#you’ll never be free of me (dark lovers) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atzfilm · 2 months

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— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [6] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yeosang x reader, wooyoung x reader; 12.7k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore, worship references (?), smut

Chapter 6

You've grown to notice that it is never truly cold in the forest around their home. It feels as if it’s a warm bubble, unaffected by outside elements. None of the faeries ever mention it, probably accustomed to the odd temperature. You yourself are not, jacket wrapped around your waist as you walk through the small path Yeosang has taken you on. His clothing is loose, steps gliding along the slow breeze. All of them are quiet when they walk, barely the sound of a leaf crunching beneath their feet. He does not move as fast as San did when you arrived. In fact, there's little space between you, his skin close to brushing against your own.

Since you have known him, he has been indifferent to your presence. Oftentimes mulling in silence whenever you two spent time together, or glued to whatever object was around at the time. Being alone with him didn't happen often – most occasions he'd have San tied to his side, fingers wrapped around his waist, moving where he moved. Or Wooyoung lingering around you. So you're quite surprised he even wants you out here alone with him. You aren't close at all.

“The house could be quite a nuisance,” he says softly, hand sliding in yours as you climb around a protruding rock. Now that you know he can feel what you're thinking, the coincidences of him answering your thoughts aren't so shocking anymore. You expect him to let go once you’ve steadied yourself but he doesn’t, fingers entwined. “Everyone is watching your every move. San unwilling to leave your side for even a breath,” he smiles, slightly toothy grin. “Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s like he’s attached. Each time I leave the room he follows,” you say, and Yeosang snorts, nodding.

“Seonghwa warned him that he is to keep his eye on you. None of us know when you’ll–” he snaps his fingers on his free hand– “Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” There’s little ground to defend yourself on, but still. You can barely remember what happened then. It was a life or death situation. You doubt it'd happen now. “Just don’t try to kill me or anything.”

“Is that a threat?” he teases, brow raised. “Not to worry. I doubt any of us would do such a thing. We have morals, you know. Even as Unseelie.”

“San was explaining that to me. Between the chaos there is comfort. I can see it when you're around each other. You tease, but you do care. In different ways.”

“We do. Our inane element of chaos is fairly simple. We reign terror on human lives. It has lessened over the years now since humans aren't as inept as before. It takes time for us to ruin their lives,” he glances at you from the side. “You may witness it in person eventually.”

“Just like how you've caused it on mine?” You barely speak above a whisper, but Yeosang catches the irritated murmur, laughing softly as he helps you over a fallen tree. The sound is a bit eerie under these circumstances. You are trapped and he knows it so clearly. His laughter is evident enough of that.

“Precisely. We are almost there, human. Watch your step,” he pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your body, fingers light against your waist. Oddly it reminds you of Wooyoung – neither of the two's actions in consideration of the person they bother. In a way you believe that while Wooyoung touches you whenever he likes on purpose, Yeosang fails to realize there is an issue at all. He lets go when you enter the field, gracefully crossing his legs as he rests on the flower petals. You sit next to him with far less elegance, taking in your surroundings.

It is strange to see anything like this in the forest nearest your town. A small waterfall and a body of water sit in front of you, the sound of the liquid splashing filling the night. You pay no mind to how Yeosang watches you, your interest in the natural structures in front of you. A group of deer bend their necks, drinking the freshly cycled water from the pond.

“Hongjoong showed me this place when we first arrived,” Yeosang explains, head resting in his hands. “He told me that I can come whenever I like to clear my mind or hide away. He hasn't shown up here since, I'm sure out of respect for me. If you'd like I can come with you here whenever you need. I thought it would bring you some comfort amongst everything else.”

It does. Your emotions weigh heavy on you. Missing your family, mourning your lost relationship. Hurt sitting inside you with everything that's happened. You haven't gotten the chance to really let that feeling settle because you haven't had time to yourself. Though now you technically still don't, Yeosang doesn't speak. He doesn't interrupt the silence. No, all he does is stretch out his fingers, a book appearing on his palm. He flips through the pages, filling the air between the two of you.

“Thank you.”

The grass beneath you is comforting as you lie back, eyes closed. The sound of a page flipping continues.

“Thanking me is not needed.”

—

“Where did you take her?”

Yeosang barely looks up from his literature, a sigh escaping from his lips. Perhaps the two of you should have stayed out much longer. “Welcome home.”

“You can't just take her out of the house, Yeosang. We have to keep an eye on her at all times. You can't be alone without any of us near.” Seonghwa's voice is frustrated as he opens the fridge, digging through the drawers. “If she attempts to kill you we're too far away to stop it. You have to think these things through before committing to it.”

“The human isn't going to kill me, hyung,” Yeosang murmurs, frowning as he reads the next line. “Oh what a pity.”

“What?” Seonghwa turns, seeing his mate staring at the book.

Yeosang looks up, pointing to the page, “They died before meeting. They've been waiting years but they both died. It's horrific,” he shakes his head, continuing to flip through. It only gets Seonghwa more frustrated, frown on his lips soon to permanently embed itself in his face.

“You are not listening to me–”

“Oh, but I am listening perfectly, Seonghwa. I just wonder when you will finally let one of us know what's on your mind. And why you continue to lie about her to us,” Yeosang hums. “Maybe then I will give you my full, undivided attention. But for now, since you will likely respond with another lie, I will continue to read.” he looks up from his book, eyes resting on his. It makes the lump in Seonghwa's throat grow. Disappointment. Yeosang isn't like the others in that sense. He's hidden with his emotions, only letting his frustration or irritation through individual talks. Never letting another person around hear it. So now, even though they are both alone at the moment, it hurts Seonghwa to see that even with this privacy, Yeosang does not let his true feelings slip out. His hurt must be larger than he can comprehend.

It's not like Seonghwa doesn't want to say it. But solidifying his suspicions without being one hundred percent sure would only be useless. Turn them in a direction that they don't need to be in right now. They should be focused on the growing threat of Seelie entering their land, not you. You would just be a distraction between it all if you are human. And if Seonghwa is right about what you really are, then you're an asset to their team. If his spark all can fall under your charms without much effort, the Seelie are sure to fall for it. And they could finally subdue them once and for all. The only glaring problem with his plan, that is, is if you turn on them. It is the main reason why he dislikes whenever you’re left alone with just one.

“It is for a reason, Yeosang.” Seonghwa holds the tangerine in his hand, slowly peeling off the skin. “I hope you can understand.”

“We don't hide things from one another,” Yeosang says, writing into the pages of his novel. “So if you expect sympathy from me you've gone to the wrong mate. Perhaps Hongjoong, or Jongho will give you what you desire.” His brows furrow, frustration etching itself into his skin. “Now you can go. I'm getting distracted.”

Seonghwa places a tangerine in front of Yeosang's folded legs, leaving the room altogether. Once he is gone, Yeosang grabs the fruit. He stares at it, thumb running along the surface. It pierces the skin, juices sliding down his skin, spilling onto the book that rests in his lap. He sighs in frustration, tossing the fruit into the sink several meters away.

“Everything would be solved if she were dead,” he murmurs.

—

“Three.”

“Nope.”

“Less than that?”

“Much less.”

“It can't just be me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grins, palm holding up his head as he looks up at you. “It's surprising, no? But it's true. All I've ever wanted, no, desired, was other faeries or creatures beyond your comprehension. Humans are only playthings to me. Meals at the end of the day. Nothing more.”

The thought makes your stomach want to fold in on itself. “You're joking?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighs, letting his head flop down to your sheets. “Your scent is all consuming, solaris. No other human has affected me in such a way. And it wouldn't make sense to have a human partner when all I'd do is just kill them in the end.” His eyes shift to you. “I wouldn't do that to you though, I like you too much.”

“How wonderful,” Sarcasm drips from your words as he laughs. Easily speaking of killing humans, as if he's talking about playing a game. Some things you'll never get used to when hanging out with Unseelie. Their lack of care for living still makes you feel queasy. Your one murder haunts you every night, but he, no, they, thrive in it. You just cannot imagine it.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” Yeosang stands on the outside of the door, arms crossed against his chest. He nods at you, expression surprisingly warm. Since that night, Yeosang often spent time with you. He hasn't said much, as usual, but he sought you out for quiet. Wooyoung being here right now is likely the opposite of what he wants.

Wooyoung's head rolls to the side, eyes narrowing at his mate. “You bother her too much. Give solaris some space.”

“You're in her room every night,” Yeosang deadpans.

“Yes, and? She enjoys me around her, I liven up the place! Don't you enjoy me?” His pout matches the whiny tone of his voice. In the beginning it was mildly irritating, but you do enjoy it now. Not that you'd admit it to him. He'd never leave your side at that rate.

“No.”

“Solaris!” He whines, tucking himself further into your sheets. It would be humorous if it weren’t for the look Yeosang gives him.

“Leave,” Yeosang says, his voice firmer now. “Mingi and San need you.”

“On a scale of not needed at all to they're currently dying, where does the need of my presence fall–”

“Go, now.”

Mingi. You haven't seen him in a while, assuming that he was on a mission. Knowing that he's around makes you wonder a bit. He hasn't greeted you since you've arrived again. Was he afraid of seeing you? No, that couldn't be. You were afraid of him, not the other way around.

Wooyoung painfully drags himself off your sheets, sending you a quick look before moving past Yeosang. His hand reaches out and grips Wooyoung’s bicep, their eyes meeting. They often communicate without speaking, gazes flicking over one another’s before Wooyoung leaves down the hall. Yeosang turns to look at you, exhaustion easily lining his gaze. Still you envy their connection, unlike anything you’d ever experience yourself. You wouldn’t want to become an Unseelie, but their devotion to each other is formidable. If only your kind were the same. Perhaps if humans were equally bonded to one another, there’d be less infighting and more respect spread across the Earth. But of course, just wishful thinking.

“Hongjoong asked for you,” Yeosang says.

“The man of the hour,” you murmur, sighing. “Why can’t he just come here himself?”

“Believe it or not,” Yeosang smiles. “He is a bit more busy than you think. He didn’t technically ask for me to come find you, but I doubt he would find the time to leave himself. And Yunho is too preoccupied to come here. I’m the only one free at the moment.”

You lift yourself up from your seat, stepping past the small gap between Yeosang and the doorway. He shifts slightly, arm brushing against yours as you make your way around. He does not follow you promptly. You turn to look at him, his sight glued on yours.

“Something the matter?”

His expression changes, and he merely shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll lead the way.”

—

Yeosang leaves you with him, fingers brushing against the back of your hand as he disappears down the hall. He did not try to start a conversation as you two were walking alone, briefly glancing at you from time to time. Whatever you did moments ago must have bothered him enough to not even attempt to dissolve the awkwardness resting between both of you. But you didn’t either, so there’s that.

You slowly enter, your steps echoing as you move further inside. You’ve been inside Hongjoong’s office once before, but never in his room. It is nothing like you expected it to be - no torture devices hanging from the walls. Instead, vinyls resting on clear displays, cds in between each one. In fact, there were several instruments decorated all about, some you couldn’t even recognize yourself. Many likely hundreds of years old. This is his place, his mind. The thought of peering into his personal space, his mind, even if ever briefly, makes you anxious, goosebumps rising on your skin as you take yourself further in. It can’t be that bad.

He at least tolerates you enough to have you still around.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to the side, Hongjoong hunched over at his desk, pen dragging across stationary as he writes. He does not look up so you can only assume he heard your loud steps enter his room. The notebook he writes in is well-worn, corners curved in and cover peeling. His eyes briefly meet yours after you don’t speak, brow raised in expectation. “Well?”

“Yeosang told me you wanted to see me.”

He rolls his eyes, staring at his writing before ripping out a page, crumbling it up and snapping his fingers. The paper engulfed in flames before flickering into ashes, sliding off his table and into the bin beneath. “Yeosang tells everyone a lot of things, that does not mean it’s true. You’ll learn to not listen to his words after a while. He’s quite mischievous,” he murmurs.

“Then I am not needed?” You’re thankful, really. Being in his space, his scent, creates a strange feeling within you. There’s a reason you avoid him, more than just being afraid.

Hongjoong stands, throwing his notebook off his table. You take a step back just as he moves forward, too fast for you to leave his sight. His hands grip your body, pulling you close to him.

“Personal space is a thing, Hongjoong.”

“You want me to speak to you, truly?”

You try pulling away but his hold only tightens. So instead of fighting a losing battle, you speak through tight lips, “Say what you have to say.”

“What is it you want me to say? That I would follow you everywhere, until your steps become my own, until your breaths mingle with mine? There's no need for that. There is no where you will go that will be where I am not. It is all but that simple.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against the skin. It takes everything in you not to flinch. “That is all I need, and it is all you’ve wanted. We will no longer be separated; you won’t be left alone. Is that what you want?”

What is he even saying? The more he trails on, the more fear begins to circulate your veins. He does not seem to notice it, so he continues when greeted with silence. “Soobin is no longer an issue since he’s gone. You’re free to desire whomever you want without him holding you back.”

His name pulls you out of your confusion almost instantaneously. “He was my partner, Hongjoong,” your brows furrow. “He’s the reason I’m even in this town in the first place. Why would he be holding me back? I love him.” And it’s true. There has been a bit of wavering in your love, and he broke your heart not too long ago. Mourning a love lost is one thing, but losing that love for him completely is entirely different.

You don’t see the way his mouth twitches at the word love. What you do see, though, is the way his eyes narrow. “He’s gone.”

“Love doesn’t just disappear when I no longer see him.”

“Then how will it? Must he come to you and say he hates you? Will he have to attempt to hurt you for it to go away? Why do humans continue to love someone who’s left them? Why can’t you let him go?” What else does he have to do? Should he have manipulated the human’s mind before they killed him? Made him break your heart? He thought Mingi’s appearance was enough to stop your mind from lingering on him. But it seems like it has done little.

You stare at Hongjoong as he loses himself in his thoughts. You’ve believed in inherent goodness, but there’s always been this underlying fear of them, just for the nature of them being Unseelies alone. Knowing that despite all of what they say, it’s something they can’t change. It’s something you’ve settled with. But hearing his words, the way his eyes shake as he looks at you… something tells you that he’s off. That despite their comfort and sympathy, they know what happened to Soobin.

An even smaller part of you believes that they’ve done something to him.

“Why do you care?”

He does not respond, waiting for you to continue. In the position you are right now, it’s hard not to.

“It’s hard to,” you explain, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve known him since we were children, and even if I didn’t love him in the romantic sense, I still would love him as a former friend. It hurts to just lose a friendship like that.”

"If I killed it would you forget him?"

You still. His touch is ever so delicate as he waits for your response. Eyes warm, blinking slowly. It's as if he didn't just say he'd do something so heinous, so unthinkable.

"What?" Is all you can respond with.

He leans closer to you, barely a breath away from your lips. His eyes flick over your face, before landing back on your eyes. "If I killed your weak, miserable, disgusting, incompetent, lackluster ex-partner, as you call it, will you forget then? Will you mourn its loss then come into my arms? Will you love me as you love it?"

It. Perhaps his mask slid down just a bit.

"You're out of your mind."

"I am very much sane, y/n. It's a simple question with an even simpler answer."

"No."

"No…?"

"I wouldn't forgive you if you killed him, Hongjoong."

He rolls his eyes, a huff echoing around the room. "How boring and mundane. I thought you were more amusing than that." He moves away from you now, grabbing his notebook he threw across the room. “Yeosang was right, I did want to speak to you. Not yet, but I suppose I have little reason to keep it to myself. Seonghwa suspects that you are not human.”

He moves on from the moment as if it never happened, as if he did not threaten your old partner. The subject change easily distracts you though, the idea so otherworldly that you scoff. Hongjoong snickers at the sound, standing up. “You make that incredulous sound but Seonghwa has rarely ever been wrong in his findings. You may not be as human as you think.”

“I’m only human, Hongjoong. There’s nothing else to it.”

“That you know of,” he adds, placing his book back on his table. “You’ve lived as a human your whole life you know nothing other than that. Of course you’d think the thought silly.”

“What do you want me to say? First you threaten my old partner and now you say that I’m not human? Do you want me to beg at your knees and tell you that it’s not true?”

“The thought of you on your knees in front of me isn’t unappealing,” he chirps.

“You’re,” you hold your tongue. It’s not the smartest thing to do - insulting an Unseelie in their territory. Hongjoong is unhinged already, no need to push him further into his madness. But you cannot help yourself. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugs, “That’s not the worst insult I’ve ever heard. You've overstayed your welcome, you can go.” His hand waves you off, giving you his back completely. Though you expect nothing less from him, it still feels humiliating. But there's nothing you can do. Not now. You decide it's best to just leave completely, door slamming behind you as you exit the room. Yeosang lingers outside, book closing when you walk past him. He reaches out for your arm but you shove his touch off, making your way to your room.

You don't quite notice how hard you’ve pushed him, his body thumping against the wood. Yeosang looks down at his hand. How his fingers curl into themselves. You pushed him off. Strength formidable to his own with just a spike in your anger. He does not follow you but instead, enter the room you just left.

—

“He is an Unseelie. It is not unlike him to thrive off of your anger and frustration. It's tantalizing, the energy oozing from humans. It is fun for us,” Wooyoung's laying on your bed once again, arms folded beneath his head, eyes on the ceiling. “It tastes wonderful, though not as good as fear.”

“Doesn't really ease my nerves,” you say, flipping through the book he handed you. It's something he grabbed from Jongho, the scrawny writing etched into the pages. You snicker at the jabs he adds in, his notations growing more humorous as you turn pages. It's distracting enough for now. A hand covers the writing, Wooyoung's pout forcing you to stop. You shut the book, placing it on your side table. “He is annoying, Wooyoung. I don't think I'll last here long with him constantly saying shit and me not being able to say anything back.”

“You can argue with him, solaris. He won't kick you out.” He sees your expression, sighing. “We all do it, and none of us have left yet–”

“You are his mates, his spark. He wouldn't throw you out because of an argument. I have nothing left if I leave, Wooyoung. My family would be in danger, Soobin would be in danger, right when I step outside someone is waiting to kill me. It's exhausting to think about.”

“You have to learn to put yourself first instead of worrying about others,” he says. “And your family is as safe as they can be right now. They do not remember you, and you’ve been pulled from their lives. If a Seelie truly digs for it they will find them, but we will know before anything happens,” Wooyoung presses his finger against his temple. “I’ve got them on my radar.”

“You’re only confusing me more.”

“A spell, solaris. I’m keeping my eye on them every second. You’ll know if anything is amiss. Unfortunately though, I’d rather not update you on mundane things. It’ll make letting them go harder to bear.”

You do not agree with his method of lessening your worry, but you’d rather not argue with another Unseelie, too distraught from the last conversation to probe any further. You sink yourself deeper into the seat, closing your eyes. His silence is enough to make you open a lid, meeting the eyes of the Unseelie who continues to stare. You shake your head, closing them once more.

“Taking a picture would be better than you just staring.”

“Is that a joke or can I really take a photo?”

This time both of your eyes open, moving to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot, the devilish grin still on his face as he laughs. “I was kidding.”

“How unfortunate.”

