scrambling up into his lap, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He held you for a while, kissing softly at your ear.

The ache, the one from before hadn’t really fully disappeared and he felt guilty, yet he wanted more, craved more, this was nice and all, he loved this usually but…he wanted more of you.

Wiggling slightly earns a rumble of a grunt, he still wasn’t ready to leave this office, not until he had his fair share.

“Mikey…”

You trail off, feeling him grow harder by the second, it hadn’t even been ten minutes, what have you gotten yourself into?

“Why don’t you get undressed and bend over my desk, all pretty for me baby, I gotta have you…”

#male reader #x male reader #fnaf #mike schmidt #smut #fluff #MIKE IS A BIG BOY #like-#HELP #he can rearrange my guts DAILY

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geeks-universe · 2 days

Text

Cooper Howard x F!Reader (not to spoil it, but you know I love my crossovers so…)

The Fallen

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once, when the world was younger and you were still naive enough to believe in fate, you asked your father about love.

He’d laughed then- a deep, cheery kind, that spoke of a wisdom you could never hope to achieve.

“In time,” he’d promised, taking your hands into his, “You’ll learn that love comes in many forms, and the love you choose will always be the greatest.”

Even after everything, after years and years of disappointment, of cruelty and emptiness, you couldn’t forget his words.

So, in an act of rebellion, you chose love.

You chose the love of your brother, the brother who would lose everything, who would fall from Grace, just for defying fate.

You chose the human race, who turned their back on you, who hurt you over and over again.

You chose a better life, that seemed impossible most days- but sometimes, just sometimes, everybody lives.

And you chose wrong.

The world tore itself apart, and just when you wanted to believe it could find itself again, it would fall into the greatest trap in human history: greed.

The love in your soul turned to dust, like the cities you’d once roamed, crumbling until all that remained was an empty space and broken dreams. You’d held onto what you could of yourself, desperate to piece together the fragments into something that resembled the person you’d been, but there was no hope. The spark of hope you’d once kindled and raised to an inferno was doused, nothing but ashes in the ocean of your disappointment.

There were still a few things you couldn’t abide by, however, and Cooper Howard dragging an innocent woman through the desolate Wastelands was one of them.

You’d happened upon the scene by accident, just passing through, but the familiarity of the figure had you lurking longer than what was normally deemed safe.

“Coop?”

Your voice was gentle, like the beginning strums of a sweet song. Cooper wasn’t sure how the harshness that had etched itself into your demeanor never invaded your speech, but he would be eternally grateful. It was a goddamn godsend he didn’t believe he ever deserved.

“Well, now,” he drawled, careful to keep the smile that threatened to peek through hidden. “Last I heard, you were headed East.”

You had no such reservations, and even the years of guilt and pain couldn’t wipe away the upturn of your lips. For an action so small, it sure did radiate in a way the sun never could.

“I did, but it didn’t stick,” you shrugged, grabbing the straps of your backpack. Never one for subtlety, you gestured at the vault-dweller, who had been eyeing you with a keen interest.

She had been quiet, obviously, for the sake of herself and how Cooper might react to her asking for help. Now that you’d acknowledged her, though, she started speaking up, much to Cooper’s chagrin.

“I’m Lucy,” she said, tugging harshly at the restraints around her neck. “I’m looking for my father.”

You nodded, and the fluttering in Lucy’s heart slowed, fear mixing with her initial curiosity. You knew the ghoul holding her captive, the chances of you helping her were slim to none, but she tried to remain optimistic. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a good person on the surface.

“Might be hard to do with that,” your eyes flicked from her neck to Cooper, with a pointed raise of one brow.

He let out a low whistle, leaning back with the confidence of a man who’d lived long enough to not be afraid of shit. If it were anyone else, friend or not, he would’ve shot them dead and been done with it. He didn’t need to answer to anyone, but something deep in his chest forced his hands steady.

“She broke my vials,” he explained, cautiously avoiding your gaze. “Seems only fair she gets me more.”

“He used me as bait!” Lucy argued indignantly, trying to take a step towards you only to be tugged back by Cooper. “I had to do something.”

“Your father,” the word is strained, a haunting in your eyes Lucy can’t place, “Where is he?”

Lucy tried, once again, to walk to you. Coop, however, was keeping her on a tight leash, refusing to let her near you. It’s for his benefit, he tells himself, even if some small part of him does it for your protection.

Over the years, he’s run into you many, many times. No matter how hard he’s tried, it’s like fate keeps bringing him back to you. At first, he’d been downright horrible to you, terrified to admit that there was something in your eyes that made him feel human again. Slowly, ever slowly, like a stubborn weed you grew on him, and it’s been impossible for him to deny the way his body reacts to you.

“Coop,” you chide, your voice like velvet, enveloping his skin in a soft warmth. Fuck, he did love it when you used his name.

You gave Lucy a half smile, and the growl that threatened to leave Cooper’s mouth got caught in his throat as he realized you weren’t walking to her, but to him.

“I’ll get you the vials, just let her find her dad.”

He stood a little taller as you approached, planting his hands on his belt as he ran his tongue along his teeth.

“Darlin’, I ain’t doing this for the hell of it,” he replied, and then paused. “Mostly.”

You reached your hands out, carefully enveloping them around where he was grasping the rope. In all his years, he hadn’t recalled a single touch ever stirring his stomach the way yours did. You’d only ever touched him once before, and it was a brief graze of his cheek. This was intentful, and it felt a hell of a lot more intimate than it had any right to be.

“Please,” you breathed, and he could see the despair in your eyes - eyes that were far too old for someone who looked so young. He could never quite piece together how you fit in this world, or how you managed to look as if you’d stepped right out of the past just to have this moment with him.

He sighed, maintaining a scowl for all he was worth. Cooper Howard would not let you see the effect you had on him.

“Thank you, Coop.”

His stubborn heart skipped a beat as he clenched his jaw, his expression emanating annoyance. You weren’t perturbed, however, turning away to free Lucy.

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduced yourself, careful not to irritate the marks on her neck further. Cooper was rough around the edges, you knew that, but you saw the man beneath the armor in the little moments, the times he couldn’t quite hide who he was.

It intrigued you, made you think about yourself and the person you’d become. Perhaps, you had been too hasty in throwing that person away. Maybe, that part of yourself was still alive too, buried underneath layers of armor.

“Thank you,” she was sincere in her gratitude, and that tiny piece of yourself flared, begging to be remembered.

“I could help you too, you know,” you offered after a delayed pause, chasing the optimism she held tightly onto.

No matter how hard you tried, your soul fought back, demanded to be whole again.

“Really?” Her surprise morphed to joy, and you found it contagious.

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Cooper interrupted, not pleased with that development. “Your services are required elsewhere.”

“I’m capable of servicing more than just you.”

His leg twitched at the insinuation, at the way you looked at him from beneath your lashes with an innocence he doubted you possessed.

“But, since you asked so nicely cowboy,” your smile was devious, your tone far too sultry for the sweltering heat of the desert. “You first.”

Lucy’s brows were to her hairline, unsure what to make of the dynamic between the two of you. Her entertainment, however, was cut blissfully short when you threw a canteen towards her, which she caught instinctually.

“Now you’re coddling her, sweetheart?”

You took a moment to wrap the lasso Cooper carried around into a neat loop, your gaze locked with his as you approached once more. Lucy was too preoccupied with her water to notice the two of you sizing one another up.

“Don’t be jealous, Coop,” you grabbed the front of his belt roughly, forcing him a step closer to you.

He fell into the motion, tracing his eyes dangerously slow from where you gripped his belt to the soft curve of your lips.

“You’re still my favorite,” you promised on a breath as you tucked his lasso securely into his waist.

His hands snatched your wrists before you pulled away, and for a brief moment, the intermingling of your breath was all that interrupted the silence. His gaze was a challenge, and yours was far too playful.

It was damn near unfair how you could walk through the apocalypse and still look like you belonged on a fucking billboard. There was an unnatural allure around you, and he wasn’t sure if it was the twinkle in your eyes, or the smoothness of your skin, or the gentle bur of your voice- but holy fuck you looked like an angel that’d accidentally stumbled into hell.

The silence was interrupted by Lucy clearing her throat, an awkward smile as she caught your attention.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but-“

“It’s okay,” you assure her, grazing your fingers along Cooper’s palms as you step from his proximity.

“Vials first, daddy dearest after,” you reminded them, taking the lead.

Lucy was more than happy to walk beside you, while Cooper trailed a small distance behind. Where Lucy was insistent on speaking, keeping up a steady conversation through the long trek, Cooper preferred to observe.

First, he focused on the way your black jumpsuit hugged all the right areas, tight enough it could be considered a damn sin. That train of thought was dangerous though, and left him with an ache he knew he couldn’t satisfy on his own.

So, he instead focused on the way you effortlessly dodged Lucy’s line of questions, and redirected the questions to learn about her. It was curious, that. As much of a tight lipped bastard that Cooper was, you were doubly so. Through the years and the friendly encounters, he’d let some of his life slip in conversation. Nothing substantial, but you certainly knew more tidbits than anyone else.

He, however, didn’t know anything about you. He knew what he observed, but you never told him anything about your past.

It helped pass the time, sifting through your noncommittal answers to make assumptions about the life you lived.

It was difficult though.

Sometimes, you talked about things like you’d witnessed them, even though it would’ve been impossible. He didn’t know your age exactly, but if he had to guess, he’d put you at maybe mid-twenties, and that’s at the oldest. It was damn near a miracle you didn’t have any missing limbs or obvious scarring. You looked as unmarked as a damn vault dweller, and he was starting to think that perhaps you had been one.

“Have you always lived on the surface?”

He never thought he’d be thankful for the damn vault dweller, but it was nice having someone try to pry some answers out of you.

“That’s a harder question to answer than you’d think,” you laughed a little coyly, like there was a joke that only you were privy to.

When it was obvious you weren’t going to continue speaking, and Lucy had far too many manners to push any further on the subject, she asked another question.

“Why’d you help me?“

Your gaze turned toward the setting sun. It had been over half the day since you’d decided to help them both, and the sun was just now slipping below the horizon. The three of you would have to rest soon.

“It’s hard to forget the person I was,” you admitted lowly.

The symphony that was your voice turned decidedly melancholy, unnaturally so. Normally, it sounded more like a romantic string of tunes that captured the essence of life. This, however, was sad, dead.

“Maybe the world needs more people like that,” Lucy provided, and Cooper didn’t miss the flash of guilt that devastated your expression.

Curious, indeed.

“I’d reckon that’s the last place we’ll find ‘fore the sun disappears,” Coop states, pointing to a rickety, old house, somehow still standing against the desert in defiance.

“It’s as good a place as any for the night,” you shrugged, leading the small group to the rest spot.

Where Cooper was cautious, weapon drawn, you were careless, opening the door like you knew nothing was in there that could hurt you. He felt a twinge of annoyance that you would be that reckless, knowing the dangers of the Wasteland. He was many things, but a protector was certainly not one of them.