You hum in agreement, eyes closing again. Since Wooyoung is often lingering around your room and having time to yourself is only reserved for late nights, San hasn’t really come around anymore. Sometimes he’d show here and there, but only for a quick once over and disappearing back to wherever he spends his time. It’s why you’ve grown used to Wooyoung threatening to tear your door down if you don’t let him in. Sure, it’s a bit concerning and mildly threatening, but he hasn’t done anything nefarious. Flirting here and there, maybe a bit of annoying banter, but you enjoy it. He’s one of your only companions that you have, even if you were essentially forced to live with him.

Your mother wouldn’t let you out of her sight if she knew.

“Do you like me around, solaris?” he asks after a moment.

“No.”

“If that is truly what you think, you don’t have to say yes and allow me to enter your room if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Nope. You don’t want this conversation to happen now. Not when you’re still figuring this out, trying to decipher what your feelings are for him. “I’m… fine with you being around, Wooyoung. You’re fun to hang around with.”

“As friends?” He asks. You hear the creak of your bed and immediately open your eyes. He sits on the edge of it, eyes looking through the open porch door. He does not look at you and yet, you feel like his attention is focused on the beats of your heart, the sound of your breaths. “Do you consider me a friend?”

“I don’t know.”

And it is true. You’re not sure how to classify your relationship with him. You’re friends, maybe. But it would be a lie if you were just that. He’s open with his own feelings, how much he wants you to want him. You just… don’t understand how he could want you so badly when he has seven other mates to focus on. And from what you know, despite Hongjoong’s slip of information, you’re a human. There’s nothing truly special about you aside from your little blip a while ago.

“Are you afraid of me?”

This is one you can answer with ease. “Yes.”

He turns around to look at you. It’s hard to see his face, the sun shining on the back of his head draping his face in darkness. You can barely see through the rays yourself. You watch as he stands, a slight step towards you. You follow his movements, though making no move to back up or go forward.

“That’s good, to be afraid of me,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you are not as clueless as we’ve previously thought. Being on guard around us, holding your feelings close. It is good.”

“What are you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“What I’m getting at is that you fear us, I can see it. I see how you interact with everyone, with me. But we both know how you feel about me. Even if you cannot say it yourself.” he moves even closer to you. But instead of standing in front of you, he slowly goes down on his knees. “If I am so terrifying to you, will this change things? My submission to you?”

He reaches up, his hands slowly holding yours in his grip as he places them on either side of his cheek. His eyelashes flutter once they touch his skin, a slow, clear groan escaping his parted lips. “It could be so easy for us. You could be mine, and I yours,” he whines.

“You have mates, Wooyoung. There’s no need for me.”

“They do not mind my yearn for you, if that is what you are worried about. None of them do. We all love each other differently, in different ways. My care for you is nothing like my care for them, but it does not have to be. You are different.”

Oh no.

You hold his face in your hands, fingers shakily stroking the tan of his skin, brushing against the mole beneath his eyes. They remain focused on you, lips trembling beneath each caress. You can hear your heart in your ears, pumping violently against your ribcage. It is familiar. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

You might just be in love with him.

And it is terrifying.

The revelation is alarming, swelling. It frightens you each passing second. You love him dearly. How has he worked himself into your heart? Is this coercion? Maybe he’s manipulated you to the point of no return. It is reasonable to think so. Before you were terribly frightened of his presence around you, aware that at any moment they may decide to drag their lengthened nails into your chest, killing you. And yet here you sit, Wooyoung crouched beneath you, his nails leaving indents in your thighs from how desperate his hold is, his warm, aroused eyes flicking between yours. The gasps leave your lips as his hands travel closer and closer to you. Right now you are not as afraid of him, not completely.

How could you love someone so easily when you lost the man you thought you were going to marry not too long ago? It should have been harder to fall for his charms. It shouldn’t have happened so quickly at all; and yet here you are.

Your thumb presses lightly into his lips, the flick of his tongue eagerly dragging on the pad of it. Never in your life have you seen such desperation from a partner, such eagerness to have you. It is a wonder you’ve held yourself strong for such a long time when he is so willing under your touch. Is it sinister to want this to continue? Knowing who he is, who they are.

“You are pretty,” the words leave your mouth without much thought. His body shudders at your words, leaning forward, head pressing into your stomach. His hands leave your thigh, wrapping around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Am I?” His breaths hitch, yearning lining and enfolding itself around two simple words. You have yet to kiss him, to taste his mouth, and he is distressed for you. Touch on your skin, but it is not enough for him. His head tilts up, pupils covering his irises completely. “Am I pretty to you?”

He slowly rises, warm, trembling body moving closer and closer to you. His hands stay on your hips as he hovers over your body, chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands leave his face and cup his neck instead. You are not unaware of how his breath hitches as you hold him. He leans forward, lips lightly brushing against your chin.

“Am I?” There is a pause in his movements. His unwavering despair to have you is not unknown, but he pauses. As if waiting for your approval to move further. A bit humorous how now he is holding himself back when he is so close to having you. “I want you to say it to me, solaris. Tell me.”

“You’re pretty, Wooyoung.”

His lips waste little time in covering yours, tongue entering your mouth immediately. His lips tremble as he tastes you, hands moving to the back of the chair to hold himself steady. The freestanding furniture slides against the floor, hitting the wall behind it as he pushes himself closer and closer to you.

You are overcome with the feeling of not knowing him, of not knowing his touch, his desperate breaths mixing with yours, his teeth sinking into your lips, begging for reprieve. He almost swallows you whole with his eagerness, hands wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. His strength lifts you from the seat entirely, your legs wrapping around him as he presses you against the wall. He lets his lips leave yours, tongue tracing down the slide of your neck, moans loud. It is not surprising he is a vocal lover, and for a moment embarrassment settles within you at the thought of one of the others entering the home, hearing his voice echoing down the halls.

“I do not care,” he murmurs against your skin, “Let them listen to me worshiping you.”

You're unable to speak.

“Would it bother you? For them to hear me kiss you from your neck to your feet, everything in between? Is it so wrong for me to want my palms to burn beneath your touch?”

You laugh at the suggestion, “I am no God that you’d be burned by my touch.”

He smiles against your skin, “How is that possible if I pray to you each night? Do they not say to worship in the low light?” his lips press against the tips of your fingers, teeth dragging across the skin. “You should have heard my prayers, solaris. I am an extremely devoted servant to you.”

“Wooyoung,” Somewhere in between sacrilegious and obscene, his chest rises with laughter.

“For you alone I am weak, solaris. For you, I will crawl, I will beg,” his lips leave your fingers, “San is not the only Unseelie who is violently devoted to the brink of utter obsession, solaris. Can you not feel mine?” His tongue drags against the skin of your collarbone, your body trembling beneath the wet touch. His hands have never left your hips, nails digging into the skin. You are too involved to feel how they slightly puncture, his longing words distracting. “Can you feel how devout I am to you? How gloriously blessed I am to be touching your skin?”

His hands release you for the briefest of moments, wrapping around your torso as he moves away from the wall. The walls around you shift, your mind lost for a moment. You blink, only a moment to glance around and see that you're in fact, no longer in your room. That he pulled you through the thin threads of reality into his. Wooyoung is ever so impatient, letting your body fall against his bedsheets.

“I think I prayed enough,” he continues, staring down at you. “You might have finally heard me beg to see you like this. How lucky I am to be the one to see you like this,” he leans over, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” you say. The words come out with certainty you didn't know you possessed for him, breathless and accepting of anything he may suggest. His lips lift, but you see that it does not entirely reach his eyes. You lean up, and he sits back down on the floor. Looking up at you. Just as you're about to sit yourself next to him, his hand stops you, shaking his head.

“I need you to tell me what to do to you.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“I can't do it myself. I can't do anything to you myself.” The tone of his voice is strange now. It is as desperate as before, but there is something else between the words. You do not know him well enough to even guess what it may be, why he truly needs you to guide him. But his despair is apparent, the way his hands tremble as they begin to hold your thighs, tears coating the brim of his lids. It is merely a guess, but it feels like he can only move further with your exact words. Your precise permission.

It should not frighten you how much control, even if facetious, you have over him.

“Please solaris.”

“I have to?” You whisper, and he nods.

“It is as I have said. I follow your word.” His hold is lighter now as he waits. “I cannot indulge in your sweetness without permission.”

You grow weary as he continues his explanation.

“The corruption is not merely just a surface level. None of the Unseelie can, not without word from the other partner. Though we reign in chaos, we cannot do activities like this without explicit permission. I need you, I do. But I need you to need me too.” His touch is claw-like, fingertips tracing the marks upon your skin, lips tantalizing as they drag over your knee, breathes tickling the small hairs. “Do you need me?”

You have only been the sun to him. It is no wonder he is so vehement on you aching for him a tenth of how he craves you. You can see it in his eyes, the darkened gaze settling on you, the cage preventing him from moving further. The thought is comforting perhaps, though you'd never suggest that he'd do such a thing, but knowing that Unseelie are unable to force themselves upon someone. Nature is still balanced.

You are the sun to him, his solaris. What he is to you…

You have yet to figure out.

He nods at your question long forgotten, hands unmoving as you lean down. He holds his breath as you place your hand at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to entirely look at you. Submitting to you.

“I want you all over me, Wooyoung.”

His hands drag your legs forward, thighs spread apart. His body could crack a hole in the floor with how much he trembles in anticipation. His fingers change, nails lengthening. You watch in awe as they turn into claws, easily sliding through the material of your shorts, tossing it to the side.

“I've thought endlessly of how I would have you beneath me,” the words are barely let out as he pulls you closer to him, arousal dripping from his words. “Your lips desperately pleading for me, wanting me. How you would let me do anything to you.” His words are coated in lust, lips hovering over where you desire him most. “Can I taste you, y/n?”

“Please.”

His lips cover your clit, smacking together from the wetness that clings to them. Your fingers glide into his soft locks, tugging lightly as his tongue enters you. His moans into you are loud, the tug in your stomach tightening, worsening when you feel his fingers gripping your thighs, tongue finding your most sensitive point with ease.

You attempt to lift your head to see him, your gaze falling on his helmet of hair between your thighs, nestled. Soft whines spilled from your lips as you place your head back down on the sheets, the silk forcing your touch to only grip him. Your thighs tighten as you beg him for something you’re not sure of, his movements continuing until you tug a bit harder on his hair to pull him away. His shadow slides up your form, “I’m not just done with you, solaris.”

He lifts your head, pressing a light kiss just beneath your ear. “I haven’t had enough of you yet. You are godly, and yet I cannot help but sin,” his breath was hot as he exhales onto your skin, goosebumps left in his wake as he moves back to where he once was. His fingers tremble slightly against your skin, his hooded eyes resting on yours as he leaned back down, lips wrapped around your clit once more.

Wooyoung’s hand grips and tugs at your thigh. You blink once more, a field of clovers beneath the two of you. The evening sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees, the sunlight leaving a streak across his cheeks, brown eyes lighter. He practically glows, eyes shining with need, tongue between his lips to softly flick over your bud. The pull in your cunt grows once more, stronger and stronger as his eyes flutter close. Leaves rustle, a warm breeze brushing against your skin.

“My solaris, how do I shine for you?” he whispers. The simple sentence along the return of his lips to your lower ones make your muscles grow tight, a soft moan vibrating up your throat once relief and warmth began rushing beneath your skin. Wooyoung holds you close as you tremble, lips still wrapped around you as you climax once more, unable to let your grip on his hair go, pressing him harshly into you.

His eyes are warm as they look up at you, your body covered with your shirt, chest rising and falling slowly. His lips are slow, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, “how are you? still with me?”

You swallow slowly, struggling to find yourself after what happened. A few seconds pass before you can speak, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He laughs, continuing the seemingly never-ending drag of his soft lips up her stomach, his fingers pushed under your shirt to glide it up. They’re soft, warm as your lift your hands away from his hair and up, allowing him to see all of you. The last person that’s seen you this vulnerable was Soobin, and before that… not many. His eyes are glazed over as he takes in your exposed chest, his index finger tickling your skin as he lightly moves around the flesh of your breast. “Just for me?” He leans forward, cheek pressed against the soft flesh, trembling. “You’re more than what I’ve ever imagined.”

“Wooyoung…” Your mouth is dry as you let his name leave your lips, the word coming out rougher than you intended it to. He groans, shaking his head slightly.

“I would never tire of hearing you say my name like that,” he murmurs. “It is a shame the others cannot hear since we are so far.”

You look around as he slips his fingers into one of your free hands. The field is small, likely near where Yeosang brings you every once in a while. The thought makes you wonder – he did say that no one knew of the place aside from Hongjoong and himself. How could Wooyoung know to bring you here?

“Your thoughts move elsewhere, are you alright?” His eyes are coated with concern, hand lifting to brush a thumb against your cheek. “We can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no everything is fine.” It may be that Yeosang let this private place slip his tongue while speaking with him. And perhaps Wooyoung found it as beautiful as you did and decided to bring you here. You let those thoughts settle within you as he leans down, his lips pressing against your jaw. A hum vibrates against his lips, your moment of confusion slipping away once he lines himself up and pushes forward, just enough to have your eyes widening almost immediately. You expect the impact to at least ache, but it feels warm and soft and full.

“So warm, my solaris. Made just for me, yes?” His entrance is slow, his hand that cradles your face sliding to your shoulder. “I need to ask, solaris.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your forehead as he pushes deeper. “We… I feed on life. On human life. And you are full of it, pretty. So so beautiful and holy and bright.”

His words make no sense, a question still not uttered. “What are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“Can I taste you?” His hands slide down to your waist as he finally fully enters. They glow a dark orange against your skin, his eyes on yours. “It would be just a small taste. It wouldn’t kill you. It will feel good, solaris. You will feel good.”

The question is still vague, but even with you clouded mind, you can pick through the mess of words. A low moan comes from you as he pulls out slightly, entering again. “You want to eat my soul?”

“A sliver, it will barely be missed.”

“…Okay.”

The fear disappears once his lips cover yours, tongue entering your mouth as his hips set a steady rhythm. “You’ll love it.” You begin to keen under him, feeling wave after wave of heat surrounding the two of you, the sound of birds above you chirping as he takes you. The ache entering through you from the pleasure his cock pressing in and out of you and the sensation of being beneath his torso. His fingers gripping your waist break skin, and then you see it. The orange light that you presumed was spilling through his fingers was not him, no. It is you, your aura surrounding the two of you. Wooyoung’s pace almost doubles at the sight, the smell woodsy and sweet. The mop of black hair seeps into a orange color as it swirls through the air, eyes matching. It is a sight to see between pleasure, you, yourself, seen in an unknown light. Just as he pulls away from your lips, your soul enters your skin again.

His brows furrow, but he does not comment on it, instead, lifting up onto his hands to find another angle, sighing in relief it once your knees were up at his sides, feet hooked around his waist. The question as to why he cannot feed on you lingers.

“Perhaps my sin is too much for a soul like yours,” he whispers, dropping his weight down onto his elbows, then further, arms wrapping around you. “I will enjoy you nonetheless.”

“What are you–”

His hips press harshly into yours just as you begin to speak, watching as your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. You’re not quick to notice a hot tear falling down your cheek, rolling down your temple, lost in the darkness as his cum seeping out of his tip slowly but surely began melting your senses into nothing. The sound of skin begins echoing in the air and trees, his knees sliding up to push his thighs against you, pressing him deeper. You slowly lose your sense of the world you, focused on his cock pressing into you, his arms around you as you writhe with each thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You always shine brightly, solaris, and yet you shine even moreso. How am I to keep my hands off you now that I’ve finally had you?” The sound of his voice is lost in between the sounds of skin slapping, the way he rocked into her body.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His eyes widen briefly, the orange fading as they meet yours. You somehow find the strength to keep focused on him despite how intensely your climax is coming. It’s the first time you’re unable to read his expression, perhaps a tint of wonder if you could focus. After a few seconds your thighs tighten, gasps leaving your lips. “Wooyoung–”

“Just like that pretty, just for me.”

Your head falls back, straining to let out the moan that clawed its way up, vise forming around his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hell,” he grits, hips stilling as he cums, stuttering with each succeeding one. Your breaths escape your lips, lids heavy as you feel his own lips press lightly against yours.

—

“It has been hours since they were together, and he has still not let her leave his room. Should she not eat?” Yunho murmurs. They can see how his annoyance has gathered around him, hand gripping the apple between his fingers tightly, brows furrowed enough to become one. He is right – neither you nor Wooyoung has left his room. Seonghwa and maybe San could break the barrier that he has placed around his resting place, but neither wants to. Only making Yunho grow more irritated.

“They were together, Yunho. Let them simmer in it before they're told the news,” San rubs his arm, presses a soft kiss against his temple. “It is soon to be ruined once they enter a shared space.”

“He’s not going to move on from this,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes closed as he tucks himself further into the couch cushions. “I’m not ready to hear him boasting everyday about something I don’t care about in the slightest. San you might have to whip up a spell to shut him up.”

“I doubt he’d say anything outlandish-”

“Good afternoon~” His warm voice echoes through the room as he enters, almost floating as he glides along the tiles to the fridge. He presses his lips against Yunho and San’s cheeks while he passes by, the ghost of his magic roaming over Hongjoong’s arm and squeezing it. “Lovely day.”

Hongjoong’s lip twitches, but he makes no move to respond to Wooyoung’s words, annoyance already riddling his features. Yunho glances at Wooyoung, watching as he sings a song, pulling ingredients from open drawers and cabinets. No one says a word in response aside from San, easily wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his mate’s temple.

“We haven’t seen you in almost a day.”

“Busy. And solaris is hungry, and I assume the rest of you are,” he places his utensils on the counter. “Ready for some human food?”

All of their faces wrinkle in disgust at his words, a chuckle draping his lips as he rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't hurt you to feed on things other than humans.”

“It tastes of chalk and sadness,” Yunho mumbles, watching as he coats the pan with butter. “And smells rancid.”

“Whatever, you're missing out on the joys in life. Sweets aren't the only thing that tingles the taste buds.”

“You would know,” San is barely heard as he bites on the apple slice, but it is audible enough for their joint laughter. “I'm surprised you haven't spilled your secrets yet. Not often do you keep your escapades to yourself.”

“I’m not going to brag, I would never kiss and tell.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow. “You do, in fact, kiss and tell. That’s all you do actually, I’m surprised you were even able to let that lie slip.”

Wooyoung sticks out his tongue, tapping the pepper into the pan. “Well not now. Solaris is too special for me to discuss things like that around you all. A star that glows like her demands privacy.”

“Did she threaten you?” Hongjoong snickers, peeking out a lid when he doesn’t hear an immediate response. “Oh? She did?”

He frowns. “Not necessarily. I would just like to keep it quiet. It's not just between us eight now, she’s different. Humans are more private. I don't want her uncomfortable.”

“Honorable,” Yunho notes. “Perhaps you have grown.”

“There’s barely a hundred years between us,” Wooyoung deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

—

“They were together.”

“Correct.”

“And you have no qualms with that?”

“They are not young and we are not responsible for their actions, Seonghwa. I don’t care what they do in their free time. You’re just upset that she wasn’t with you first as all. She likely would have if it weren’t for that disgusted look you give her every time you’re in a room together.”

“She’s not a commodity to be passed around, Hongjoong. I don’t care if she is with me first or not at all. All that I’m saying is, it’s irresponsible to ignore it.”