“Here,” Lucy tried to hand you back the canteen you’d gifted her earlier as you settled yourself down in a corner.

The building was definitely empty, and provided some amount of protection from both the elements and any creatures lurking about, but there wasn’t any intact furniture. You’d found a relatively comfortable pile of sand and laid your pack down, as if it were a pillow.

“Keep it,” you refused to take the offering. You were honestly a bit surprised she had even saved some for you.

“But you haven’t had anything to drink all day.”

It was an oddity that Cooper had noticed too. While both he and the vault-dweller had taken an occasional sip of water or a bite to eat, you hadn’t done either, and the brutal pace you’d set hadn’t reflected that.

“Believe me, “ you said, turning your back to your two traveling companions. “I’m okay.”

Obviously unsatisfied with leaving the conversation, Lucy frowned, but obeyed. Her probing look to the ghoul warranted no answers, and eventually she found her own patch of sand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days passed along in a similar manner, and the more of you that the two observed, the more confused they became. They didn’t voice their concerns, however, far more focused on the destination you had in mind.

“It’s…”

Lucy trailed off, side eyeing you with a questioning look.

“A lab,” you supplied.

“Right, a lab!” She echoed enthusiastically, deciding it best not to point out that it was very much in a state of disrepair and the likelihood of anything surviving the looting prevalent throughout the Wastelands was little to none.

“Sugar, I don’t have the time to be fucking around right now.”

It was the closest tone to anger that Cooper had spoken to you since his first year of knowing you. In the past two days specifically his coughing had grown more severe and more often.

You’d explained a generalized version of what would happen without help to Lucy after the first night, and since then she’d been a bit more apologetic to the ghoul, even if he was a dick.

“Stay out here,” you ordered, not waiting for their inevitable protest as you slipped into the decrepit building with a loud screech of the door.

At the very least, your traveling companions didn’t follow you into the descending hallway, which was more than you expected.

Whatever source had powered the underground facility had died years ago, leaving the bulk of the supplies sealed tight behind an impenetrable door. The bunker was lined with 2 feet of lead, and a door weighing many tons. It was nigh impossible to get in, and if you were anyone else, you would’ve considered it a lost cause.

Instead, you cast a glance back towards the faded light where the entrance was, ensuring that you were not followed while you grabbed hold of the door handle.

You sighed, yanking with a great deal of force until the door made a loud pop, coming unhinged and falling to the ground with a deafening thud. There was a hushed murmur from where Lucy had yelled down to you, but you didn’t bother replying, instead focused on the rows and rows of vials.

Most of the initial testing sites were still secret, a forgotten part of history that, despite their usefulness in the current state of the world, had fallen into the cracks of negligence. Luckily for you, and by extension Cooper, there was enough supply to last him damn near a year if he could ration and store it properly.

Just as you dropped the first vial into your backpack, which was in a convenient metal container, you heard a distinct whooshing noise. You didn’t need to look at the falling object to know who had decided to drop by, and with an exasperated sigh, you tilted your head toward the ceiling of the very dark, very cold bunker.

“Brother…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think we should check on her?” Lucy was having trouble keeping still, straining her eyes down the dark hallway. “What if she’s hurt?“

“She ain’t hurt,” Cooper shot back, leaning back against the dingy building and crossing his arms over his chest.

“She could be de-“

“Finish that sentence and you might find yourself there, sweetheart,” He threatened, his fingers reaching down toward his holstered gun.

Maybe it’d be better to keep her mouth shut, but after a tense silence, and quite literally nothing better to do, Lucy couldn’t help herself.

“So, you and (Y/N)-“

“Do you like breathin’? ‘Cause I’m getting the distinct feeling that you certainly do not.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you look at her with this-“

“I have no qualms with blasting a hole through your head ‘nd tellin’ her you decided to run off.”

“And then there’s the way she talks to you-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there, sweetheart. If one more word comes out of your mouth, it’ll be the last.”

The two met stare for stare, the threat lingering in the hot breeze between them. Lucy had no doubt she was beginning to grate on the ghoul’s nerves, but she also didn’t really think he’d harm her, not when it was obvious you’d know it was him that did so.

He wouldn’t risk you being upset with him.

Probably.

And because Lucy really didn’t know when to stop talking, she spoke one more time.

“I know that you think I’m naive, and maybe I am, but I do know that life is unexpected and people die, like, a lot.” She dragged in a breath, envisioning her last, and only, memory with her mother, surprised that Cooper had actually let her speak for this long without interrupting.

“Especially up here, so maybe, just… keep that in mind.”

The silence stretched, and for a long moment, Lucy was sure he was going to shoot her. Or at the very least, not answer.

Ever so quietly, however, in a low grumble she heard him mutter, “I know.”

The air felt significantly less murderous after that, and she left the ghoul to contemplate his complex feelings on the subject. She might not fully understand the extent of your connection, or even why you felt that way towards him, but she could appreciate the raw emotion that sparked in the conversation between you both.

If anything good came out of her coming to the surface, besides bringing her dad home, she hopes it would be them realizing the gift they have. Idly, she thought about the knight she’d met back at Filly. That was the first real connection she’d had with anyone, as silly as it was to think about.

“I’m glad nobody’s shot,” you interrupted the quiet contemplation, the smile on your lips not quite reaching your eyes.

Whatever happened in the mysterious lab couldn’t have been good, but you seemed entirely unscathed outside the haunted, nervous look in your eyes.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Cooper greeted, tipping his hat back a titch so he could inspect your person. If he took a little extra time to appreciate the curves of your body- well, who could blame him?

“It’s cleared out,” you rattled your pack in the air before you, nearly dropping some of the overstuffed vials.

Coop let out a low whistle, and Lucy commented, “That’s enough for a lifetime.”

“Not quite,” you laughed, passing along the top one to Cooper. “But it will certainly last a while.”

While the ghoul tended to his needs, Lucy and you wandered further into the Wasteland, eyeing the pipboy on her wrist with the directions to the head.

“So the head for your dad?”

There it was again. The sourness in your voice at the word “dad”. Lucy wanted to ask without being too terribly intrusive, but let the subject drop.

“Did anything happen in the lab?”

You bummed, shaking your head. It was clearly a lie, further proven by the frown that settled on your lips. There wasn’t a lot of yourself you trusted other people with, especially not when it came to your family, but your soul was burning with the desire to shed your armor.

“My brother’s name is Lucy,” you said suddenly, unprompted. “Well, his nickname.”

Lucy, at the very least knowing where the boundary was, decided not to press her luck. Despite seeming to be such a small piece of information, she could see the effort you put into sharing it nonetheless.

“Lucy?” Cooper echoed, having snuck up at some point to follow you.

You weren’t bothered that he’d overheard though. On more than one occasion you’d wanted to share pieces of yourself with Cooper.

“Lucifer,” you provided his full name, a twinge at the top of your shoulder blade, where your battered, broken wings began, ran down the length of your spine.

“Like the devil?” Lucy inquired cautiously.

A laugh crawled up your throat, and before you could stop it, you were giggling heartily, nodding your head.

“That’d be the one, yeah.”

She didn’t understand the truth you were telling her. You knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t possibly fathom the implications that ensued with that knowledge either.

Lucy casted one quick glance at Cooper, then cleared her throat and claimed she was going off the path to use the bathroom quick.

There was a tense silence that permeated the hot, desert air when she left, a new development that neither occupant knew how to navigate. Finally, Coop broke it.

“Ya know, you’ve never actually talked about… all o’ that.”

Your family.

He didn’t say it in so many words, but you could fill in the unspoken topic without much thought. You hummed, acknowledging your own secrecy regarding your past.

“Sometimes it’s better to leave the past buried.”

Coop breathed out a laugh.

“Don’t I know it.”

The smile you gave him was genuine, albeit small. Hesitantly, you reached out towards his gloved hand, grasping it lightly between your own. You didn’t have anything you really wanted to say, didn’t need to, actually. He could see it in your eyes, the gratefulness shining in your bright gaze, clearing some of the guilt that stayed stagnant on your person.

“The vaultie reminded me today,” he drawled, his voice even lower than normal. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say he was almost flustered.

“People die.”

You waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, you raised a brow in question.

Cooper felt his heart jump to his throat. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bare himself- not now, maybe not ever. The world felt like it started spinning around him, and he pulled his hand from yours, cradling it to your chest.

“Just hope you’re not one of ‘em, darlin’,” he finished lamely.

You swallowed, deciding it was better not to push. Not today.

“You too, Coop.”

Words simmered between you. Dangerous, terrifying words. But Cooper couldn’t get them out, couldn’t get past the panic that played his heart like a damn fiddle.

And you, well you couldn’t let go of your guilt, couldn’t see past the pain of watching the world go to shit and not doing anything to stop it.

So those words stayed unspoke, utterances of the heart, but not of the lips. Maybe, if they were never voiced, they could freeze, and eventually crumble, like time did to all.

Lucy returned then, and the unlikely group continued on as before, leaving the forgotten words to decay away in the dry sand of the Wasteland

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard insert #i love him #i warned y’all #anyways #bye I have no regrets

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sourholland · 6 days

Text

Guilty as Sin

CHAPTER ONE ; azriel x fem!reader

summary: the lost princess of the dawn court finds herself brazenly escaping her own personal living hell. seeking refuge, as well as peace to plot in the city of velaris—she meets azriel shadowsinger and through the throws of disdain and discomfort they are forced to work side by side, intertwined through their shared scars.

a/n: ok so this first chapter is literally all exposition and world building within this world, i’m so sorry :( i promise that it will very much so pick up. this series is mainly about me exploring different aspects of my writing, i’ve never written a long series before. my longest is 50k and each chapter was about 2k words so this is something i feel really proud to put out, even if it is just the first chapter. if you’d like to be tagged please let me know!! this fic isn’t necessarily inspired by, but is a lot like taylor swift’s new song “guilty as sin?”. feedback always appreciated:)

warnings: strong language, mentions of trauma regarding men, heavy themes of ptsd and suicidal thoughts

spotify playlist (unfinished)

wc: 5.4k

Run.

The word cut through your mind, slicing through each and every thought you possessed as you gazed downwards at your bloodied hands. There was so much blood. Hot, thick blood ran down your forearms, coating your face and the inside of your mouth. Your stomach lurched, however by the grace of the Gods, you fled.

In over fifty years, you had not left this camp. Since you were just a girl, at twelve years old, you had resided within the hidden stone of the warrior camp. Now you had no choice but to utter a quick prayer to the Mother and run fast and furiously forward without looking back. Only the knife you had just used remained sheathed at your hip as you felt the ground beneath your boot-clad feet. There was a cloak pulled around you, it covered your face well and kept you concealed.

What was that saying, you thought silently to yourself in between painful dry heaves. ‘Feet don’t fail me now.’