If Hongjoong’s eyes could roll further back they would. He closes his notebook slowly, looking up at Seonghwa. “What do you suppose we do, then? Place a chastity belt on Wooyoung, perhaps cuff him to his bed so that he cannot move near her? Ship him off to Yeonjun himself to deal with?”

“That is not what I’m saying at all. You treat this like it’s a joke,” Seonghwa frowns.

“What you’re suggesting is a joke. I’m not stopping either of them from indulging in one another. I didn’t expect Wooyoung to win her over so soon, but it was inevitable. You hid your suspicions from them, but even with it, it would only make it more enticing for him. He does not back down from a challenge. Especially one he is so obsessed with.”

“You told me to keep it to myself,” Seonghwa rubs his temple, breathing deeply. “I was going to tell them-”

“You still could have. You still can. What I said was a suggestion, nothing more.”

There is no use in arguing with him, Seonghwa thinks. Hongjoong knows what his suggestions are - oftentimes there are threats hidden beneath them. And though he loves him more than life itself, he cannot stand how nonchalant Hongjoong can be. Even if the human, you, does not know your true nature yourself.

“Fine.”

Hongjoong smirks, “That was much easier to deal with.”

“I will tell them tonight. All of them.”

Hongjoong’s smirk twitches. Seonghwa is not looking at him directly, so he does not see the slight dip in his expression, “You will?”

“As you said, it was merely a suggestion. Perhaps their minds will change once they all know of her true nature. And we can finally kill her.”

“You want her dead?”

Never. The thought forms bile in his mouth. “I’d rather not touch her at all. But what other choice do we have? She will kill us all if we let her stay. It is the best decision right now.” He found you, he tracked you down. If he killed you in the beginning despite the resistance to their powers, perhaps it would have saved him from the guilt that begins to riddle his body. He should not care for a creature like you, knowing it is what you do. And still, with knowing, he cannot stop it from happening. Which is why he needs to tell the rest of them.

“They won’t let you kill her. Most have already succumbed to her charm.”

“... I will do what I must to keep us safe.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Then so be it. You have no objection from me. I’ve grown wary of her being around anyway. Humans are too… irritating.”

“Not a human.”

“Right. I won’t let the others know of my opinion and side with the majority.”

“Sometimes, they would like to hear what their leader thinks, Hongjoong.”

He pauses for a moment. “It will influence their decisions too much for me to say what I want.”

“And you think your thoughts do not influence mine?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely curious. Hongjoong laughs at the question, shaking his head.

“Seonghwa, I've known you for hundreds of years. You’d rather throw yourself in front of a deadly attack than take my opinion over your own. It is settled.”

—

You sit near the back of the room, Wooyoung’s presence wrapped around the headrest of the chair you occupy. No one else has approached you, though you sensed the lingering eyes of Yunho to the side of you. He gave you a smile when you entered, the slight downturn of his lips as he met Wooyoung’s gaze obvious. It did make you nervous that it was somehow your fault he looked furious. But the expression was gone with a blink.

“Mingi won’t be joining us, but he already informed me of his opinion prior to our meeting,” Hongjoong says, sliding past the rest and sitting in the loveseat farthest away from the entrance. His eyes bore into yours, oddly twinkling. “It will be kept in mind as we’re voting.”

“And what is it that we’re voting on?” Yunho asks.

“It has taken me a while to consider what has been going on the past few months, and how it affects all of us, including y/n,” Seonghwa does not meet your eyes as he speaks, staring at an unoccupied couch. “Our voting today is to decide if she lives or dies.”

Silence falls over the room. Your own chest tightens, palms growing moist as the seconds tick by. Kill you? Has what you’ve done destroyed their relationship with other faeries to the point of no return? Seonghwa’s reluctance to even be near you was not only for disgust like you thought before, but something deeper. Hongjoong wasn’t lying when he told you that they believed you to be not human. But you’re not hiding anything yourself. Being anything but human just feels impossible.

“You’re joking?” Wooyoung stands up from where he is behind you, slightly stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She killed Beomgyu, Wooyoung.”

“So? I kill faeries and humans all the time! Why should that matter?”

“You know why,” San speaks this time, shaking his head. “It has caused us many problems. But Seonghwa, killing her? What use is that to us?”

Seonghwa sighs. “She is not entirely human, that’s why.”

Their gazes all meet yours from across the room. Even Wooyoung, his valiant effort to coax them into saving your life, expression drops slightly, confusion coating his gaze. As if questioning the validity of everything you’ve told him. Somehow that look makes you feel utterly guilty, despite not believing in his claim.

“I am a human,” you retort. “That, whatever happened at that time, it wasn’t… it was me, but it was a fluke. An adrenaline rush.”

“How can we assume she’s not human just because she killed a Seelie?” Yeosang asks. His expression remains neutral, potion book placed face-down on the counter. “Strength like that is not uncommon in humans.”

“Correct, but we all know that a human cannot tear apart a Seelie, especially the way Beomgyu was. His body was unrecognizable, torn to shreds. Someone with her size and strength, even with a burst of adrenaline could not take a Seelie down like that. She would have to know weaknesses, have weaponry-”

“It is unlike you to say allegations without undeniable truth,” Jongho interrupts him. “So I believe what you’re saying, hyung. What is she, if not a human?”

It’s interesting how despite being in the same room with them, they all ignore your presence entirely, speaking amongst themselves. Likely because you can lie with ease and without restraint. They won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, anyway, except maybe Yunho or Wooyoung.

“Now this may bother you all. But there is no other explanation. She is a kumiho.”

“That’s impossible-”

“It isn’t,” Seonghwa interrupts Wooyoung before he begins, holding up a hand. “We are real, so it is not too far gone to believe in something that was once unreal to us. There are still beings out there that we do not know of. Her strength, the claw marks on the dead Seelie. She has not turned on the full moon and her blood does not contain any sort of wolf characteristics. Kumiho can blend amongst humans the easiest after they have lived over a thousand years. It is not unrealistic to assume that she has moved past that point and become a human woman.”

“She hasn’t even attempted to lure any of us.” Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “Nor has she eaten human flesh.”

“That we know of.”

You can only scoff, shaking your head. “This is unreal.”

“There is no other explanation. Your strength is formidable to our own. Likely, the feline creature hiding inside this human appearance in front of us has prevented itself from remembering what it was. For protection or otherwise - we have yet to find out.”

Wooyoung’s gaze wavers the longer he listens to Seonghwa’s explanation. In fact, it seems that each of them believes everything that comes from his mouth. But it is impossible. What would be the reason for hiding your true being from yourself?

“Now we vote, then,” Hongjoong starts. “Mingi has voted yes to kill her. Seonghwa?”

“It is what needs to be done, yes,” Seonghwa agrees.

“Yunho?” Hongjoong asks, turning to him.

His gaze is on the floor, thinking. After a few seconds passed, “No. I don’t think she’s a threat to us. We keep her alive.”

Hongjoong looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang ponders the thought as everyone discusses loudly amongst one another. His eyes meet yours across the room, just being Wooyoung as he seemingly protects you with his body. You look afraid. Your eyes move to each person as they speak, your nerves palpable enough to be tasted in the thickened air. If he himself agrees to your death, it is likely that San would agree. Neither of them truly differ in opinion on things like this. Jongho would soon follow out of mere respect. And you would be killed promptly. It is what he has wanted since you’ve arrived here, turning everything sideways. So why, as he looks at your pathetic cowering behind Wooyoung, why does he feel such pity for you?

He looks at Wooyoung again. Though his fascination with you is beyond his capability of understanding, he can see it. How his eyes look at his spark desperately, pleading with them to save you. How Yunho’s jaw clenches, quietly observing. He wanted you here, wanted you protected by them. Though you aren’t exactly the pitiful human he once thought you to be, he still cares for you, strangely.

“Well, what do you want to do?” San whispers into his neck. Useless, since they all can hear what he’s saying aside from you. “Kill her?”

His next words will change everything. Yeosang meets your eyes across the room. His own widen slightly at your expression, flicking down to read your lips. The words mouthed to him are enough for him to decide.

Please help me.

“There’s no reason to kill her if she does not hold any threats to us right now.”

Seonghwa whips his head to Yeosang. Anger expressed along the vein on his neck, the set of his brows. He will not say it outright, but Yeosang has just betrayed his trust. Perhaps Seonghwa thought he would allow the woman to be killed just because … well, because he wanted it. But he cannot now, not when things are turning out so interesting.

“You are sure of this?” Hongjoong asks. His eyes sparkle. “Truly?” Despite only being the fourth oldest, his words hold weight for the rest.

“I am,” Yeosang says simply. The tense gaze of your expression has not dropped. Probably because you don’t realize that San would follow his lead, then Jongho. Your hand wraps around Wooyoung’s arm that traps you behind him. “If need be in the future with reason, sure. But now, no.”

“This is a mistake-” Seonghwa begins, stopping once Hongjoong flicks his finger. His mouth is shut in an instant, the feeling of magic swirling through the air.

“Hasn’t he spoken enough tonight? There are three remaining votes. As always, I will side with the majority. San, you’re next.”

“No need to kill her,” San agrees. Hongjoong’s smile grows louder, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

“Your answer is obvious, but please Wooyoung, give your vote.”

Wooyoung covers your body almost completely as he speaks. “Of course, I will not kill her.”

“What does our youngest think?”

“I enjoy her being around, I can’t imagine her not being here,” Jongho smiles at you from across the room. “She can stay.”

“Well, as with the majority, y/n’s life is spared. Apologies to Seonghwa and Mingi, but as you know, it has now been decided. Take all the time you need to process this.” He flicks his finger again toward Seonghwa. The room expects him to roar his complaints, but he only looks around, tiredness seemingly flowing off of him.

“I trust you all and always have. And I assumed that you trust my words as well. But as Hongjoong has said, majority rules. I hope that you all keep an eye on her, and make sure that with the slightest change in behavior, monitor it. It can come at any time since she cannot control it herself,” Seonghwa looks at you, eyes meeting. “And I hope, y/n, you listen to my words yourself. Leave if you feel the change happening.”

He leaves the room, Hongjoong disappearing from his spot, likely following Seonghwa close behind along with Yunho. Leaving the rest of you alone.

Wooyoung’s body seeps into your figure the way he embraces you so tightly, lips pressing against your temple lightly. “I’ll be back, pretty.” His touch disappears as well. Jongho glances at you sympathetically, eyes glazing over yours for a moment before he too, blinks away. The instantaneous disappearing bodies is not something you’d ever get used to.

It does not distract you enough from what Seonghwa said, though. You are not human, despite how you’ve lived, how much you have insisted. A kumiho? As he further explained it, it still made entirely no sense to you. You’ve lived your life plainly, rarely if ever dated once in a while. Soobin was your second official relationship, the first lasting no more than a couple of years. The way he looked with such disgust as he explained it, how your age superseded everyone’s in the room. How your true nature was hidden from even yourself - it is impossible to think of.

“It is interesting to look at you, knowing what you are,” San says, looking around Yeosang to peer at you. “Do you have the urge to bite me?”

“I don’t feel anything, San,” exasperation coats your words. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Seonghwa is rarely wrong,” Yeosang murmurs. “That is why we take his word as the truth. Since you are kumiho, your training with Mingi will be much different now. Likely more intense.”

Your arms ache at the thought. You have yet to see Mingi yourself, but the training from before was strenuous. You look at Yeosang, remembering he expression on his face as he peered over at you, the tired eyes filled with curiosity as he voted to keep you alive. You are grateful, nonetheless. But the question lingers the longer you look at him.

“Do you want me dead?”

Yeosang pauses at the inquiry, straw resting between his lips. Eyes flicking to yours. There is little to decipher when it comes to him since he rarely tells what he may be thinking, and you're not with him often. But something in the way he looks at you. He does not respond right away – an indication that he may twist his words to satisfy your question.

“In the beginning I thought it'd be best to get rid of you before it escalated. Even more recently, I thought the same. But now I am not so sure,” he places his drink on the counter. “Most of us do enjoy having you around, human or not. Though I am not as enthused as Yunho or Wooyoung with your presence, I no longer hate it. So I have grown to tolerate it. Until I cannot.”

“You will kill me?”

His smile is strange, hollow. “If I must. Your life isn't that important. Or I'll wait until it has run out itself. You may only have a few more decades left, anyway. They will get over it – their fixation will move to something more interesting eventually.”

How casually he talks about your life. Like it is nothing. He does consider it as nothing, as he has said. None of the Unseelie is this house told you do directly as he has done. You should feel a bit wary around him now, knowing he could change his mind in seconds and kill you. Even now, as he reads the spellbook resting on his thighs, he could kill you. And San, sitting nearby, would only help.

So feeling comforted at the thought is unusual.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, and he snickers. “Not much of that going around here.”

“Sure.”

San leaves a bit after that. The silence echoes around the small room, eyes moving to the doorway at the sound of the door clicking open. The sight nearly startles you, seeing him for the first time in months. Mingi is followed closely by Yunho, bodies brushing against one another as they enter. Yeosang takes that as a sign to leave you, closing his spellbook and gracefully hopping off the chair. His fingers drag across Mingi's arm as he leaves.

“Oddly quiet around here,” he notes, opening the fridge. Yunho sits where Yeosang just was, smiling at you. “Have you been getting along well despite today?” He asks, thanking Mingi as he passes him an apple. “Wooyoung said you've been making progress adjusting, but I rarely take his word for it.”

“It's been better now,” you say. “It's not one hundred percent yet, but I am getting used to being around here. I hope it just ends soon.”

“I heard your life was spared. It should make you happy. Ah,” he snaps his fingers. “They haven't told you yet,” Mingi sits on the opposite side of you. “We will have to leave soon.”

“We?”

“Half of us. Yunho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and myself. Seelie requested our presence. We would have all went, but with these circumstances, it may be best to leave half of us here.”

Circumstances meaning you. Mingi does not further explain and you do not insist on him doing so, instead sinking further into the chair you rest on. “So I am left with the rest of you.”

“Left is a strong word,” Yunho mumbles into his cup. “More like babysat.”

Your frown deepens, and he laughs. “It is but a joke. You can take care of yourself. They won’t do anything to you while we’re gone. Yeosang and San will likely stay to themselves now that Seonghwa has relieved him of his duty to watch you. Jongho will be entertaining enough, no?”

“She is older than us all, no need to treat her as a faerling,” Mingi murmurs.

“She thinks she’s almost three decades old, Mingi.”

“Time to see reality.”

They banter back and forth about you, clueless as to how you’ve already left, steps quiet as you make it to your own bedroom. Seonghwa’s words, no matter how convincing, is not something you believe to be true. He says you conjured up this false reality of your life to blend into the human world, but it makes no sense to you. Nothing, none of it does. You remember your parents, you remember your family life. How you so easily deluded yourself into thinking that it was real when it’s not is beyond your comprehension. Likely because you don’t believe it at all. Why would you hide it from yourself? There is no reason to block your own mind from it - even if you are as he says you are. Jumping to such a conclusion is ridiculous.

No. You’re not a kumiho.

You enter your room, shutting the door behind and locking it. Surely Seonghwa can easily create a spell to allow the others into your room, but he won’t. Not if he so vehemently believes that you’re a creature that he didn’t even think was real. You settle yourself into your sheets, ignoring the lingering feeling in your mind that he might be right.

#fic: wonderwall #ateez x reader #ot8 x reader #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez fics #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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jean0farc · 6 months

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★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑲.

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, a bit of fluff.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Alucard X You (the reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: Just a little one-shot scenario between you and affectionate, but yandere Alucard snuggled up in bed. The time takes place after sex. After refusing to cuddle with him, he spirals into a feeling of bloodlust as he gets himself ready to mark you as his.

𝖈𝖜: Blood drinking, if that counts. A bit of dubcon even though there isn’t really smut for this fic, and slight degradation (he calls you his pet).

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Hello again, readers. So I’m back with a new fic and despite not uploading for a couple of weeks due to mental health reasons and school, I’m going to post this new fic I made which is a part of a series!

YANDERE PROMPT LIST BY: @writeformesinpie

PROMPT: “I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“A-Alucard….Just five more minutes…please….”

It was about nine o’ clock in the morning when all curtains were closed to prevent sunlight from penetrating through the glass windows.

….And there you were in bed, bare naked with the touch-starved vampire himself, your body shivering at the cold touch of your respective “lover.” Alucard was trying to cuddle you, to which you tried avoiding.

“You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, dear. You must lie with the beast before you who has been craving your touch for as long as a thousand years.”

“There you go again with your silly monologues, Alucard. Just let me be as I sleep, alright? I’m tired. You might as well kill some peasants outside or do your necessary duties for the day….just leave me be-”

A loud sound was heard as Alucard flipped you over.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as Alucard landed on top of you, pinning you down to the king-sized bed as his eyes glowed a bright shade of red. The look on his face intimidated you like a hungry wolf cornering its prey, his lips forming a smug smirk. You wanted to….no, you needed to run to a safe place where you could feel a bit of comfort. The look he’s been giving you was unlike his previous deed of cuddling your smaller figure.

Alucard let out a small chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, darling? Judging by your current state, there won’t be another time where you’ll refuse my orders.”

“But, Alucard, we’re-” you attempted to protest.

“We’re not what?” Alucard asked, tilting his head. “Not together?” He laughed in retaliation to your bewildered facial expression. Leaning closer to your ear, you felt chills run down your spine as he whispered intimately. “Very well, let me clue you in. Your blood is mine, in fact, your entire being is mine by the time I’ll have myself inside you. Sir Integra has chosen you to become my one and only pet whom I shall swear to protect with my very own life. You are far too fragile to let go. Let this moment consume your soul. Give yourself to me, and don’t look back.”

“Alucard…..please…” you whimpered. “I only agreed to sleep with you because….because…..!!!”

“Such a precious, sensitive little thing.”

His mouth opened wide and bit down aggressively on your neck, drawing blood. You moaned loudly in return, trying to push away Alucard’s huge figure off of you. Your efforts to let yourself free were pointless, as he took advantage of your arms by grabbing your wrists and keeping them in place.

Alucard started to suck the blood out of your neck, leaving bruises and hickeys around it. He surely was doing all this for his own pleasure, so as to leave you aching for more. And boy, were you feeling real good.

“A-Alucard!!! I….I thought…you just wanted…a hug…..”

“Hm? I've changed my mind. From now on, what I want from you is something more sinister, something animalistic and disgusting to the untrained eye. I can never get enough of you, I’ll drink you down to the last sip. I have fallen for you, pet. Show a little gratitude for someone as powerful as I have swallowed their pride just to love and protect you dearly with all my strength.”

“I appreciate it, but….”

“Has your pride gotten the best of you, dear? After we got our freak on the previous night? I bet it didn’t. Just admit how you developed feelings for me.”

“Oh, no! That’s not the case! I-” you stammered.

“Ah, so you still refuse to admit your feelings, hm? Very well, I’ll show you how desperate of a mess you’ll be once I bend you over.”

It was too late. You and Alucard were about to spend the whole morning going at it until night, leaving you with no choice but to spend time with the creature who has lusted for you since Integra has chosen you as his pet.

There was no turning back.

It was about to be a long day.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard imagine #hellsing alucard #hellsing ultimate #alucard hellsing #hellsing #alucard hellsing x reader #x reader #yandere prompts #yandere x reader

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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year

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Forever and always.. or maybe never.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Hanahaki Disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.

❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst

(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.

" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye.

“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins.

“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart.

“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question.

“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat.

“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired.

“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”

“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.

“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.

“ There are ways around it my d-”

“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead.

“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice.

“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes.

“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues.

“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm.

“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more.

“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled.

“ That is n-”

“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.

“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be.

“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves.

“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”

“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away.

“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness.

“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted.

“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps.

“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him.

"Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.

“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist.

“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach.

“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened. “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.

Part 2

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #aemond targaryen angst #angst

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ken-dom · 8 months

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Ken After Dark

Ken x reader

2.3k words

Gorgeous artwork created for this fic by the wonderful @dranna 💖

Summary: Ken has a dirty secret that you’ll only discover if you skip girls night.

Author’s Notes: I have two headcanons for Ken — excited, needy virgin sub!Ken who cries after sex, and smug, secretly slutty dom!Ken (who also cries after sex if you praise him).

I originally posted this to my main blog but I'm re-posting all my work here to have everything in one place due to an unresolved tagging issue on my main.

Warnings/content: NSFW, 18+, dom!Ken, f!reader, Ken has a huge praise kink, blow job, voice kink if you squint, crying, aftercare, reference to bitter competition between Kens, it’s still light and fun in places so expect talk of disco pants during the blow job and references to the stupid shit he says it’s a Ken fic what do you expect

Ken pulled away, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, leaving you breathless beneath him.

‘You like that?’ he smirked, voice dark and low. It wasn’t the voice you were used to hearing from him at the beach; light, fun… eager. It was almost dangerous, and it caused your legs to tremble.

And yes, you did like it, that hot-blooded kiss that spread from a warm tingle on your lips to searing heat pooling at your core, so you nodded, burning up under the intensity of his gaze as he awaited the answer he craved.

‘Yeah? Well, there’s a lot more where that came from,’ he growled, grabbing your jaw and roughly dragging you back to him for a deeper, more ferocious kiss that frankly didn’t last long enough. ‘I can show you things you couldn’t comprehend.’

Bet Ken couldn’t comprehend them either, Ken thought bitterly as he rolled his hips to press his erection into your thigh with a loud groan. The sensation soothed his nagging jealousy for a moment.

‘Show me, Ken,’ you cooed, desperate for more.

‘Only if you beg.’

Your eyes widened at his response, his commanding voice rolling through you like a vibration.

‘Please, Ken- I- I need you to show me…’ you breathed, hypnotised by the deadly glint in his eyes.

Yeah, that’s right, beg. You’re begging me. Not Ken.

‘On your knees,’ he snarled against your lips, one hand swiftly slapping and then grabbing a handful of your ass. ‘Now.’

You followed his instruction without question, slipping down onto the floor to kneel before him as he stood above you, freeing himself from his disco pants and guiding your lips to his impressive cock. He smiled down smugly when he heard the gasp you couldn’t contain at the sight of it, sparkling precum already leaking from the angry red tip, shaft throbbing within his fist.

When you’d let your thoughts wander, you always imagined Ken would be a gentle lover, easing you into a slow and gentle lovemaking session with soft touches and tender caresses and lingering kisses, focussing entirely on your pleasure before thinking of his own and delighting in sharing himself with you.

This, however, was shaping up to be a fantasy you’d never quite dared to explore, but oh, it felt so dirty and so unexpectedly good.

You suckled teasingly at the tip for a moment, taking your time to taste him. But Ken was impatient. He thrust himself hard into your mouth, choking you slightly as his length reached the back of your throat, and you began to suck, lapping at his slit each time you bobbed your head and pulled back. You were surprised to discover that you were causing him to tremble, his legs growing weak at your ministrations.

‘Ohhh… uhhhghh- UGH!’

A thrill ran through you at the desperate sounds of his pleasure. He was louder with each thrust, with each lap of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, with each muffled hum you couldn’t quite get out around a mouthful of his cock, and every vibration they sent through his core.

You glanced up to see that he was biting his fist with his eyes tight shut, trying (and spectacularly failing) to keep the noise down. With every passing second you craved more, so you sucked harder, bobbed your head faster, worshipped his cock with your tongue, and before long, the first that had muffled his moans was useless.

With a final cry that would have woken the whole street if it wasn’t for girls night occupying all your neighbours a couple of streets over, he firmly wound his fist back into your locks and sharply pulled you away, your lips slipping off his length with a light pop, leaving only a string of saliva connecting you to his leaking, swollen cock as you gazed up at him.

He was a picture, breathless and flushed, barely able to keep himself together.

‘On the bed,’ he snapped after a shaky, deep breath, lips curling in delight as he watched you wipe your mouth on the back of your hand and scramble back up onto the sequin duvet.

Ken might be the coolest but he isn’t getting his dick sucked like this tonight, Ken thought, a rush of power spreading through his body, making him chuckle delightedly.

He crawled over you, pinning your wrists above your head and biting his lip as he took the sight of you in, your swollen, wet lips and dilated pupils making his cock twitch. One light stroke, he thought, and he’d be done for, so he kept himself propped up avoiding the warmth of your body against his twitching length.

‘That felt… mmh… sublime,’ he rumbled, eyes gazing longingly into yours as he bit his lip, and you swore a glint of the Ken you knew flashed behind them somewhere.

His eyes sparkled, his cheeks flushed, and you thought he would snap out of this and make love to you like Beach Ken would. Needy and whiny and considerate…

He blinked, shook his head, whipped off his jacket and top and glared at you again, a snarl playing across his pretty lips.

‘I need to fuck you now. You deserve my cock for sucking it so good. Do you want that? Do you want me to make you mine?’

Nodding eagerly, you placed your hands gently on his chiselled chest, breathless as you caressed his perfect body. Ken’s eyes slid closed and he turned his face away, and for a moment you thought he was crying. But before you had a chance to show him any more softness, or notice that he had actually let out a soft sob at the tender way you’d touched him, he gripped your hips roughly to hold you firmly in place beneath him, devouring you with his eyes once again as he pushed himself inside.

Your eyes rolled back as he stretched you, sculpted hips digging hard into your flesh with each delicious thrust, fucking into you so hard you weren’t sure the bed would hold up.

You leaned up to kiss him, but he stopped you with another command; one that he really needed, and his orgasm was so near that he needed it now.

‘Tell me you- ah!- notice me? Tell me I’m- ahh!’

He sounded weaker somehow, quieter, as he tried to hold off his climax for just a few more seconds. He was trying to uphold this seductive, dominating version of himself, but he couldn’t quite keep it up with his peak nearing so rapidly and thoughts of you treating him softly filling his mind. All jealous thoughts of Ken had been overtaken by thoughts of you. There was only you. He needed you.

‘T-tell me… please-’ he whimpered.

‘You’re so hot, Ken,’ you panted, ‘you’re… mmh- amazing at kissing, god, I never would have imagined how good, ohh!- and you’re sexy and handsome and… Ken, I- I need you, my body aches for you- I’m so close-’

Ken intoxicated your mind, fucking you with such abandon you couldn’t quite think of any more words. It was just him. Everything was him, from your fingertips to the depths of your aching core.

You clawed at his back, and his orgasm ripped through him, harder and more satisfying than any he could remember. His throbbing cock was helped along by the timing of your own climax, walls clenching tight around his length and heels digging into his back as his fists gripped the sheets, until he finally collapsed on top of you.

‘Wow,’ he grunted against your chest.

As soon as the last drop of his glittery seed had filled you and he had begun to soften, he pushed himself up to roll off you, turning away as you lay shaky and breathless beside him.

You expected him to leave. As much as you’d enjoyed your experience with this new After Dark version of Ken, it also left you questioning whether he would be decent enough to even kiss you goodnight now he’d got what he wanted. You were just another doll he’d used and had his fun with. Tomorrow he would move onto another. You’d never see him the same way at the beach again, that was for sure.

Shivering, you slipped the covers up over yourself, waiting for the moment he would pull his shimmery pants back on and make an excuse to get back to… whatever he actually did in his free time. Apart from this, of course.

As you sighed and turned away too, not wanting to experience the humiliating sting of actually having to watch him leave, you heard what sounded like a whiny sob.

‘Ken?’

Peering over at him, your hand hesitated midair before softly caressing his shoulder. He was trembling, you realised, and when he moved his own hands away from his face you saw that he was crying, too.

‘Ken… didn’t you like it?’ you whispered, humiliation prickling at your cheeks.

He began to wail then, pressing his face into the nearest pillow in an attempt to muffle the sounds.

‘You said I’m hot,’ he sobbed dramatically, ‘you… you really think that? You said you ache for me! No one has ever even said I’m a good kisser… until today I thought I was only good at beach! Is it too much to want to hear that I’m hot now and again? But you actually think I am! And you… need me? I’m needed?’

He expected you to kick him out. They always did. He was pathetic. The brief moments of feeling safe and in control he experienced during these encounters was never really worth it in the end. He always ended up alone again.

As he resigned himself to picking himself up off your bed and moving on, the comforting warmth of your arm wrapping around him, scooping him to your chest to hold him close caused him to gasp.

‘Everything I said was true,’ you said softly, lips ghosting against his ear. ‘You’ve been doing this because you’re lonely, haven’t you?’

He nodded, shame running cold through his veins. Who would want him now?

‘There’s no need,’ you soothed, pressing your lips gently against his ear, ‘you are wanted, Ken. You are so incredibly wanted.’

You felt him relax a little in your embrace then, and he sighed, a long and trembling sigh that steadied his uneven breaths.

‘We could do it again? Softer, maybe…’ you leant over to place a lingering kiss on his damp cheek. ‘Slower, too… let me show you another way, Ken?’

‘Show me,’ he whined, finally turning to you. ‘Please.’

You hooked a leg around his waist, dragging his hips to yours as you kissed him softly, playfully nipping at his lips between deeper moments of finding his tongue to dance with yours.

‘This feels so good,’ he breathed weakly into your mouth, a sad smile pulling at his lips. It was overwhelming, all this affection he’d never before felt.

‘You feel amazing…’ You guided him back to you, feeling his arousal against your core and shifting your hips to take him in once again, rocking slowly to find a much more peaceful, connected release. ‘You feel… incredible,’ you whispered, voice breaking, ‘and you need this, don’t you baby?’

A tear rolled down Ken’s cheek. Lost for words, he simply huffed in disbelief, smiling against your lips.

‘You’re so good at this… at making me feel good… god, I need you, Ken, I need you…’

You guided his hand between your flush bodies to the apex of your thighs, his fingers finding your aching clit as you showed him how to touch you.

He was utterly taken with you, not just consumed with hunger for a hard fuck just to feel desired for a few seconds. Now he was simply filled with awe, eyes wide, watching your face contorting in pleasure he was giving you.

‘That’s it, oh, Ken, don’t stop! You’re doing so good… so goo-ohhh!’

That’s all it took. He came again, harder than before, trying to maintain eye contact with you but falling so weak he could only sob madly into the crook of your neck as he emptied his seed inside you for the second time.

The strength of his grip on your shoulder, the way his head dropped to nestle against you as he panted through his pleasure, the elegant fingers dancing across your sensitive nub, his thick cock buried, seed emptying inside you as you writhed against one another… you could only scream his name as your pleasure reached heights you’d never known.

You slowed the rolling of your hips and held him safe to your chest again.

‘That was amazing. You’re amazing,’ you soothed, fingers stroking through his soft hair.

Ken’s overwhelmed tears quickly turned into tears of joy, his grip still firm on your shoulder and his face pressed against your chest.

‘Please may I… stay here tonight?’ he muttered quietly, nervous you’d take back your affections at the thought of actually sharing your bed with him for more than this.

‘Like a sleepover?’ you smiled excitedly, tilting his chin up so you could see him.

Ken smiled dreamily. ‘Yeah. Like a sleepover.’

‘As long as I get to brush your hair and cuddle up to that hot body of yours and… maybe hold your hand at the beach tomorrow?’

He blushed madly, hand seeking yours, fingers interlocking. ‘You really like my body?’

‘Who wouldn’t like your body? Who wouldn’t like you? Come here.’ You pull him up until you’re face to face again. ‘I really like you Ken.’

‘I really like you, too.’

You really meant it all. All thoughts of Ken or being turned down in favour of girls’ night had long since faded from his mind.

All there was now, was you.

#not s f w 💀#ken #ken x reader #ken x you #ken smut #ken x y/n #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling!ken #ryan!ken #ryan gosling #rg!ken #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #ken-dom writes #ken fic #kenergy

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writemekpop · 9 months

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Live A Little | Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten)

Summary: You knew that a holiday with your best friend Ten would be wild… you just didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

Genre: Friends to lovers AU

Word count: 1k @tyongie

“Ten, what are you doing? You’ll get soaked!”

You watched in horror as your best friend Ten ran out from under the bridge, right into the thunderstorm.

Ten stood in the middle of the empty road, arms flung out, face tilted up to the sky.

Thick, warm drops of monsoon rain soaked him in an instant. The rain slid down his body, darkening his clothes and making his T shirt cling to his slim, muscled frame.

Ten turned to look at you, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.

He cocked two fingers at you.

“Come here,” he said, smirking.

“No way! I don’t want to catch a cold!”

Ten just smiled, and turned his head to the sky once more. His handsome face was smooth, blissful. The rain soaked his plump lips.

Your eyes traced the droplets that curved down his Adam’s apple and pooled in his collar bones. The sight of him sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Ten had never looked less like your loveable best friend. He looked like a beautiful stranger.

Not one drop of rain had touched crisp white shirt and business skirt. You could feel your bra digging into your skin, and your tight bun made your head throb.

You wanted to be carefree like Ten. You wanted him to lick your wounds and kiss your worries away. A strange feeling was swelling inside you. You realised that Ten was the answer to every question that had filled your head since you got here.

The realisation that you were in love with your best friend hit you like a truck.

You pulled out your bun, letting your hair fall past your shoulders.

Then, you took a deep breath and stepped out from under the bridge.

The rain drenched your body. It was warm, soothing your tightly wound muscles, coaxing a moan from your lips.

Ten’s head turned towards the sound.

He walked towards you. His sly smirk transformed into a full-on grin by the time he reached you.

“Look who finally let her hair down,” Ten teased, twirling a soaked curl of your hair between his fingers.

You grasped Ten’s hand and pressed it against your chest, hoping he could feel your thundering heartbeat under his palm.

Ten’s brows quirked up.

Your words died on your lips. What did you want?

“I want – I want to be free like you,” you said, gulping. “I want… to be passionate like you. I want…”

Ten hummed, pretending to think.

Ten watched you with cold interest. “Is that all?”

“I want you,” you finally said.

“You just have to do one thing,” he said, trying not to smile.

“Anything,” you gasped.

“Close your eyes.”

You let your eyelids fall shut. Your whole body felt alive, every cell was pulsing.

At first, nothing happened. All you could feel was the rain splashing against your face. You stayed still, hoping, praying…

Then, suddenly, you felt warm, plump lips pressing against yours.

You gasped. You had never kissed your friend before. You didn’t even think you were his type. But the more you kissed, the more right it felt. It was like something had been missing in your relationship all these years, and this was it. Ten’s body against yours – that was what you had been craving.

You moaned against Ten’s lips, reaching your hands to tug through his soft, dyed hair.

Ten’s head tilted back, and a slow, sexy grin spread over his lips.

“Took you long enough,” Ten said, dark eyes raking down your body.

You let out a laugh. You pulled Ten towards you, feeling his arms curl around your waist.

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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allyeardepression · 2 months

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@jegulus-microfic | march 14 choice | words: 479

hi so i wrote this hangover and half asleep on a train after a gig so it’s probably not very good but hey it’s here! feel free to point out any mistakes and enjoy <3

Regulus walked down the stairs, pretending not to hear James calling his name. They just had an argument. Well, not really—Regulus was trying to convince the older boy that he wasn't worth his time, while James was trying to deny it. At one point, Regulus simply rolled up his sleeve, showing the Dark Mark on his forearm, and asked, "Do you still think I'm worth it? With this shit and everything it means?” He felt that tears were slowly flowing down his cheeks, but he didn't look away. James just stood there, stunned, staring at the black ink on Regulus' skin. It felt like he had been waiting for hours for the Gryffindor to look him in the eye, and when he finally did, all he saw were tears of what he assumed were pain.

And that’s how Regulus found himself, almost running down the stairs from Astronomy Tower, crying silently. As he reached the corridor leading to the stairwells, James finally caught up to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hidden alcove.

“Why are you running?” James asked breathlessly.

“If I stay, you’ll hate me,” he answered in a whisper. The other boy looked at him with still-glistening eyes and slumped shoulders.

“Oh, love,” James sighed, pulling Regulus to his chest and holding tight. “I could never hate you,” he added to his hair.

At that, Regulus fell apart, gripping James' shirt as if to tear it off, sobbing and shaking, grieving the life they could’ve had.

They stood there for a few minutes, Regulus crying hysterically and James gently rubbing his back, both holding on to each other for dear life.

"I know you, Reg," the taller boy began after a while, his voice trembling a little. “I know you are a good person; you care about others, and although you could hurt anyone if you wanted to, you wouldn't do it to an innocent person. I know where you grew up, I know what they are like, and I'm sure it wasn't your choice. So no. I don't and never will hate you.” When he finished, Regulus felt his hair become wet with tears falling from his lover's eyes. He took a step back to look at James. Even now, with all the crying and snotty noses, Regulus could see the other boy was being honest. James still loved and adored him.

“Do you?“ he hiccuped. “Do you mind if I stay the night at yours?” In response, James just smiled at him and slowly led them to the Gryffindor Tower.

They knew they would have to explain everything to Sirius and find a way to keep Regulus safe. But now, in the middle of the night, they just lay in bed, cuddled together, pretending there was no war going on and no trouble coming their way—tonight they were just teenagers in love.

#jegulus #starchaser #dead gay wizards #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #marauders #the marauders #hogwarts au

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daisies-daydreams · 3 months

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HIYA BABES 🥰✨ ITS ME AGAIN. Ready to sin 🙏. Bimbo reader with hobie brown..SOMETHING ABOUT THAT IDK..recently my page has been nothing BUT bimbo reader and i fell victim to them. Maybe something fluffy and airy? But def smut with it..but like in the beginning it can be that reader is getting ready to go out and obviously her outfit is bimbo core (I LOVE dressing like that.) short and pretty but definitely too revealing for outside, so hobie goes out with her (with consent). He’s like a guard dog but not to an overbearing point..hobie definitely knows he has nothing to worry about. Not when reader looks up at him like he hung the stars in the sky. The outfit definitely does things to hobie and yeah. Just a cute little date thing. Idk where the smut comes in from 😭 ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO HOLD MINE OFF IF YOU GET TOO OVERWHELMED. LOVE YA MUCH 💙✨ SO GLAD YOURE BACK

Juicy (Hobie Brown x F!Bimbo!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x F!Bimbo!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut Warnings: Depictions of Drinking/Hangovers, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Swearing, Hickeys, Oral Sex (F!/M! Receiving), Face Sitting (Reader on Hobie), 69, Nipple Play, Unprotected P in V (You Know the Drill), Missionary Position, Mating Press, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Aftercare Word Count: 6.6k+ A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so glad someone suggested Bimbo!Reader (the thought of that pairing has been eating me alive lol 🤭😳). I hope you enjoy! The reader's outfit is similar to this with a few changes

You paused when you stepped out of your room, your hoop earrings jingling softly as you tilted your head. You smiled gently when you saw your friend, Hobie, passed out on your couch. He’d usually come and crash at your place after long nights of playing shows or whatever mischief he found himself in. You hummed quietly as you grabbed one of your blankets and draped it over his lanky form.