It was nightfall and you ran tirelessly through the forest you had been warned to never brave on your own. As a child, your mother had warned that you must not meet what lurks after dark. She told you that not even those beasts would mind slaying the Princess of the Dawn Court. To them, the title was useless and your blood was just the same. Blood. You reeked of those warriors' blood and sweat and desperation. It was clad to your skin like a layer of oil or grime, the taste of iron making you spit.

A part of you wondered if you would die out in this forest, no idea where you were or what place Cousin Thesan had brought you so many decades ago. Stopping to lean against a tree, you panted and let the silent tears flow at once. Where were you? For all you knew, he had dropped you within the Continents and only used very good wards to keep the camp hidden. Why had you let them take you? What hadn’t you fought harder against Thesan’s word as Amarantha began exercising power among Prythian.

You had no answer, but only began to run once again. There was no choice, unless you planned to slit your own throat and simply give up. No. You are a warrior, you are a fighter and nothing would keep you from finding your cousin and demanding answers for his crimes. That’s what his actions were to you, criminal and inhumane and you would not be surprised if in the end–you adorned his blood on your hands as well.

“Who dares enter this part of my forest?” A voice drawled from nowhere in particular, causing you to flinch and raise the dagger shakily in defense. “What is your name, girl?”

The voice came from the trees, you swore to yourself. It came in whisps and wind, the blackness of the forest making it impossible for you to determine where exactly the source was. If there was a source. It omitted what you swore was a chuckle, an unfamiliar sound to you for so long. Sweat collected at the nape of your neck and temples, hair stuck down to your forehead and your skin blazed as you continued to rotate in full circles with your dagger pointed at nothing.

“Y/N, Princess of Dawn and Bringer of Light. What is your business in dwelling here? This is no place for a young Fae girl. Especially one so sweet as yourself, and you wear the blood of ten men. It is as if you hope to die tonight,” the voice whispered, a hot, invisible breath on your neck. “Do you hope to die tonight?”

“No,” you finally spoke into the abyss. “I hope to locate my homelands, I am in search of the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Show yourself.”

The voice ignored your demand, “leave this forest, Princess. For the ones hunting you are far worse than those warriors you slaughtered miles back.”

The stiff cloth of your dress began to itch beneath your robes and you stood taller than before as the voice surrounded you. Perhaps you would die tonight, at least you would have gone out thrashing and fighting until your final breath. There was a mild ache behind your brow and the night sky showed no signs of daybreak.

“And why have you refrained from killing me?” You finally asked, shifting back and forth and contemplating whether or not to begin running again.

“I possess no body. I am nothing but the wind and the trees and the breeze against your skin,” it hummed, cynically. “Cross the river up ahead and veer left, the path will lead you out of the forest and into the countryside where at least you will not be hunted for sport and strewn up and cut open for the creatures that dwell here to eat you alive.”

A cold chill ran up your spine and left your fingers to form fists.The spirit-like being was gone as fast as it had stumbled upon you. How did you know, you wondered idly for a moment. Its presence was absent, the air feeling more desolate and empty than it had moments before. It could very well be a trick, a way to lure you into its very trap and do exactly as it said.

You continued on to the river and went left, just as the being had told you to, as it had cooed into the shell of your ear. It was only about a mile later and you were coming into a dark clearing where animals lay sleeping along large acres of land. There were cows and sheeps first, then you saw pens of pigs and chicken coops further. Looking back, you saw how truly terrifying the forest was in comparison to the moonlit field.There were a set of yellow eyes staring out at you, but as soon as you blinked they were gone as if they were never there to begin with. While you knew you would never know, you threw a prayer up to the Mother regardless and hoped that the breeze-like thing that had most likely saved your life was at peace.

There was very little you could do besides walk along the outskirts of the land and hope to find some inclination of where to locate your court. Your court. The Dawn Court was filled with your people, people who had not seen you in five decades. The memories of your childhood were like knives in your gut, twisting and turning until finally you expelled them from your mind and breathed in deeply. The trek was long and you walked all through the night with no direction of where to go or what to do with yourself. There were not exactly any signs pointing you towards your home, or once home. Now you had no home, the camp was much more like a prison than a home to you.

“Are you lost?” A little Fae girl spoke, taking in your appearance as she found you still walking along the countryside that next morning. She did not appear to be scared, however she was very young and held a basket of wildflowers in her hand.

“Yes,” you almost cried at the sight of her, another human and a female at that. It had been fifty three years since you had encountered someone of the same sex. “Where am I?”

“I live just beyond that hill. You are in the Dawn Court,” she said wearily, pointing over and beyond the hill that sat a few hundred yards away. “Should I fetch my father to help you?”

“No,” you said, knowing well what you had done the night prior and how you appeared. “I am looking to get to the Dawn Court Palace, do you know where I might be able to find it?”

The girl, no more than nine, looked over you once again and it was as if she was assessing your soul. She drew her lips into a fine line and set the basket down to begin spouting off some directions. You nodded, taking in all of them with careful consideration and noting that the spirit had led you onto the right track for some odd reason. Once the girl had finished, she merely bowed her head and turned back towards her house.

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

The Palace was nothing like you had remembered it. It was so much brighter and broader than you recalled within the narrow escape of your child-mind. The Dawn Court Palace gleamed under the beaming sun that had been burning your skin for hours as you followed the little girl’s instructions.

It was so vast and yet it seemed to call out to you, there was a long way to get to even one of the many stairs leading up to the Palace and so many guards standing tall at every entrance you could see. There was no way in, you thought. Not when you look as you do. Would any of these men even know who you are, you wondered.

“Who goes there?” A loud voice bellowed, bringing you away from your thoughts.

Who says who goes there, you thought. Prick.