“Sleep tight,” you whispered. You continued to hum to yourself as you sashayed to your bathroom, your hot pink crop top just barely hiding your tits as you reached into your medicine cabinet. You grabbed your lip gloss and mascara before shutting the mirrored cabinet. You swayed your hips side to side as an upbeat song played inside your head. You pursed your plump lips as you swiped your glossy, pink lip gloss across your mouth. You rubbed your lips together before puckering them out, smiling to yourself giddily as you set your lip gloss aside.

“Where you goin’ lovie?” Hobie hummed from the doorway. You gasped and dropped your mascara, the bottle hitting the porcelain sink with a loud “clink!”. You glanced over to see him lingering in the threshold of your bathroom.

“God, Hobie! You scared me!” you giggled. Hobie chuckled as he leaned on the doorframe.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Mhm,” you said with a suspicious, raised brow. You turned back to your mirror and unrolled your mascara. You arched your back a little as you leaned forward. “Anyway, I’m just heading to the pub down the street to watch the match. My stupid TV’s broken again,” you sighed as you brushed the thick, dark makeup across your lashes. Hobie pursed his lips.

“I told you I’d fix it for you,” he replied. You frowned and fluttered your lashes before applying a bit more.

“I know…but I don’t want to be a burden,” you said as you gazed at him with a slight frown. Hobie sighed before taking a step forward.

“You’ll never be a burden to me,” he said as he gently cupped your cheek. Your heart fluttered as he caressed your face with his warm palm. You laid a hand over his and smiled sweetly.

“Thank you, Hobie,” you beamed. The tall man before you nodded as he let his hand fall back to his side.

“No problem, love,” Hobie said. You tapped the tip of your white boot against the plush bathroom rug. His eyes scanned you up and down. “Would it be alright if I came with you tonight?” he piped up. Your eyes lit up as your heart glowed.

“Are you kidding? Of course you can come!” you giggled and wrapped your arms around him, your plump breasts pushing against his chest. Hobie chuckled as he patted the middle of your back.

“Sounds good. I’ll be waitin’ for you at the front door,'' he smiled brightly before slipping away. Your heart leapt as you finished getting ready. You slung your cute, pink purse over your white, fluffy jacket before walking into the living room. Hobie parted his lips as you walked out, your bra and thong peeking out of your crop top and short jean skirt.

“You ready to go?” you asked while biting your lip. Hobie swallowed thickly and nodded as he opened the door for you. “Why, thank you,” you beamed. The lanky man cleared his throat before he came up behind you. You raised a brow as he popped his elbow out.

“My, my. Aren’t you a gentleman,” you teased before slipping your arm into his. Hobie chuckled softly as the two of you walked out of your flat.

“What can I say - Nan raised me right,” he shrugged. You giggled as your hips swayed while the two of you began to make your way towards the pub. The cool night air washed over your form, goosebumps raising over your exposed skin as your boots clicked against the cracked pavement. You hummed as you pulled a cherry sucker out of your pocket, crinkling the wrapper and tossing it into a nearby bin.

“Not gonna eat there?” Hobie asked. You shrugged as you popped the sweet candy between your glossy lips.

“I might. I just like having something sweet before I drink,” you smiled brightly. You noticed Hobie’s gaze softened as he looked down at you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, the white stick poking past your plump lips. He opened his mouth to say something but suddenly grabbed you. You gasped as the lollipop fell from your lips when he pulled you back against his chest. A car honked loudly before barreling down the street, the vehicle swaying back and forth before making a sharp turn.

“Wanker,” Hobie scowled as he squeezed your arms. You blinked as you slowly turned towards him, your hands trembling as you placed them on his chest.

“T-Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing at the thought of being nearly squashed by that car. Hobie nodded, his hands slowly dropping from your arms as he smiled gently.

“You’re welcome, lovie,” he murmured. The tips of your ears warmed as you realized how close the two of you were, your hands still splayed across his chest. You bit your lip as you looked both ways.

“Right…guess we should head inside,” you grinned. Hobie returned your expression as both of you made your way into the crowded pub. The sounds of people charming and shouting erupted from the slightly cracked door. Your cheeks flushed as Hobie ghosted his hand over your lower back as you walked up to the front stand.

“Two for tonight?” a blonde hostess asked as she popped a bright pink bubble of gum. You nodded.

“Yes, please!” you chirped. The hostess checked a piece of paper before her eyes lit up.

“You’re in luck - a booth just opened up,” she beamed. You smiled as she grabbed two menus for you. You looked up and furrowed your brows as you watched Hobie remain strangely still, his eyes scanning over the crowd as his jaw tightened.

"Are you okay?" you whispered and nudged his arm. Your friend blinked and hummed.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Just spaced out," he shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. The hostess cleared her throat.

“Follow me,” the blonde grinned. You tugged on Hobie’s arm, slipping your own through the crook of his elbow as you followed the hostess through the crowd of people.

“Sorry!” you whispered loudly as you squeezed past several men. You noticed Hobie turned his head towards each man you passed before you finally stopped at a small, empty booth.

“Your server will be out any second. Enjoy!” the hostess chirped.

“Thank you!” you smiled brightly. The woman nodded before shuffling back to her post. You grinned as Hobie slid into the seat across from you. You sighed and squeezed your hands together, your glossy nails rubbing against the inside of your hands.

“So, how’s the band doing?” you asked excitedly. Hobie drummed his fingers on the table as he pursed his lips.

“They’re doin' well. Done a lot of shows recently, so we're taking a break for a bit," he said while scratching the back of his head. You hummed.

“That’s good,” you replied. "Where's your next show going to be?" you asked. Hobie pursed his lips as he drummed his fingers against the table.

"We're thinkin' of doin' it at Slotts' in a coupla weeks...but you don't know that," he whispered with a wink. You giggled and gave him a short nod.

"Of course," you winked back. You glanced down at your menu before the crowd erupted with cheers. You shifted your gaze to the TV: Chelsea just scored, several players jumping on the field and tackling each other.

“What ‘bout you? Haven’t seen you in a while,” Hobie piped up as he rested his hand over his menu, his silver rings shining beneath the dim light of the pub. You sighed and closed your menu.

“Nothing much. Still working as a bank teller these days,” you said in a bit of a despondent tone. Hobie nodded.

“So that’s where you keep getting that candy,” he chuckled. You giggled.

“Yeah. It’s become a real problem - I need to switch to something less hard soon,” you joked. The man across from you laughed, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling with mirth.

“You’ve got a real good sense of humor, (Y/N),” he chuckled. Your body flushed with heat as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Aw, shucks, Hobie,” you giggled. A server suddenly appeared in front of your table, his mouth curved into a perpetual frown as he stared at you.

“What can I get you?” he grunted. You smiled as you shuffled in your seat.

“Could I have a tall old speckled hen, please?” you asked. The man scribbled down on his notepad before turning to Hobie.

“Same f’me,” the tall man across from you replied. The waiter gave a silent nod before making his way over to the bar. Hobie turned his attention back to you.

“Old speckled, eh?” he raised a brow with an amused grin. You snorted.

“I’ll be able to handle it,” you said with a flippant wave of your hand.

Two Hours Later…

You met Hobie’s wide eyes as he stepped out of the bathroom.

“Hey, Hobie!” you giggled as you wobbled on your table. Several men were mesmerized by the way you swayed your hips to the music playing on the jukebox.

“Mamaaaaa! Oooooooh!” you belted, a few of the patrons joining in with you. You blinked as Hobie quickly pushed his way through the crowd, his brows knitted together as he flashed you a concerned look.

“Hobie!” you squealed before your ankle suddenly gave out. The man beneath you quickly steadied your standing; his large, warm hands bracing your legs as you hiccupped. “Come up and sing with me, Hobie!” you said as you wiggled your hips, the men around you hypnotized by your movements. You blinked as he squeezed your hand.

“C’mon, love. Let’s head on home,” Hobie sighed, his beautiful lips parted. You whined.

“But I’m having such a good time!” you pouted and started to stumble around on the tabletop. Hobie frowned as he brushed his thumb against the back of your palm.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he urged you with a pleading expression. You pouted before eventually sighing.

“Okay,” you murmured. Hobie kept his hands on your legs as you squatted down and started to crawl off of the table. The manager soon came out and gave you a deadly glare.

“The bloody hell is your girlfriend doin’?” he scoffed. You glanced down at your white boots while Hobie held you close to his side.

“She was just havin’ some fun, no harm done,” Hobie snapped back as he slung one of your arms over his shoulder. The manager sputtered as your friend guided you through the sea of swaying, drunk patrons. Your face grew hot when you realized the manager called you Hobie’s “girlfriend”. The thought made your body shiver slightly as your heart leapt beneath your sternum. You clumsily walked (more like dragged your feet) across the street, Hobie remaining by your side the whole time he guided you to the sidewalk.

“You’re so good to me, Hobie,” you cooed. He shifted his gaze over to you and smiled.

“I know, lovie,” he sighed softly. He gasped when you started to fall forward, your legs wobbling as he caught you. Hobie sighed as he threw one of your arms around his shoulder and hoisted you up. He studied your features before he parted his lips.

"What were you drinkin' so much for, anyway, hm?" your friend asked as he carried you towards flat. Your head spun as you frowned, your heart sinking a little even in your intoxicated state.

"I...I guess I just wanted your attention," you hiccupped. Hobie blinked, his features softening as you stumbled onto him. He grabbed your waist as you face planted into his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears as Hobie gently helped you back up, his large palm cupping your cheek as your vision began to fade.

"You've always had my attention, love”.

+++

You groaned as your head pounded, the room around you spinning as you slowly blinked your eyes open.

"Ugh, what the hell happened?" you asked groggily. You tensed when you felt someone's arms wrapped around your torso, their warm breath falling against the back of your neck. You swallowed thickly as you slowly turned your head, your body relaxing when you saw Hobie fast asleep beside you.

Hold on-

"HOBIE?!" you gasped as you scrambled onto your hands. His eyes instantly shot open as his breath hitched.

"(Y/N)?" he asked before drawing out a loud yawn. Your heart raced as his arms slipped away before he rubbed his eyes.

"What are you...how did we-" your mind was reeling as you tried to sort through your memory of last night. Hobie blinked a few times before he leaned on his side, his ripped, red shirt riding up his torso and revealing his lean abs. You bit your lip as your friend grunted beside you.

"You were completely smashed last night, so I carried you home," he explained nonchalantly. You slightly lowered your shoulders as you slowly nodded.

"Okay...but how did we...I mean, did we?" you made a few hand gestures while awkwardly glancing down. Hobie chuckled softly as he shook his head. "No?" you asked while perking your head up.

"No...you just asked me to stay with you," he said with a warm smile. You sighed and fell back onto your bed, your heart melting at his kindness.

"Thank God," you breathed. Hobie quirked a brow at your words. "No! I mean, not that I wouldn't, you know-" you groaned as you covered your face with your hands. Hobie remained quiet as he shifted beside you, his warm body barely caressing over yours.

"Do you want to?" he murmured. More heat rose to your cheeks as your throat tightened.

"You mean...have sex?" you breathed, each word growing more quiet with the last as your chest tightened. Hobie nodded as he leaned his head on his palm, his expression soft and inviting. You felt a spark of arousal light in your core as you gazed at his alluring, parted lips and down his dark, scruffy happy trail.

"You don't have to do anythin' you're uncomfortable with. I just-" Hobie's eyes widened as you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a heated, wet kiss. You closed your eyes and cupped his face as an insatiable hunger overwhelmed your body. Hobie sighed as he smoothed one of his hands over your hip, his other brushing over your face as he tilted his head.

You squeaked as he pulled you against his lithe body, something hard suddenly rubbing between your thighs as you moaned softly. Your lips glistened with your combined spit as you gulped for air. You shivered as Hobie stared into your eyes, his pupils blown wide and breath ragged as he squeezed the supple flesh of your hip.

"I thought you'd never ask," you confessed. You heard a low rumble rise from his throat before he dove back in. You trembled in his hold as he pressed his lips to yours, tenderly brushing over yours as he played with the band of your short skirt. You squealed as he slipped his warm tongue past your swollen, parted lips - his wet muscle eagerly dancing with yours as you bucked your hips forward.

"Fuck, you drive me wild, (Y/N)," he gasped before swiping his tongue along your lower lip. You panted and squeezed your thighs together as he kissed your chin and along your jaw, his fingers tugging on the thin band of your hot pink thong. "Every time I see you in one of these outfits, I have to stop myself from takin’ you right then and there," Hobie groaned before puckering his lips over your sensitive pulse. You pulled back a little as you laid your hands on his chest. He paused and deeply looked into your eyes.

“Please…don’t stop now. I never want you to stop,” you confessed with a low moan. A spark of lust ignited in his dark eyes as he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he murmured. Hobie quickly crashed his lips against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth in a passionate, sloppy kiss. You keened as he pecked along your jaw as his hands slid beneath your shirt and push-up bra. A soft moan escaped from your lips as he tenderly massaged your tits and brushed his calloused thumbs over your hard nipples.

"Bet your pretty pussy tastes just as sweet as you," he moaned into your ear before puckering his lips over your sensitive pulse. You nearly choked as he squeezed your nipples between his fingers, tugging on them gently as he ground his hips against yours at a faster pace. "Would you like that, sweet girl? My face stuffed between your perfect thighs?" Hobie grunted, his lips dancing over the fresh hickey on your neck.

"God, yes," you mewled as your walls fluttered at the thought of his thick, juicy tongue parting your puffy lower lips. Hobie grinned against your wet skin before slowly rolling onto his side. Your whole body trembled with anticipation as you watched him lie on his back, his eyes raking over your barely covered body. Your thighs shook as you slowly pulled your slightly soaked thong down your legs and kicked them aside with your short jean skirt.

“Take your time if you need to, baby,” he gently reassured. Your cheeks warmed at his caring voice while you bit your lip. You slowly raised your skirt up as you slotted your thighs across his lithe waist. Hobie groaned lowly as you crawled on top of him, his hands falling over your waist as you wiggled your hips.

"God, you're so fuckin' gorgeous," he murmured as he slowly slid his palms up and down your hips. You froze just before you reached his face, shivering as his warm breath fell over your slick folds.

“A-Are you sure about this?” you asked him with a gulp. "What if I break your neck or suffocate you?" you muttered and looked away. He raised his brows before leaning up and puckering his plump lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped and gently bucked your hips forward as he moaned against your dripping, warm sex. He released his mouth with a loud “pop” before gazing into your eyes.

“I want nothin’ more than to feel you sit-no, ride my face until my mouth is completely soaked with your cum,” he said lowly while licking his already glistening lips. A soft moan escaped from your throat as your cheeks swelled with heat. “C’mon, lovie. I won’t bite…unless you want me to,” Hobie smirked before licking a bold, sloppy stripe along your slit.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped as he pushed your hips down on his rugged face. You grabbed the headboard of your bed as he messily dug his tongue between your puffy labia, his nose grinding against your engorged clit. Your eyes rolled back as he audibly groaned into your cunt, his nails digging into your thighs as he voraciously devoured your sweet juices.

“God, Hobie,” you whined while gently grinding your cunt over his face, smearing your arousal across his lips and chin. Your jaw went slack when he swirled his wet muscle around your puffy bud, his fingers gently caressing your supple thighs as he flared his nostrils.

Your knuckles turned pale as you squeezed the headboard, your thighs quaking with every eager swipe of his soft tongue across your aching pussy.

“Yes,” you threw your head back and sobbed. Hobie’s eyes rolled back as you continued to rub your dripping cunt against his mouth, a low groan sending shivers through your quivering sex. The lewd, slick sounds of his tongue painting over your labia drive you further into a lustful frenzy.

“S-So good, baby,” you panted and nearly fell forward when he slipped his thumb over your swollen clit. The bed creaked as you thrusted a little faster, the feeling of his lip ring rubbing against your entrance making your head spin and thighs clench.

You squeezed your eyes shut as he massaged your tender button while sliding his tip past the rim of your tight entrance.

“Fuck!” you moaned as you felt the muscles in your lower stomach start to twist into a tight knot already. The way his tongue flicked and caressed your sex, his hot breath fanning over your clit every time his thumb came up - it was all too much.

“H-Hobie!” you cried as you fully sank down on his face. You heard him suck a sharp breath through his nose as your pussy pulsed against his smooth lips. Your breathing grew ragged as you white-knuckled the headboard, your bed creaking and groaning as he sloppily made out with your cunt. A sharp smack of his lips and swipe of his thumb finally made you tip over the edge. You cried and babbled incoherently as your jaw went slack, your legs shaking around his puffy wicks as your body grew rigid with bliss.

“S-Shit, Hobie,” you choked as your walls pulsed, your puckering hole gushing with your slick. A shiver ran down your spine as Hobie voraciously slurped up your juices - his tongue darting out and capturing every drop he could. You moaned as he continued to tenderly swipe his thumb across your bundle of nerves, his sharp chin supporting your perineum as he slowly blinked his eyes open.

It took a few moments before you slowly pulled your hips away from his face. Your jaw dropped when you saw how soaked his face was. Hobie chuckled as he swiped his tongue over his lips, his eyes half-lidded and completely mesmerized by your fucked-out expression.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said as you reached over to grab a tissue. You paused when he rested his hand over your wrist, a lopsided grin written over his sharp features.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it…I like it when my girl makes a mess,” he purred before pecking your swollen nub. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his warm lips glide over your sensitive bud before he swiped the tip of his tongue over it. But even more so…the fact that he called you his girl made your knees weak and legs turn to jelly. Hobie smirked as he smoothed his thumbs over your hips.

“You like it when I kiss your pretty clit like that, hm?” he chuckled before pressing a few more quick, wet kisses to your bundle of nerves.

“M-Mm yes,” you keened and squeezed your thighs against the sides of his head. Hobie furrowed his brows when you suddenly slid down his lithe body. You sighed as you pressed your breasts together and rubbed your fingertips over the button of his jeans.

“Lovie?” he murmured, his hickory eyes fixated on the gentle sway of your hips. Your heart skipped a beat as you played with the band of his pants.

“Please, Hobie. I wanna make sure you feel taken care of, too,” you breathed while trailing your hands down his dark happy trail. Hobie groaned as he propped himself up on his forearms.

“Alright…on one condition,” he said with a mischievous smirk. Your eyes widened as he suddenly flipped you around, your face hovering above his hard, throbbing, cock while his lips just barely grazed over your raw, swollen pussy. “You let me have a second serving,” he blew a puff of air over your labia. You squeaked as a pulse of heat swept through your core while he nibbled and tugged on your folds. You arched your back and let your legs rest over his chest.

“Please, Hobie,” was all you could manage, your mind growing more and more foggy with arousal. You whined when he suddenly pulled his face back.

“‘Please’ what, (Y/N)? Use your words, sweet girl,” he teased. You could practically feel the smirk on his face as he spread your asscheeks apart, his lips mere centimeters from your weeping sex. You keened and threw your hips back as you clutched the band of his jeans.

“Please let me suck your cock while you devour my pussy,” you moaned and wiggled your hips. Your jaw dropped when he suddenly dove between your supple cheeks, his tongue vigorously swirling around the seam of your tight hole. “S-Shit,” you groaned as you hastily unbuttoned his pants. The sound of his zipper mixed with the wet, sloppy noises of him indulging in the sweet flavor of your pussy. You gasped when you pulled down his black brief, revealing a long, veiny cock.

His dick throbbed as a thick bead of precum slid down his mushroomy tip. You licked your lips as you wrapped one of your hands around his base, the sudden feeling of his breath on your asshole making you whimper and twitch above him.

“Fuck, you taste divine,” Hobie growled before enveloping his whole mouth over your raw cunt. You squeezed the base of his cock, drawing a deep groan from your lover as you slowly swirled your tongue around his aching tip. You flared your nostrils as you slowly sank your mouth down on his bulbous head, your nails digging into his thighs as he parted the seam of your entrance with his long, writhing tongue.

You moaned around his dick as he gently thrusted his slick muscle into your hole, his hands squeezing and massaging your asscheeks as he grunted. You had to take a deep breath through your nose before you sucked in your cheeks and slowly sank your head down on his length. You flinched above Hobie when he gave a sudden, sharp thrust deep inside your core as your soft mouth glided along his veiny cock. You couldn’t help but lightly grind against his chin, your engorged clit deliciously rubbing against his warm skin as he pumped his long muscle along your velvety walls.

You only sank down halfway and already had to suppress the urge to gag, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as your throat tightened. You shifted above him, resting your arms across his upper thighs before wrapping one of your palms around the base of his cock. Hobie groaned into your pulsing heat while you stroked his length in time with bobbing your head.

“Fuck, just like that,” you heard his voice muffled into your folds before he dove back in. You squealed and dipped your head down a little faster while he slide his tongue back inside your tight little hole. The sweet smell of sex and sweat wafted through the air as the two of you moaned against each other.

“Can’t hold on much longer,” you thought as your eyes watered while he curled his pink tongue inside your slick, gummy cunt. You whined as you squeezed his shaft while slobbering over his hard, throbbing sex. Both of you grew more sloppy with your movements as you felt your body shiver and tense with pleasure. You squeaked when he dug his nails into the plush of your ass and slid his face back and forth, smearing your slick across his mouth and massaging your bundle of nerves with his chin.

You moaned and opened your throat up as your second orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling with bliss as you nearly choked on his long dick. Hobie inhaled deeply as he eagerly slurped up your juices, his tongue lashing in and out of your pulsing walls as your legs shook around his head.

“Yes!” you screamed internally as you squeezed the base of his heavy shaft. Your head spun as you sucked hard on his cock, drawing a deep growl from your lover. Your eyes shot open when you felt long, heavy ropes of his cum paint the back of your throat. You relished in the way his dick twitched against your tongue, the small groans that left his lips while he desperately bucked into your soft mouth.

You kept your cheeks hollowed and lips curled around his shaft as he panted beneath you, his body shivering and balls tightening under your hold. You gasped when Hobie suddenly slid his tongue out of you, his breathing ragged as he pumped his ups up.

“Mmm, baby girl,” he moaned as the last stream of his cum splashed against your raw esophagus. You let his dick rest against your tongue for a few seconds before you slowly pulled your mouth away with a wet “pop”. You gasped for air, your lungs burning a little as you trembled above him.

“How you feelin’?” Hobie asked as he smoothed his hands over your hips. You licked your slightly swollen lips before eyeing a thick bead of white leaking from his tip. You smirked and pressed your lips to his head. Hobie’s breath hitched when you swiped the tip of your tongue across his slit before swirling it around his entire head.

“Good,” you replied as you peeked over your shoulder and wiggled your hips again. Hobie’s chest rose and fell below your stomach as he rubbed your waist.

“God, you’re incredible,” he suddenly praised before pecking your cunt for the last time. You tried to steady yourself as you climbed off of him, your limbs shaking like leaves on a tree while you rolled beside your lover. Hobie’s eyes sparkled with affection as he gazed at your flushed face.

“Lovie, I know that was a lot…but do you think you’d be able to handle one more?” he panted while slinging one of his arms around your back. Your eyes widened a little as he mindlessly traced his fingers along your hip and lower back, his eyes soft and half-lidded as he eyed your body. You took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes,” you whispered while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You sure?” Hobie asked, his voice still dripping with lust yet carrying a gentle tone with it. You grinned and nodded.

“I’m sure, Hobie. But…won’t you need some help getting…you know-“ you blushed and looked down at his now soft cock between his legs. Hobie chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose, the smell of your arousal clinging to his face making your cheeks swell with heat.

“Don’t worry about me...right now, all I want to do is make sure the world knows your mine,” Hobie’s breath hovered over your neck as his hands slid up your stomach. He sat back on his knees and tossed his shirt aside before kicking his pants on the floor. You gasped when he pressed his body against yours and began to grind his cock against your swollen folds. You moaned and spread your legs a little more as he unzipped your jacket, letting the puffy fabric fall open to reveal your hot pink crop top.

“Mmm look at you,” Hobie kissed your ear as he rolled your shirt over your shoulders. You shivered as his nimble fingers expertly unclasped your bra and tossed it on the floor. You blushed and turned your head as you laid completely exposed beneath him, your perky nipples hardening as he sucked in a sharp breath. “God, you’re perfect,” Hobie murmured as he slid his fingers up your sides. Your face flushed as you bit your lip.

“H-Hobie,” you breathed. You felt him smile against your skin while he brought his hands back up to your breasts. You flinched as he suckled on your neck while tenderly squeezing your tits. He rocked his hips forward, drawing a high-pitched moan from your lips as his cock glided over your sopping wet sex.

“Fuck,” you hiccupped while Hobie tilted his head and licked a long stripe over your raw hickey. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck as he squeezed and pinched your sensitive nipples. Your mind grew fuzzy as the tip of his dick rubbed against your swollen clit, his veiny cock spreading your slick labia apart with every stroke.

“Makin’ such cute noises f’me,” he chuckled lowly before lightly tugging on your buds and sucking against your neck again. You snapped your head back and arched your spine as you felt his wet, warm lips curl over your skin, his dick starting to twitch and harden against your aching sex.

“Mmm!” you whined as the bed began to creak and groan beneath his rutting. You dipped your head into his thin shoulder as he bunched the supple flesh of your breasts within his large palms. Your breath stuttered as he sloppily kissed down your neck and nipped at your collarbone.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Hobie growled. You whined when he suddenly pulled away, his cock slipping from your sex as he panted wildly. “Need you now, baby. Please,” he grunted. Lust brightly flickered in his eyes as he grabbed your waist, his thumbs squeezing the plush of your hips as he breathed heavily. You felt a spark of pleasure rush through your core as he lined the tip of his dick to your weeping entrance, your legs falling on either side of his hips as he squeezed your waist. Your breasts jiggled as you sucked in a deep breath and leaned forward.

"Make this pussy yours, Hobie," you moaned into his ear. Your jaw went slack when he quickly sheathed his length deep inside you, his cock pulsing as your pussy squeezed him in a tender, vice grip.

“Oh my God,” Hobie groaned as your juicy walls sucked him in, enveloping his long shaft in a warm, vice grip. The two of you remained still for a moment as you adjusted to his size. He furrowed his brows and breathed heavily before opening his eyes again. “Just let me know when you’re ready,” Hobie whispered, his lips dancing over yours as his cock twitched inside you. You took a deep breath and slid your ankles over the back of his thighs.

“Y-You can move,” you breathed as you gripped onto him. Hobie gave you a warm smile before he slowly pulled his hips back. A rush of pleasure ran down your spine as he stretched your hole wide open, his cock massaging your soft walls as his tip bumped into your cervix.

“God, you feel so good around me,” Hobie sucked in a sharp breath as he pumped his hips in a steady rhythm. You whined as he crashed his lips against yours, the heady taste of your arousal slipping against your tongue as he moaned into your mouth. Electricity danced across your skin as goosebumps rose over your body each time his hips came into contact with yours.

“H-Hobie,” you spoke up right as he pulled away from your sloppy kiss. He grunted in reply as he continued to thrust into your snug sex. You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks. “It's okay - I don’t want you to hold back,” you reassured him while cupping his sharp cheek. His pace slowed as he furrowed his brows.

“You sure, lovie?” Hobie asked, his voice laced with concern. You nodded before gasping as he pushed your legs up, his hands squeezing the back of your knees before he snapped his hips forward.

“Fuck!” you cried out as his tip slammed against the plug to your womb. The bed shook beneath his rough, heavy thrusts while his plump balls slapped against your asscheeks.

"Yes, s-shit you feel so good," Hobie panted as he nearly folded you in half. "So fuckin' hot and tight," he groaned while pistoning his hips forward, his cock sinking deeper and deeper inside of your clenching hole. You cried and thrashed beneath him, your pleasure bordering on pain as your cunt tightened around his cock.

"Gonna be a good girl and cum f'me, yeah?" Hobie breathed as he squeezed the back of your legs. You nodded as you moaned and babbled incessantly.

"Yes, please, k-keep going!" you cried out as his thick tip massaged your soft, sensitive g-spot. Stars began to dance in your field of vision as the muscles in your lower tummy grew unbearably tight.

"Hobie!" you screamed as you snapped your hips forward, your cunt violently pulsing around his shaft as a pure bliss pierced through your core. White flooded your vision as your entire being trembled, your pussy soaking his throbbing dick with your sweet cum while he moaned into your ear.

"Shit, baby," he gritted his teeth as your walls clamped down on his length. You sobbed uncontrollably as your legs trembled in his hold, your mind numb with an indescribable pleasure. "Grippin' me so fuckin' tight, such a good - fuck - girl," Hobie rasped as his thrusts began to falter. You parted your lips and gasped as if breaking free from drowning. Your body glowed with euphoria as your lover's breath grew short with each pump of his cock.

"W-Where do you want me?" he shivered while gazing into your tear-filled eyes.

"Inside!" you squealed as his taut lower stomach brushed over your clit. Your jaw dropped when he buried himself deep inside your core, his moans reverberating inside your ears as his cock swelled and throbbed.

"G-Good girl," Hobie rumbled as he shallowly pumped his hips while shooting streams of his thick, heady seed against your swollen cervix. You dug your nails into his glowing skin as he nearly choked, your walls greedily sucking him in as he drenched your walls with his cum. You felt like your body was drifting in the heavenly waters of a warm ocean as he gently thrusted into you a few more times, your sex squelching wetly as his cock deliciously rubbed along your raw walls.

"Christ," Hobie panted as his hold on the back of your knees softened. You slowly blinked your eyes open, tears falling past the rim of your eyelids. Your love swallowed thickly before he kissed your calf, a patch of goosebumps breaking out over the small area as you gulped.

"Please tell me we're doing another round - I think I need a breather first," you sighed. Hobie chuckled as he slowly helped you lie your legs back onto the messy sheets.

"We could just stay here if you'd like," he said with a bright grin. You nodded and took a deep breath, your heart still pounding against your sternum and body shivering with bliss.

"Yes, please," you murmured. Hobie smiled softly as he slowly pulled out of you, his cock drenched with your combined juices and inner thighs caked with slick. You sighed as he shifted behind you, wrapping one of his lanky legs over yours and sliding an arm over your stomach.

"Do you think we could do this again sometime?" you asked. Hobie hummed against your neck, his puffy wicks tickling your ear as he tilted his head.

"Do what, lovie?" he murmured before kissing over the blanket of hickeys laid across your pulse. Your breath hitched for a moment as he pulled you against his warm body. You slid your hand down and threaded your fingers through his.

"I guess I meant to ask...are we an item now?" you said aloud. Hobie squeezed your hand as you glanced over your shoulder, his smile soft and melting you to the core.

"I mean, I figured that the second my lips hit yours was the moment that sealed it," he chuckled. You giggled and shifted a little more to softly peck his lips. Hobie sighed as you fully turned around, your front pressed against his as he brushed his long, nimble fingers through your hair. Your heart skipped a beat as you parted, your eyes dancing with a warm love you haven't felt in so long.

"I love you, Hobie Brown," you whispered softly while rubbing his upper back. Your boyfriend returned your gentle smile as he kissed your forehead.

"I love you, too, (Y/N) (L/N)," he grinned ear to ear.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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insane-brit · 11 months

Text

Royalty (Ch. 1)

Muzan Kibutsuji x Soulmate!fem!reader

Part links: Prologue, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three

Tags/warnings: Dialogue, slow burn, dark story/themes, enemies to lovers (or maybe just enemies. who knows), spoilers for Mugen Train Arc, slight spoilers for Entertainment District Arc, slight jealousy, talks of death, worry, anxiety, past memory, some pain, masking worry with optimism.

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love on the Prologue. I am excited to continue this story and feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters. This story will be a slow burn as I don’t want to rush it.

Also, I plan to stray from the canon story as this is a fanfic and AU, but will loosely have parts of the canon story incorporated.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word count: 2.5K

“That little girl is not even 8 yet! She shouldn’t be feeling this way Sakonji!” The older woman whispered.

“I know, but there’s not much you can do.”

“Not much I can do? Well, there must be something! I’m not going to stand idly by and watch my granddaughter’s mind deteriorate!”

Hina’s eyes drilled into the angry red mask. She was at a loss, and no one knew how to aid her. There weren’t many people she could go to, much less that she trusted, but out of anyone she thought Urokodaki would have something for her.

“What do you expect me to do Hina? Call upon the spirits and command them to give her a bond? I understand that this is devastating, but that is not how this works.”

The lantern burned low in the hut. A mere hour or two of fuel left before it would cast the room into darkness. The two adults sat next to each other, and farther in front of them, a little girl lay on a dark futon seemingly sound asleep. A lighter-colored blanket covered her form up to her neck, her back facing them. Hina lowered her head to her hand, palm raised to cover her eyes.

“Don’t take me for an idiot. I just don’t know what to do. How do I explain to her that she may never receive a thread?”

Urokodaki remained silent looking at the sleeping child. Turning his head barely to look at the woman.

“You be direct. False truths will only cause more pain in the end.”

She took a sharp breath in, letting the hand fall from her face and onto her lap with a faint smack. “You’re telling me what I don’t want to hear.”

“I know, but you already knew what I was going to say. Now it’s up to you to inform her. I refuse to be the one to do so.”

She paused, looking at her granddaughter before nodding her head.

He gently put his hand on her back, an attempt at consolation. “Get some rest. You traveled a long way and need your energy for the journey home.” He stood up, walking over to the door before turning to look at her sitting form. “I won't be long. Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

Hina lightly scoffed at his remark, rolling her eyes as he closed the door softly behind him. She scooted over to the little girl, leaning down and placing a kiss on the side of her head.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry fate has treated you this way,” She brushed some hair away from the girl’s face. “But I know in my heart you’ll do great things. Soul tie or not.”

Hina turned over, snuffing the lantern out before laying down herself. Unbeknownst to her, her granddaughter opened her eyes, gazing at what little she could see of the wooden walls. Her eyes were dull as the conversation between Urokodaki, and her grandmother circled in her mind. May never get one? Why? Did she do something wrong? Did-

“Hey… are you even listening to me?”

A hand waved in front of her face, knocking her from her stupor. Startled, she whipped her head to gaze at the white-haired man stationed next to her. His fuchsia eyes glowered at her form, which was off in its dream world.

“Yeah,” she blinked a few times. “I’m listening.”

The former smile on his face was downturned. His eyes narrowed as he raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you're a terrible liar, and it’s not very flashy of you.”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Tengen, I don’t need a lecture. Especially from you.”

Hands raised in defense; he leaned back against the stone in front of the Butterfly Mansion. The sun’s rays reached far into the sky as it lowered itself on the horizon. Igniting the land in warmth and an array of rich tones. It was almost blinding, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes. The Sound Hashira hummed next to her; eyes closed with a small smile on his face. Ever since the arrival of Tanjiro Kamado and his younger demon sister, Nezuko, tensions were high among the slayers. As much as she wanted to think she wasn’t wary at first, the Echo Hashira would be deceiving herself if she did. However, with the bittersweet victory of the Mugen Train, her judgment of the small slayers had shifted. She supposed Tomioka was right to have given them a chance, but it amazed her that it was him of all people. She would have to show her gratitude to him but at a different time.

The death of Kyojuro Rengoku following the defeat of Lower Moon One exhibited the harsh reality of their day-to-day life. She was cognizant of the dangers and death that danced in their shadows, but this was another kind of pain. A wound that wouldn’t stay closed and leaked as if weeping for the fallen Pillar. Which she did often alone late at night. No one was around to see her walls barren, unguarded and splayed for anyone to see the rising tide that was her emotions. While she wasn’t as close to the Flame Hashira as she would’ve desired, she knew him well enough to call him her friend. Tengen on the other hand, was closer to Kyojuro than anyone. On a handful of occasions, she had caught him mourning. She never approached him in these moments no matter how close they were. It felt too raw and private, and if he knew she had seen him, he never confronted her about it.

“Were you thinking about your bond again?” Tengen said cracking one eye open.

“When am I not?”

“So, you were thinking about it!” He teased, a wider smile gracing his features.

“Bold of you to assume that’s the only thing on my mind.” She grumbled massaging her temple. Tengen was the only person besides the Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother to know that she didn’t have a soul tie. It is well known that bonds form in the early stages of life and it has never been heard of to have one materialize after 5 years of age. However, it has also never been heard of not having one at all. At least, until she never got one. She waited for years, staring intensely at her wrist to see the red thread assemble itself before her eyes. Stretching to the one that was supposedly meant for her, but it never came. Over the years she had wishful thinking that dwindled to a mere flame that had eventually snuffed itself out. There was no point in longing for one when she was now at the ripe age of 22. Her time had come and gone, but regardless of saying that, deep down she still hoped. Why? She had no idea, but it constantly plagued her. Even more so, she had no idea why she decided Tengen out of all people was the one to confide this information to. The Master, Urokodaki, and her grandmother made sense, but him? She’s surprised he hasn’t run that mouth of his. The anxiety she felt at anyone else knowing weighed on her mind daily. She did not doubt that people would find it taboo, no matter how progressive the world became.

Tengen sighed at her words. “I assumed nothing. I only made an observation and I have no doubt there are more worries in that head of yours.”

“And what about you? Don’t you have your own? What about Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru?”

“I haven’t heard from them,” she turned to look at him as he spoke. “Their letters stopped coming a while back.”

Silence rose between the two of them. She could see the conflict in Tengen’s eyes. He cared greatly for his wives as they did him. She had met them a few times and saw first-hand just how important and beautiful their relationship was. Lucky bastard. Though his family was known for having multiple soul ties. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, but happiness for all four of them.

“Will you be going to look for them?”