Well it looks like Cousin Thesan spared no expense in making sure no one went in unnoticed, you rolled your eyes internally and spun on your heels to meet the look of the brooding male who wielded his weapon against you. He did not recognize you, as you had expected. His eyebrow had a long scar going through it and he held a blade in his hand, waiting for an explanation.

“Stand down!” You matched his tone, standing tall while the male practically laughed in your face.

“You are lucky that I have not already gutted you for crossing into our territory–”

The sound of you swallowing hard could be heard from even where he stood. You planted your feet and let all of those lessons on looking the part of royalty run over you. The guard was cut off by your sharp and fierce voice, “I am Y/N, Princess of Dawn! Stand down or don’t. I can’t say that I really care either way, but you very well might when I cut out your tongue and feed it back down your throat.”

The man went rigid for a moment and he took in a sharp breath. He seemed to be assessing you, his eyes scanned your frame while his weapon remained as it was. A part of you wondered if he thought you were bluffing, however the dried blood seemed to tell him everything he needed to know. He maintained his authoritative stance, only drawing back to call over some of his men. He whispered something into one male’s ear and his face went blanche. He looked over you with such careful consideration and shock, his eyes wide open and doe-like from where you stood.

“You claim to be the Lost Princess?” He finally spoke, tilting his head to the side to expose a long, fleshy scar across his neck.

“Well the last that I checked–I am the only Princess of the Dawn Court, however I am most certainly not lost, sir. I do wish to speak to my cousin, though,” you requested, earnestly. “As soon as possible.”

The Lost Fucking Princess. Who even comes up with this bullshit?

One of the males who adorned guard-like clothing brought you into the Palace wearily. He did not lay a hand on you, but motioned you to walk in front of him as if you posed some sort of threat. Perhaps you did, killing Thesan had crossed your mind once or twice. The idea of watching him writhe excited you quite a bit. The thought nearly brought a smile to your lips, only managing to suppress it when you began climbing the steps.

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

The male brought you to a throne room, sunlight dancing along the walls and spilling onto the floors. Everything was so magnificent, the aura of the room was nothing short of golden. Blood boiled within you as you recalled all of the years you had wasted away to nothing, hidden in that rotting, despicable camp where all you ate was leftover meat scraps and watered-down soup for over fifty years.

Thesan sat at the forefront of the room, he wore a crown and spoke to the male at his right in a hushed whisper. It was almost as if he did not know you were here, like he was uninformed of your arrival in his court. When the male who brought you in nearly tripped over his feet to murmur into Thesan’s ear, you had your answer. Your cousin’s eyes snapped towards you in an instant, he rose to his feet immediately and you swore you could feel the blood pumping in your ears. With a hot face and white knuckles, you barreled towards him with the intent to kill.

“You promised me! You promised me!” Your magic rippled across the room as you shouted, pure rage causing the ground to shake. “You left me there to rot like vermin! How could you?”

With tunnel vision, the two men who had been holding you back were nearly invisible as the ground continued to shake violently. Thesan was silent, his eyes were wide with genuine revelation and disbelief. Thrashing and clawing and screaming was all you could do. He had taken years from you, good years that had been ripped away and stolen from you as a child.

“You’re nothing but a fucking liar, Thesan. We share blood! I am your family and you threw me out to the wolves. I was twelve years old and you abandoned me. I trusted you with my life. My life!” you cried and flinched at the guards’ hands. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

The two men who held you were sent flying backwards by an invisible force, your magic had been provoked and was now rippling off of you in waves. Thesan approached with his hands out, he still had not spoken a word. With a wave, he cleared the room and it was only the two of you left standing.

“Y/N,” he said in a soft hush. “Please just allow me to explain–”

“Explain? Explain how you brought me to your sick fucking camp when I was a girl and lied to everyone under the guise of my protection? Explain how after three months, your letters and visits stopped? Oh, perhaps you plan to explain how you left me to live with ten cursed warriors for over five decades and I have to find out six days ago that Amarantha was defeated by a human girl years ago as I still sat by idly waiting for my dear Cousin Thesan to retrieve me from my own personal living hell?” The words were like knives, piercing Thesan one after another as you resisted the urge to rip out his throat. “Explain, go ahead.”

Thesan could not believe his eyes, nor the venom spewing from your lips. He surveyed your too-thin figure and cold eyes, how they had changed so much since he had last seen you as a small girl. Everything you said was true, to some degree. He could not deny any of it, however he had not realized how the camp had treated you. He had not banished you, but relocated you for reasons of his own before Amarantha could rise to full power. When Thesan caught word of what had begun under the mountain, he made rash decisions and sacrifices that he was not proud of and would have to live with for the rest of his immortal life.

“Y/N, I did send you away for your protection. Do you believe that my brother would have let me live if I sent his only child away to live in squalor while we all reside in a palace? I sent you away because my people were being ripped from their homes and your mere existence puts a target on your back,” he said, steadily. “A Princess, the sole heir to the Dawn Court. It is unheard of. When my brother’s mate–your mother–birthed a girl, our people were ecstatic. As years passed and Amarantha began her show of power, everyone grew antsy for my heir. I tried, I remain trying to produce an heir to this court.”

You shook your head, hot tears running down your dirt-crusted cheeks. “Not good enough,” your voice cracked.

“Please, just hear my words,” he begged you. “When you were twelve years old, I assumed tensions were at their height and our people grew restless. Amarantha had begun slaughtering innocent Fae across Prythian and with no heir, whispers surfaced of the Princess of the Dawn Court. A female heir, one who reeked of power at that. Males who would never kneel before a female began to place bounties on your head, terrified that I would be slayed and there would be no one but you to resume my place.”

Thesan breathed deep, but continued. “I told my brother that the safest option would be to make you disappear. We would claim that you were hunted by Amarantha’s loyal subjects, nowhere to be found. I gathered some of my strongest men who had committed wrongdoings within my court and banished them to the camp where they would be tied until I liberated you.”

“You locked me away with criminals!” You seethed, already knowing but surprised at his willingness to utter the words freely. “How do you think your filthy, touch-starved, vile men acted once I had first bled?”

“This is where I have committed wrong,” he whispered. “It was only supposed to be a year, maybe two while I gained footing and figured out a way to take back what Amarantha had stolen from me. Three months after I sent you away, she captured the entirety of this court. Every court, save for Spring, went Under the Mountain. You were concealed, hidden so well by my wards, that she never even bothered to go looking for you. She believed that her own subjects had killed and discarded you. That was the extent at which things had gotten, she merely trusted the death of the Princess of the Dawn Court was another insignificant casualty to her reign. Everyone believed you to be dead. My letters stopped because I was trapped, my power basically nothing compared to what it once was.”

The truth washed over you slowly, blinking away tears but staying put and shaking your head at him. It was still not good enough, it would never be good enough. For fifty-three years you had known nothing but scraps and gangly men and the dirt underneath your bleeding fingernails.

“It has been years since Amarantha was defeated,” you gritted out. “Defeated by a human girl–”

“Feyre Cursebreaker, High Lady of the Night Court and human no longer. Myself and the other High Lords used our power to bring her back from death as High Fae,” he told you. “I know you will never forgive me for not retrieving you immediately, however we entered a gruesome war against Hybern and have only just begun to recover and rehabilitate. It is no excuse, I know this. I hoped by now that I would have an heir, nothing has changed in regards to how your existence might be received by this court.”

He had left you there while everyone rejoiced in their freedoms, fought on the frontlines of battle, and then even still once we had won. Nothing but pure, unadulterated rage consumed you and yet all you could muster up was a pathetic noise straight from your throat. He had done all of this because he simply was not capable of bearing a child and assumed that you’re suffering was all the more worth it if he could fuck his way to the ideal future High Lord of Dawn. All men are the same, you thought with a sickness churning within you.

“You are a sick excuse for a man,” was all you spat. “Where are my parents?”

“Dead,” he lowered his head. “They died swiftly, soon after we arrived Under the Mountain.”

The gift that just keeps on giving, you thought whilst holding back a near sob. He gazed upon you with pity, finally taking you in wholly. The blood. There was so much blood and he could tell from the scent that it did not belong solely to you.

“What of the men at the camp?”

“Dead,” you replied, just as he had. “I cannot say they went swiftly, as I slaughtered them all.”

The images of blood spewing and spilled flashed across the forefront of your mind, the way that some of them went quick and others went begging for a semblance of mercy. You looked down at your palms, flexing your fingers and feeling the energy throughout your entire body. It pulsed at the tips of your fingers, throbbed in the heels of your feet, and thrummed at the backs of your eyes. Over the years, there had been no one to teach you to manage it so more often than not it consumed you whole.

You could kill him, you let the idea wash over you. Or at least you could try. In his home with all of his warriors, it would prove difficult. He was the High Lord, your High Lord–no, death was too swift and simple. You would need time to plan out your next steps, you pondered whilst maintaining a stone cold facade. You would have to play your cards right, he would deal with you based on how you acted as you stood before him. Truthfully, the idea of living with him puts you on the brink of physical sickness. You would rather die than be forced to stay under the same roof, lips curling slightly with disgust as he gave you another look filled with shame and guilt.

“I will not stay here,” was all you spat at him. “Not here, not in this court with you, I wish to be sent elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere? Do you understand what will come of your sudden return to our lands?” Thesan’s eyes were fixed on you, his voice near hoarse. “Y/N, I know that–”

“I will not stay here. I ask this one thing of you. I will not spread word of your pathetic sterileness, nor my title to the Dawn Court if you will simply offer me this one thing. Do you not owe it to me?”

While the immense grief and pain in your voice was authentic, you made sure to create the illusion of your complete and utter wreckage. Mustering up tears, you had to get out of this place. There was no possibility of your survival if not, not even at the hands of these so-called people out for your blood–but at the hands of yourself. Every bit of you was exhausted, conveying complete and utter devastation into your eyes as he debated your request.

Do you not owe it to me?

Thesan rubbed violently at the bridge of his nose and nodded to himself, he squeezed his eyes shut and for a moment you remembered the admiration you once felt for him. Admiration turned into blazing resentment and rage that had nearly created an earthquake. He wouldn’t force you to reside here under him, would he?

“I will do my best at making other… arrangements,” said Thesan after a few moments of tense silence. “I make no promises, as we may very well be approaching the brink of another war, however in the meantime you should wash up.”

A breath of relief escaped you, “what of the guards who know who I am? I told them.”

“I should like to call in a favor from Rhysand,” he murmured, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

.·:*¨☆◦✦◦☆¨*:·.

“Leave me, please” you said to the servants gently, thanking them for the filled tub and fresh gown that was laid out for you within the spare bedroom and adjacent bathing room.

Everything was so prim and proper and doused in sunlight, it made you nostalgic for a life that once was. The water was steaming, layers of blood and grime covering you as you sunk down into the tub. The magic of the tub was forced to refresh itself almost as soon as you sat, growing murky immediately as you began to scrub your skin raw.