“Yes,” he grunted standing up from the cobble where they both were sitting. “You can come along if you want. I could use that breathing style of yours.”

She stood up alongside him, wincing, her back aching from the firm ground. Aoi and the others would have her head knowing that she wasn’t maintaining her health in light of recent events.

“That all depends on the Master, but I would be happy to lend a hand,” the corners of her lips upturned slightly as she looked at him and then at the darkening sky. “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

Despite his growing smile, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. “Great! I need to gather a few more items,” he drawled, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “But then we should be ready to head out in a few days.”

She shook her head. Whatever was going on in that bare brain of his she sincerely hoped it was something good, but she didn’t pry.

“I think I’ll go on ahead of you. I can see if I can get any leads on those three and meet up with you in Yoshiwara.”

“Come on,” Tengen groaned. “I would like to have someone I like to talk to travel with me.”

She shook her head in defiance. “You know my breathing style does better when I’m alone. It’s not as big of a risk, and I don’t think the Sound Pillar”- she pointed at him- “wants to lose his hearing.”

They both smiled at each other, a few breathy laughs escaping from their mouths. Her style, Echo breathing, relied on high frequencies that were known to be a danger to group efforts. There have been more than a handful of accidents in the past, many she’s not proud of, which is why the executive decision was made for her to do missions alone. However, Master Kagaya occasionally granted her to travel in the company of others. It did get quite lonely at times, but she preferred the safety of others over satisfying the sociable aspect of herself.

Tengen hummed, “I suppose you’re right. Though, it would be a very extravagant way to retire. Having a comrade kill off my hearing.”

She kicked some stones his way. “I’ll let you know what the Master says. If granted, I’ll leave at dawn, but for now, I’m going to get some well-deserved rest.”

He let out a loud laugh and gestured some form of what she assumed to be a goodnight. “If not, I’ll drag you there myself.” He exclaimed before strutting off to who knows where.

She studied him as he disappeared into the estate’s shadows. He couldn’t fool her. Despite his optimistic exterior, he was terrified. She could recognize that kind of spirit anywhere as many of the same haunted her. And for his sake, she hoped that those three were alive. If they were to perish, she didn’t think he would ever recover. He would be a shell of a man and taper off into misery. She couldn’t bear to see his downfall.

--------------------------------------------------------

Lying in her room in the mansion, the Echo Pillar was restless. Sleep evaded her and instead, her psyche was infested with dread. Shinobu had been kind enough to offer her residence temporarily following her previous assignment, along with Aoi and the butterfly girls helping her in any way they could. She was forever in their debt and thinking of them brought a smile to her face despite the growing pit in her stomach.

Earlier, her crow had returned with word from Master Kagaya. Said message permitting her to venture out to Yoshiwara, a red-light district all too familiar. It’s not that she had any history with the district, but rather passed through it on multiple occasions. Therefore, becoming acquainted more than she ever thought she would. Lucky for her, that will come in handy.

What she didn’t understand was why she was filled with apprehension. It was like her body and mind were working against her. This had only ever been a problem when she was a beginner slayer, but as she rose in the ranks she learned to deal with these sentiments. Fear was a constant. It never went away, but confidence and vengeance outweighed it in every circumstance. So why was it so prominent now?

Sighing, she turned her head to gaze at the aperture that granted the moon entry. Its rays highlighted every surface in a delicate glow. Night, despite its tendency to harbor barbaric creatures was a time she always looked forward to. The darkness leaked like ink and grasped at the innocent, but it provided comfort to those in need. She could never loathe it.

Her muscles ached. No position good enough to lull her into unconsciousness’s sweet embrace. Abruptly, what felt like a fire erupted down her arm. Its path licked under her pallid flesh and burned away at her veins. Sitting up faster than ever before, she clutched her forearm. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard, iron filled her mouth in a matter of seconds. Nails dug into tender flesh as something slithered through her arm. Confusion swarmed her mind. Was this from the previous demon she fought? There was no way, that thing’s blood demon art couldn’t have done this. It would’ve already taken effect and finished her off by now. Regardless, she was dangerously close to finding a solution to the rapidly growing pain. Tucking her arm, she hoisted herself onto her knees. Her head ducked low and her eyes went wide, her skin felt clammy. Under the palm of her hand that was grasping her arm, a deep red glow oozed out. Limbs shook as she slowly raised her hand away from the skin. The vessels excreted a scarlet substance under the complexion of her arm. Spreading agonizingly slow towards the wrist. Her breathing grew heavy as terror’s maw tore her insides, and through a clouded mind, she watched as a thread, red as wine, circled her wrist. It traveled through her fingers caressing them before pulling taught. The tightening in her arm caused her to clench her fist. The thread continued, creeping around her extremity before elongating to the slightly cracked door. Its length was ongoing. A feeling of bliss stroked up her arm replacing the pain and she let out a shuttering breath. The thread pulsed and she could feel it dilating under her skin.

Pure shock all but made her heart stop. “How…how is this possible?”

She gently rubbed the thread between the pads of her fingers. Its texture was coarse and some of the bristles pricked her skin.

She finally had the sanctified bond she had always longed for.

Her other half.

Her soulmate.

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wordstome · 7 months

Text

Shrike pt. 3 - who we are

König x high school sweetheart reader

2nd person, she/her pronouns, reader is Austrian/has lived in Austria and speaks German for most of the story, romance, pining, friends to lovers, reader's nickname is Thorn, König's first name is Alexander, absolute tooth rotting fluff, corny as hell towards the end

2.8k words

tw: physical and emotional abuse, violence (chokehold, stabbing, throat slitting)

Hello to everyone reading this from my main blog! In case you haven't seen the pinned post on bucca2, this is my new writing blog. Everything I publish will be here on wordstome now. Please feel free to unfollow bucca2 and follow me here!

also PARIS PALOMA TEASED HER NEW SONG "DRYWALL" JUST FOR SHRIKE CHAPTER 3 SPREAD THE WORD

[PART 1] [PART 2 (PREV)] [MASTERLIST]

What I had left here I just held it tight So someone with your eyes Might come in time To hold me like water Or Christ, hold me like a knife

When you’re in total darkness, your eyes adjust. You can see everything around you, but it’s all devoid of color. Then when the light turns on, it blinds you, but it’s better to be blinded momentarily than to live in the dark forever.

That’s how it feels as you prepare to travel home. To escape. You’re antsy, excited and petrified at the same time. Before, it felt like the days flew past in a murky haze. Now, even the seconds crawl.

It feels like moving in a dream, like you’ll wake up any day now and it will all be taken away from you. Your hope, your new dreams for the future, your König.

A shiver runs through you. Where did “your König” come from?

When you’re not occupied with the anxiety of keeping such a huge secret from your husband, all you think about is König. You’ve spent the past few weeks in a haze, like he’s put some sort of spell on you. You do get a kick out of imagining him as a witch with a hat and cauldron.

But you know it’s something simpler than that. All the feelings you used to have for him have returned. It’s different than the heady rush you used to get with your husband. It feels sweeter, like you really are a teenage girl with a crush all over again.

It feels naïve, but you also don’t care. You feel safe despite the situation you’re still in, for the first time in a long time. You never would have expected to see König again—even less so for him to become your saving grace.

It seems silly in hindsight that you had been so frightened of him. Sure, the mask was a lot. But it had been something about his energy. It was different than you had ever felt from him, before or after your reunion. If he was that way on the battlefield, then no wonder he had earned the nickname König. You’re not sure if it scares or awes you.

You’re about to find out.

An anxiety attack is the worst feeling in the world.

You dry heave. Your chest feels like a roiling ball of angry carrion birds hollowing you out. You shake like a leaf in the wind. You fall down a long, dark pit of despair as your stomach seizes with nausea.

The train’s delayed. There’s been an issue with the tracks leading out of the city. No trains will be leaving for 12 hours.

You should have just sat in the terminal and waited, or tried to contact König, but you’re not thinking straight. All of your thoughts are focused on your husband, and what he’ll do if he comes home and finds you gone. You decide, somehow, that it would be wiser to throw yourself back into the lion’s den and pretend everything’s alright instead of waiting for him to come raging into the train station and pull you out by the hair. The thought of that is the only thing that gets you up off the wall you were hyperventilating against and back towards home.

The plan is to get home before he does and hide your suitcases. He’s usually not home by this time, anyway. You chalk the rising sense of dread in the pit of your stomach up to your anxiety and turn the handle to go in.

Fuck.

He’s standing in the kitchen.

The years have not been kind to him. He’s far from the charming young man you married. He’s wretched, unkempt, angry. It’s clear he’s been drinking, maybe even before he left work. The shadows etch themselves into the lines of his face as his expression twists into something awful, inhuman. You stand, frozen, as he approaches you.

“Planning a trip without me?” he asks with an awful grin.

You can still salvage this. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I just received word. My mother’s not doing well. I have to go see her.”

“You lie like a whore,” he snarls. “Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention. You’re different nowadays. Not the nice obedient woman I married.”

Your fear turns to anger in an instant. Years and years of this horseshit, waiting on him hand and foot, placing his smallest whims before your own needs and wants—it rushes up through you like hot steam. His nice obedient woman. And the worst thing is, you hate that he’s not wrong. That is what you’ve become.

“Yesterday I came home and you hadn’t even started dinner. Where were you, huh? Running around on me behind my back?” It’s difficult to describe, but his smile is oily: sleazy, untrustworthy, dangerous. “With that big fuck in a hood that came here with the mercenaries, perhaps?”

Your blood runs cold at that. Has he seen you with König? When? Why hasn’t he said anything? It feels like you’re stepping into a trap, but you must move forward if you want to get out.

“He’s going to get what’s coming to him, alright. My manager has a direct line to his boss. One word from him will get that fucker deployed to the middle of nowhere on a suicide mission.”

It’s an absurd threat, and you know it. This drunken idiot has no idea what he’s talking about—as if some middle-management bureaucrat could persuade a PMC to dispose of a soldier like König. But it’s the audacity that irks you. You’ve lived your life serving this man for too long, and now he thinks the world will bend to his whims. There’s absolutely no way he can touch König, but an old and familiar anger rises in you.

A long overdue revelation dawns on you now. He’s a bully. The same as Andreas: little boys with petty insults and empty threats. Pushing people around because their own lives are empty and unsatisfying.

An eerie calm breaks through you like the sky cutting through a storm. The man before you is just a feral animal, snarling and snapping in desperation. You’re not afraid of him anymore.

You reach behind you and slowly roll open the knife drawer, grabbing the first one your fingers land on.

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving this house, this country, and this marriage,” you say, gripping the knife in a defensive position. Your father taught you how to hold a knife like this: backwards, with the blade along your arm, sharp edge facing outwards.

“This way, it’s much more difficult for someone to turn the blade against you,” he had told you, demonstrating the motion by moving your arm towards your chest. The memory makes you smile. At the time, you’d been indulging your old man—he had always said that violence was a last resort, but that the world was unkind and one day you may have to defend yourself. He was right, just as he was when he told you he had reservations about your marriage.

You’re going home. You’re going to see your father again. And you’ll never have to tolerate the loathsome toad before you again.

The beast laughs. “What do you think you’re going to do with that? Stab me?” He’s up against you before you can react, the breath leaving your lungs in a gasp as he pins you against a wall by the throat.

“You. Are. Mine. You will never raise a hand against me because I own you,” he hisses, his alcohol-laced breath foul against your face. “And it’s high time you remembered that.” His grip tightens like an iron vice around your throat, but you’re not afraid. Even as your vision begins to blur and blacken, you stare directly into his eyes. They’re like red-hot coals of fury, but you see what’s behind them now. The fear. The cowardice of a desperate man who has no recourse but to lay his hands on someone who can’t fight back.

“You’re pathetic,” you rasp, lips tugging into a smile. The coals burn brighter. The hand squeezes tighter. The adrenaline surges through you like a tide—and your body acts to protect itself, in a way that you haven’t allowed it to in a long time. A feeling as sweet and familiar as an old friend.

The knife makes its home right between his ribs.

He staggers away from you, as if you had slightly winded him instead of stabbed him in the heart. Your hands instantly go to your throat as you cough and sputter, lightheaded and dizzy but alive, so alive. You’ve never felt so alive as you do right now, watching the demon of your own personal hell look down at the blade sticking out of him.

“You stupid little bitch—” He makes as if to lunge at you, but time slows. Your eyes widen as the shadows behind him melt and solidify into a figure. Tall and hooded. No knight in shining armor, but an assassin of deepest night.

König slashes through your husband’s throat in one deadly, beautiful motion.

Your husband falls to the ground like dead weight, gasping and choking on his own blood. Your eyes are fixed on him, a strange sensation bubbling through you. You’re making some kind of noise, loud and cacophonous, as König steps over the dying animal who has controlled you your whole adult life.

His arms find their way around you as you slowly sink to the ground, howling and wailing. He’s so patient, you think numbly with some corner of your mind that remains untouched by the mania seizing the rest of you. The two of you sit there, his body warm and solid against yours, as your body slowly exits fight or flight mode.

“Alex?” you say hoarsely once you’re in your right mind again.

“I’m here,” he rumbles.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the hood off his head. There he is, your Alexander, all grown up. He’s rugged, with nasty-looking white scars streaked across his face, but so, so handsome. His eyes are still the same as he looks at you with something akin to rapturous adoration. Your green-eyed boy.

“You’re back, rosethorn,” he says with a wide grin. There’s a touch of madness to it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Was I…” Exhaustion sets in, seeping through your whole body. “Was I crying or laughing just now?”

He shifts you onto his lap, cradling you like a baby as you look up at him.

“I think you were laughing.”

The police release you after just over half an hour of questioning.

You aren’t going anywhere, of course. They’re leaving you, exiting your hospital room with murmurs of well-wishes for your health. They’ve hardly left the room when König comes striding in, instantly moving to your bedside and holding your hand in his.

He looks tired too, his eyes soft as he takes in your small smile. You’re sure he was being interrogated for much longer than you, but it looks like he passed muster as well. Not as if you had anything to worry about—what could the local police have done to the commander of the mercenaries taking down their local terrorist cell anyway?

“Are you alright? Did they clear you?” His expression hardens as he glances at your neck. You nod weakly. Your throat is going to be bruised for a while, but your attacker hadn’t done any lasting damage.

Attacker. Husband. Corpse. All of these words describe the same thing now.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he says mournfully. “He shouldn’t have had the chance to attack you like that.”

You shake your head at him. He didn’t know that you weren’t on the train heading home, after all. The room is quiet for a few moments, save for the distant beeping of a heart monitor.

“Why…” you manage to ask. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“Why was I there?” He glances around to make sure nobody’s listening, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I was there to kill him, of course.”

You shudder a little. He admits it so casually, that he was in your house because he was there to commit a murder. You should be afraid of him, but you feel around in your brain and come up empty-handed.

Instead, you find yourself worried. For him. “What if you had gotten in trouble?”

He snorts. “You underestimate me, rosethorn. I would have just framed it as a robbery.”

You nod. Oh God…does that mean he had planned this? Why doesn’t that horrify or disgust you? You’re just going to have to dissect that later. Right now, you only feel a warm affection towards the man stroking his thumb along your hand in a soothing motion.

“So…what comes next?”

“You’re asking me? We can do whatever you like. I can take you home.”

Home. Where is that, now? It’s certainly not in the house you’ve left behind, where the ghost of the man you were married to settles in every nook and cranny. It doesn’t feel like your childhood home where your parents are, either.

It’s such a corny saying, “home is where the heart is”. But home feels like it’s already here, sitting next to your hospital bed with the fondest look in his eyes.

“I’d like to travel,” you whisper. The with you goes unspoken.

“I have plenty of leave time saved up.”

You flip your hand so you can hold his. It’s huge next to yours. This is the hand that slit your husband’s throat, a hand that has killed countless people.

You’re not sentimental enough to pretend that’s not an issue. You’re not entirely sure this is happily ever after: that all of your problems are solved because you’ve replaced one violent man with another. But another part of you yearns to be the one who gets protected. You’ll take care of König, and you know he’ll take care of you. In his own way.

You can ask the questions later. Right now, you have lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that scarf?”

The air is cold, but the wind is soft instead of feeling like tiny blades against your face. You tug said scarf down from your face and take in a lungful of crisp, icy air.

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure König as he hauls himself up the last ridge to where you’re standing. “It’s loose enough. And it’s chilly.”

“If you say so.” He tugs his neck gaiter further up his nose. “What a view, hm?”

You’re standing on Mont Blanc, blanketed by serene white snow just as the name promised. Further below you, the skiing slopes are crawling with tourists, but here in this little outcropping, the only sound is the occasional rush of wind and your voices.

“I think I can see Salzburg from here,” you say, pointing off into gorgeous landscape spread out before you.

“That is most certainly still Switzerland,” König says, amused. You turn to look at him instead and are rewarded with his shining green eyes looking right back at you.

“Whatever!” You let out a dissatisfied hmph, which draws a hearty laugh from him.

“You came all the way to Chamonix just so you could look at Austria again?”

“It’s a very tall mountain,” you argue.

“It’s one of many very tall mountains. We could have just gone to Großglockner.”

“That’s boring. I’ve always wanted to visit France.”

“You wanted to visit a very expensive ski chalet.”

“Bite me.”

“I just might!” You giggle and squeal as he grabs you, chasing your face with his as you squirm around.

“It is beautiful,” he concedes as he holds a hand above his eyes to keep off the sun. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“I should push you off this peak right now.”

“You couldn’t move me an inch.” He grabs you by the waist and holds you tight to emphasize his point. You can’t even shift his arms off you, no matter how hard you push.

“Ok, fine, you win.” You pout at him, but he doesn’t let you go.

The dynamic the two of you share is so easygoing and relaxed, it’s like you had a rhythm all along that both of you just fell back into. But of course, there are some things you’ve never done together. Like travel together.

Or kiss.

“Are you going to do it this time?” you ask him, smiling.

His nose wrinkles up, uncharacteristically cute for someone like him. “Well, I was going to, but then you had to open your mouth.”

You cackle. “Go on then.”

“Can I?”

“I just said yes!”

“I forgot how much you like to talk,” he complains. Before you can say another word, he captures your lips in his.

The sky is vivid and blue as the whole world stretches out before you.

#RIPBOZO

Here we are! We're at the end of this little story I started writing on a whim. Honestly, this means a lot to me personally: I wrote a lot when I was younger, but high school and university were very difficult times for me, and I stopped writing fanfiction. I tried to get back into it during the pandemic, but I was never able to finish anything beyond a long-ish drabble. I'm quite proud of this.

Even still, I feel like there are a lot of stories that I still want to tell about this couple. There's quite a lot that I decided to cut from these main 3 chapters for the sake of pacing and time. There's a little bit of dissatisfaction at not having crammed in every little detail that I wanted, but if there's one thing that writing university papers has taught me, it's that perfectionism will keep you from getting anything done. So you will be getting more from Alex and Thorn in the future!

I know a lot of you were anticipating what delicious revenge König was going to exact on Thorn's husband, so I hope you weren't too disappointed ;; While I personally would have loved to have König strap him to a chair in the basement and do some morbid things with a knife, I think it was important for Thorn's character that she's involved in it. While of course the main focus of this story is König, Shrike is also about his beloved Thorn. I hope to explore König and the darker (and pervier) aspects of his character more in subsequent stories. But for now, they're getting a well-deserved happy ending.