Would it be easier to drown yourself, you breathed a shallow breath. No, someone was posted outside of the bedroom door listening in. A guard, most likely. He would hear, putting an end to your pathetic excuse of a suicide attempt and then Thesan would never let you leave. Or maybe he would, perhaps your untimely death was just what he hoped for in order to rid himself of the problems you presented him with.

Getting clean felt impossible, even with the tub enchanted to replace its filthy water. Your hair was oily and your skin remained covered in a film of grease. It took over an hour just for you to feel somewhat clean. At the camp, there had thankfully been a tub with running water and an enchantment of certain supplies so you never went without. Food, however, was hunted for you and everyone else. As the only female, every night you received what was left on the bone of whatever animal they had slaughtered in the nearby woods, eating last time and time again.

One of the servants came in to help you dress in the gown custom to the Dawn Court, it fell to your ankles and glistened with what you could have sworn was pure sunlight. The tall woman braided your hair back and applied rogue to your cheeks and an oil to your lips. As you gazed into the mirror before you, you could hardly recognize yourself for the first time in five decades. There was something so regal about you, a light cascading off of you like an aura of gold. Thesan possessed the same coloring, the light pouring out from him in bouts of power.

The woman knew who you were, you could tell that much from the way her eyes danced across your reflection. She said nothing, though. You thanked her, smiling softly as if she had not just seen you covered in days old blood and filth. The Lost Princess, you recalled what the male had referred to you as outside. She has no idea what to think of you, it seems. Maybe that was for the best, perhaps you were better as the shadow of a girl who once was but no longer existed. Instead, some sort of killer prowled beneath your now eternally crimson stained skin.

“The High Lord has called for you,” the woman said softly, pulling you from your thoughts and causing your eyes to drift to meet her gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

Once you had begun your trek back to the same room as earlier, the sun had begun to fall and the sky was painted endless shades of pink and orange. There was so much open space, all of the windows gaping to allow for as much sunlight as possible during the daytime. You had never felt so exhausted, eyes burning from the lack of sleep you had acquired on your journey and the use of power earlier on in the day.

When you entered the room, Thesan was in conversation with a man that you could only assume was Rhysand. He was attractive in an almost inconceivable way, like one of the Gods. None of the males at the camp had resembled anything like him, no one in the Dawn Court resembled anything like him. Lucky High Lady, you thought mindlessly. Rhysand seemed to chuckle at nothing, turning to meet your gaze.

“Princess,” he greeted you with the friendly upturning of his lips. “Welcome back from the dead is in order, I suppose. I’m Rhys.”

“Funny,” you huffed a stiff laugh at him and extended a hand for him to grasp. Power ricocheted off of Rhysand in a way that caused your stomach to flip. “Y/N.”

His eyes simmered with something like pity mixed with amusement, he was not blind to the fact that you still had not looked Thesan in his eyes. Rhysand had been steadfast in arriving at the Dawn Court, his solemn look told you that he had been briefed on some of what was going on. How much, though? What had Thesan deemed important enough to share and what was determined as insignificant. Clearly as you had been cast away as insignificant, he could not be trusted to relay information.

“Rhysand has consulted with his High Lady and they have agreed to offer you a place to stay in the Night Court for as long as you should require it,” Thesan informed you.

“At what cost?”

“No cost,” Rhysand assured you at once. “Thesan has… told me of your circumstances–”

“What circumstances?” You demanded, cutting him off. “What did he tell you?”

There was a tense silence as you grew flustered and aggravated by your cousin. Thesan knew nothing of your circumstances, he knew absolutely nothing of what you had endured. Rhysand had strangely given you a look of understanding, it was as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Like he had been inside of your mind, reliving the experiences with you.

“He told me of your power, he told me you have yet to learn how to wield it as well. He says that he senses you may have inherited more than just his healing gifts, but that the nature of your identity is sensitive. I admit that I do have to agree with him in concealing your return, Princess–for now, at least,” Rhyand only looked to you, his words carefully chosen so as not to upset you. “I have a house in Velaris, the city where I live, it houses three people as of late. My two brothers, Azriel and Cassian, and my mate’s sister Nesta. You would stay there, it is secluded enough that you will have as much privacy as you desire. I spoke with my healer Madja, she has agreed to allow you to work under her in an apprenticeship of sorts. She’s one of the best, not just in Velaris but anywhere in Prythian. I feel you both may be able to benefit from each other, her experience and your magic. My cousin Mor has offered to train with you once she arrives home from Vallahan on business, until then one of my brothers–”

You cut him off again, “Training? I do not wish to offend you, but why should I need your family to train me?”

“Y/N,” he began, assessing how honest he should be. “You have no muscle built up whatsoever and considering the fact that you have no hold on your own power–I suspect that your ‘training’ consists of the intent to kill and luck. In Velaris you would learn to fight and hopefully hone some of that power.”

It was this or nothing, you knew that. Either you would remain in the Dawn Court, or you would go with Rhysand and figure it out from there. Thesan’s face was now unreadable as you looked between both of the High Lords.

“All the while I hide away so that no one knows my true identity?”

“No,” Rhysand responded. “You have matured, when you left this court you were only a girl. No one in Velaris will question you once I dim some of that power coming off of you. My inner circle knows your true identity, however to everyone else you will be ordinary High Fae. This is partially why you’ll work under Madja.”

Nodding slowly, you consider your options or lack thereof. Rhysand seemed genuine enough, you thought to yourself and could have swore he smiled slightly. Giving Thesan a once over, you met those violet eyes and nodded slowly.

“Alright, I’ll go to Velaris.”

#azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader

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