One last thing before I go: Chamonix is a resort town in central/southeast France, not far from Lyon. (Sorry, I don't know whether Lyon is south enough to be considered southern France lol). Mont Blanc is Chamonix's main peak of the Alps, and is known for how pretty it is and being at the border of France, Switzerland, and Italy. As König said, if you wanted to visit a mountain as an Austrian, there are several of them at home you could visit, but since I visited it a few years ago, Chamonix has a special place in my heart. I just had to cram it in!

As usual, I'm excited to see your comments and feedback. I've read every single thing everybody has commented about this fic, even if I couldn't respond to you all, and I appreciate it so deeply. Whenever I get feedback I literally feel like kicking my feet and giggling. And if you want to ask questions or request specific scenarios with Thorn and Alex, please do send me an ask!

@crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @kneelingshadowsalome @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @fireballoveraltanta

psst. to my tag list people while I have you here: naturally I will continue tagging you in other Shrike stories, but I'll also be using this same tag list for every other König fic I write. If you'd like to opt out of that, let me know. (No hard feelings, of course :3)

#könig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig x reader #fic:shrike

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Text

Heartstopper

AN | What can I say? I’m a sucker for him. So here we are…we have some best friends to lovers goodness here! Enjoy🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are we doing Friday night?”

“I have a date on Friday.”

The two of you spoke at the same time, and you stared wide eyed at him while he chuckled nervously, drumming his fingers against the countertop. You rocked back and forth on your heels before taking a step back and creating a pointed distance between each other.

“But we…we always hang out on Friday nights,” the mixture of annoyance and sadness made you sound so whiny. Fucking pathetic. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly as he seemed to look anywhere but your face, “I just…assumed. We’d said we’d go see that new movie.”

“Well, I mean, we - all of us were going to go,” he shrugged, his nonchalant tone making this even worse, “you’ll still have Robin, Nancy, Munson, the kids.”

“Yeah,” your breath caught in your throat as you just tried to play it off. There was no reason that he needed to know about the odd mixture of feelings settling low in your stomach, “of course.”

“You understand, right?” his eyes finally met yours, as the two of you looked at each other for a few long moments. His gaze was piercing and you felt like he could see right through you, “it’s just that Allie asked me and I figured…why not, ya know? No reason not to.”

“Allie,” you repeated the name as your stomach churned and you felt like you could throw up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Allie; she’d always been nice, kind, funny, pretty, all of it. She was a perfect little package. That was the worst part - you couldn’t even dislike her. Or blame him for saying yes. But the feeling it brought up was…strange, “wow. Yeah, no, totally. I-I’m sure that’ll be great.”

“You don’t like her?” he raised an eyebrow as you fervently shook your head, feeling your face flush with warmth, “what’s up with you-”

“I like Allie! She’s…great,” you insisted, your voice pitching up several octaves and making you sound like you were seconds away from crying. You were, “she’s, ugh, great.”

“Are you…okay?” he asked and you just nodded, giving him a tight lipped smile that felt as fake as it probably looked. He was going to see right through you. He was going to know…fuck. You were jealous. Plain and simple. You were jealous of Allie getting to go on a date with Steve, potentially kissing him, potentially fu- no. You were definitely not going to picture that, “babe-”

“You know, I’m late,” you lied as you pointed to your watch before stumbling your way to the door, “I’ve got umm…that thing. I’ll see you around Stevie.”

You ran out the door and over to your car without casting another look back towards Family Video. You were breathless, your chest in pain from a combination of the wild beating of your heart and that stupid, dumb feeling of heartache.

What had you expected? You’d never made a move, neither asked once asked him on a date date, never let him know you truly left. You couldn’t blame him for being in the dark about your feelings. Steve was allowed to go on dates, he was a free man. Hell, you’d already had feelings for him when he was dating Nancy and you hadn’t felt like this. Nancy was your friend, and while you had been jealous, you were happy, even if it meant your own heart breaking. If Steve was happy and Nancy was happy, that was all that mattered. But you’d been secretly overjoyed when they’d broken up. And yet still hadn’t made your move. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise that he was going on dates again.

“Fuck,” you groaned at yourself as you hit the steering wheel. The stinging pain spread throughout your hand immediately and only made everything worse. Warm tears had pearled up and run down your cheeks before you knew it, causing you to cry loudly, “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That was…something,” Robin stepped out of the back, a twizzler in her hanging from her mouth as she raised her eyebrows, “and by something I mean painful. That hurt me and I wasn’t even involved.”

“What are you talking about?” sure, it had been…something but Steve hadn’t quite put all the pieces together yet, “she must be feeling…off or something. She gets weird sometimes, I dunno.”

“Steve, you just broke her fucking heart,” she groaned as she shoved his shoulder, causing him to make a small sound of protest. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to find the right words, “did you not…get that?”

“It’s just one Friday night,” he shrugged it off and turned to organize some of the rental returns. She grabbed his arm and shook her head. She really liked Steve, but damn, he was stupid sometimes, “there’ll be plenty of others…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She was incredulous at how he didn’t realize that you were in love with him and the fact that he didn’t understand that he was in love with you too. She muttered something under breath that sounded a lot like complete idiots before throwing the last of her twizzler away, “Steve. She was jealous. Of your date. With Allie.”

“Oh,” he said as he nodded but then what she had said hit him all at once, “oh? Why would she be jealous? She’s my best friend.”

“You really don’t get it, do you? How can you be so blind?” she was laughing, both at how annoyed she was by both of you and how utterly sorry she felt that you both were foolish, “Steve. She’s jealous because she’s your best friend. Because she doesn’t want to be just your best friend.”

“Robin, just say what you’re getting at,” he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further than it already had been. How was she even friends with a fool like this?

“She’s in love with you,” she reached over and patted his cheek just as the door opened again and a new customer strolled in, “you’re such an idiot sometimes, Harrington.”

Robin left his side to greet the customer as he stood there, dumbfounded at her words. No. No. She had to be wrong. There was no way that you loved him. You loving Steve Harrington? The idea was almost laughable. You were the pretty, funny, smart girl and he was…your dumb but handsome other half. Oh. Oh. His other half. He’d always considered his other, and better half. You were the first thought on his mind in the morning, often at night, and so many other times of the day. You were the first person he turned to whether it was for something good or bad. Holy shit. You’d always been.

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks as he paced around behind the counter. All those thoughts and feelings and everything…it had always been love. For you. Because he was in love with you. He thought back and realized he’d never once had the same intensity of feelings for Nancy. Even when he thought he was crushing on Robin, she hadn’t come close. Granted, he did love both of them, but he’d never loved someone like he loved you. Fuck. Steve Harrington was in love with you.

And Robin had said you were in love with him.

“No way,” he smacked himself on the forehead when he’d realized just how blind he was. To his own fucking feelings. And to yours. Maybe. If Robin turned out to be right. Which she sometimes was. But you…how could you love him? You were you and he was just…Steve, “fuck me.”

“Finally put it all together?” she called from across the store as he just waved her off, “took you long enough!”

If Robin was right, then he’d was sure he’d just royally screwed things up. He had to figure out how to fix it, if he could fix it…if you even wanted him to fix it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Eds,” you grinned as soon as you saw his mop of messy curls. You were waiting outside for the boys to finish their Hellfire session, sitting on the hood of your car as they ran out in excitement. You walked over and gave him a hug which he effortlessly reciprocated. You’d always liked him, falling into an easy friendship with him over the years. He was, surprisingly, one of the most reliable and present people in your life. Just like Steve. Fuck. Steve. You’d almost forgotten about him.

“Hey,” you liked his smile, it was all dimples and teeth and softness. It was a nice smile. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If anything, he was much more your type than Steve was, “what’s up? You’re looking at me all funny.”

“Do you wanna go out with me?” you asked softly as his eyebrows raised up in surprise.

“We hang out all the time…”

“Like a date,” you blurted out before shrugging your shoulders and looking away in embarrassment, “like a date with me and you. A, umm…date date?”

“Oh…kay,” he was grinning now, watching you in amusement. Eddie, despite what people often seemed to think, was a smart man. Plus, he also wasn’t blind. He knew you were Steve’s in all but name and that you had him wrapped around your finger as well. He did find you attractive and everything and sure, he knew if you hadn’t been so gone for Harrington, he might have asked you out too, “why are you asking me on a date?”

“I dunno,” you flailed your hands lightly, “just a thought. God, I made this awkward didn’t I? I seem to be doing that a lot lately. Sorry, Eds.”

“You’re fine,” he had a smug little grin on his face. He reached up and put a finger gently under your chin before turning your face up to his, “listen. I totally want to say yes, but I, being a man of superior morals, can’t say yes.”

“Eddie-”

“You’re attractive, you’re smart, you’re nice. Probably too good for any of us,” he insisted softly, “but I know you don’t like me like that.”

“You’re hot-”

“I know,” he grinned cheekily, “you’ve told me that many times after a few drinks when you weren’t trying to make out with me. But you know…there’s the whole…Harrington thing.”

“There’s no…there’s nothing with him,” you sighed as you grabbed his wrist, trying not to cry, “I’m just his friend.”

“For now.”

“For always,” you took his hand and held it tightly in yours, “he’s going out with Allie on Friday. And knowing how perfect and wonderful she is - I want to hate her but I can’t - Steve will fall for her in seconds. Or someone else. Just not…me.”

“You’re so blind,” he laughed, his shoulders shaking as he tried to calm himself down. When you looked at him in confusion, clearly not following what he was getting at, he stopped, “wait. You really don’t…you don’t know Harrington’s in love with you?”

“I - what?” you looked at him with such wide, worried eyes that he immediately grew serious, “Steve’s not in love with me, Eds. Don’t joke about it when you know how I feel about him.”

“You think - you think I’m joking,” he scrubbed a tired, ringed hand over his face as he shook his, “everyone knows, but you apparently.”

“Eddie.”

“Listen,” he held up his hands to signal his innocence, “I’m just telling the truth. I would never lie to you. I-”

“Can we hurry this up?” Dustin shouted from the car as you both flipped him the bird, “there’s pizza at home!”

“You wanna grab dinner on Friday? We can ditch the kids after the movie and then talk,” he suggested as you nodded slightly. One of the kids honked the horn as you sighed heavily, “you better go before they lose it. See you Friday.”

“See you Friday,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning around to the car, yelling at the trio in the backseat as you climbed into the driver’s seat.

Eddie waited there until you drove off, waving at the younger boys. He shook his head in amusement, laughing to himself, “oblivious idiots.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Even though your hot date consisted of a bunch of young teenagers, along with a too cozy couple in Jonathan and Nancy, and the chaotic duo of Robin and Eddie, you’d decided to dress up. You’d been feeling off all week, well aware of the reason why, but couldn’t shake yourself out of it. Sure, you could theoretically just have called Steve, gone to his house, or work to talk. But you found yourself doing the exact opposite. You’d ignored his calls, and whenever he stopped by your house, you pretended you weren’t home. At one point he’d climbed up to your window and tapped on it, but it was late enough to pretend you were asleep. So you did just that, thankful that you’d had the forethought to lock it for once.

Was it pretty and childish? Absolutely. But you weren’t ready to face him and have your heart broken. Because you were positive that as soon as you told him ‘hey, dumbass, I’m absolutely and irrevocably in love with you,’ he would laugh in your face and think you were joking. Your heart couldn’t handle that. Instead you broke your own heart by simply ignoring him.

So by dressing up, you figured that might lift your mood slightly. It did, and combined with spending time with your friends, you did feel a little better. Plus, the movie wasn’t as terrible as you’d thought it would be. All in all…okay.

Once you were all out of the theater, you nudged Eddie’s arm as you said your goodbyes to the rest of the group. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders without a second thought and started leading in the direction of the diner that you both loved. It was shitty, run down, and completely sketchy, but they had the best pancakes and milkshakes in Hawkins so it was worth the risk.

You were halfway there when you heard the shout of your name from across the street. You thought you’d imagined it until you heard Eddie’s name too. You stiffened as you both stopped and turned to look for the source of the voice. You already knew who it was long before you even saw him.

There stood Steve Harrington, hand in hand with Allie Miller, watching you with a scowl on his face. You heard Eddie giggle likely as you pinched his side and cast a small wave at Steve to placate him.

“Move,” you hissed at Eddie, nudging his hip with yours in a desperate attempt to get away from Steve. He took his sweet time, and of course, Steve and Allie had made it over to you within moments. Fuck. You were going to kill Munson for that later.

“Hey,” Steve’s eyes flicked between the two of you as you politely said hi to Allie, “what’s ugh…what’s going on here? Thought it was movie night?”

“The movie finished,” you shrugged and willed the ground to open and swallow you whole. You did not want to do this right now. Or ever. But life had a strange way of forcing its will upon you, “just grabbing dinner.”

“Just…the two of you?”

“Umm…yeah?” your whole was warm and you felt bad for Steve’s poor date. She had no clue what was going on, unlike the rest of you, “is there a problem, Steve? You’re the one that didn’t come out with all of us.”

“Are you on a date? Is that what this is? The two of you are going on a date together?”

“No-”

“Yes,” you insisted over Eddie’s soft no and you heard him sigh lightly. You knew he was trying to get you to tell Steve how you really felt. But you weren’t ready. You just…couldn’t, “yeah, we’re on a date so we’re just, umm…gonna go. Enjoy your evening.”

“Wait - you can’t just…”

“Is there a problem, Harrington?” Fuck, Eddie was mentally begging for the two of you just to get it over with. You were so close but both so damn stubborn. It was a quality that he loved in both of you normally, except right now.

“I…no,” he tried to keep his expression nonchalant, “not at all. The two of you want to date, that’s fine. Who am I to stop you?”

“Right, so we’re going now,” you tugged on Eddie’s hand and hurriedly pulled him away before anyone could say anything else. You sighed heavily as Eddie tutted at you, “don’t say a word, Munson.”

“It was the perfect opportunity,” he insisted, “he was practically staring me to death. He reeked of jealousy!”

“No,” you felt tears of both confusion and frustration well up in your eyes, “Eddie, can you please just drop it? Let’s just get dinner and forget this ever happened.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he swallowed thickly and he suddenly felt horrible. All he wanted was his friends to get over whatever little game they had going and to finally confess their feelings. Fuck, he wasn’t into overly sentimental stuff, but even he was rooting for it to happen, “whatever you want, princess.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Robin? Are you ready to go?” you walked into Family Video without a second thought as you’d promised to pick her up after work so the two of you could get snacks and have a movie marathon. It was a cold, rainy day and nothing sounded better than getting under a pile of blankets and eating to your heart’s delight. When you didn’t hear anything, you rapped your fingers across the counter, “Robin?”

You heard someone coming from the back but to your shock it wasn’t Robin.

It was Steve.

You panicked immediately, your heart racing as you contemplated just running out. He wasn’t supposed to be here, Robin had said he wouldn’t be. He was supposed to have the day off. But there he was…right in front of you with an unreadable expression etched onto his handsome features.

“Hi,” he said softly as he held up his hand in a small wave. You hated this, this awkward and foreign feeling hanging between the two of you, “Robin’s not here. She was off earlier.”

What the actual fuck. No way. There was no way…she’d planned this. She’d totally schemed to get this happen. You had no doubt Eddie had been right there with her.

“O-oh,” you looked at the floor, “she, umm, she told me she was off now. We were supposed to have a movie marathon, but ugh…I’ll go.”

“How’s Munson?” you looked up and met his eyes and found out that he’d almost closed the distance between you, leaving just enough space to be appropriate. Was he…could Eddie have been right? Was he jealous?

“Eddie’s good,” you nodded, “umm, we’re all hanging out again on Friday. Game night at Nancy and Mike’s. I dunno if you were planning on coming by or whatever now that you’ve got…what’s her name.”

“Allie,” he replied, although you were both well aware that you knew her name.

“Right,” you cleared your throat before moving towards the door, “I, umm…see you around. Maybe.”

You were out of the door and in the middle of the rain before he could say another word. The universe was definitely conspiring against you as the downpour increased on your trek across the parking lot. You’d go home and change and then kill Robin and Eddie. You hoped the two of them had enough sense to at least pretend to be sorry for this mess.

“Wait!” you heard Steve’s voice before you turned around and found him running towards you, “it’s raining too hard! You shouldn’t be driving right now.”

“I’ll be fine!” the two of you almost had to shout at each other over the sound of the pouring rain. Both of you were already drenched at this point, “go back inside, Stevie! You’re already soaking wet.”

“I’m not going out again with Allie!” When did he get so close? He was standing in front of you, only a small gap between your bodies as you found your heart beating rapidly, “are you going out again with Munson?”

“Steve,” he reached up and brushed a few wet, stray locks of hair gently out of your face. His fingertips ghosted against your jaw, “I wasn’t on a date with Eddie. I’m not dating him. We’re just friends.”

“Then why did you say you were on a date?” his face fell slightly as you just shook your head, already feeling the tears stinging at the back of your eyes.

“Why aren’t you seeing Allie again?”

“You know why!” a crack of thunder roared in the distance as you almost jumped into his arms, “you’ve always known why!”

“Stevie-”

“You’re the only person that’s ever been allowed to call me that,” he insisted, the corners of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly, “I hate when anyone else calls me that. I’ve always hated that nickname.”

“Why do you let me do it?”

“You know why,” he repeated as he leaned in closer and you found yourself doing the same. Even in the pouring rain you could smell his delicious cologne clinging to him, mixing in with the sweet scent of skin. It was intoxicating and all consuming, just like everything about Steve Harrington.

“Tell me,” you insisted softly, “please, I need to hear you say it. Why aren’t you seeing her again?”

“Because she’s not you,” his hands found the sides of your face as he gently cradled it in his large, warm hands, “why aren’t you dating Munson?”

“Because he’s not you,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrists and let out a shaky breath. When you allowed yourself to meet his eyes, you found him watching you with the same soft, dopey expression he always had for you. Oh. It was because…oh. He never looked at anyone else like that because -

“I’m in love with you,” his words rang out loud and clear against the pounding of the rain and crackles of thunder in the distance. Your mouth opened lightly in surprise and shock at actually hearing him say those words. You’d pictured this moment at least a thousand times in your head, but none of these scenarios were ever like this, “I-I feel like an idiot because I just realized that. I’ve always known, you but it never fully clicked until-”

“Robin and Eddie,” you finished for him as he nodded in agreement, “I don’t know whether I’m happy or mad at them right now!”

“Can I kiss you?” you knew the moment was coming but his softly spoken question still managed to make your heart beat wildly as you just looked at him with big doe eyes. You leaned in and closed the little bit of remaining distance, crashing your lips onto his. Steve was taken aback for just a moment, but quickly realized what was going on and kissed you back, pouring every single unspoken word into the kiss, trying to get you to understand just how he felt.

You both pulled back when you were breathless, grinning at each other like fools. He pressed his forehead against yours as a wistful little sigh escaped from your lips. Holy shit. You’d just kissed Steve Harrington. Your best friend, your biggest supporter, your…everything. He’d kissed you back. He wanted to kiss you. He was in love with you.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top this moment,” he laughed, that easy sound reaching your ears. It had been too long since you’d heard that sound.

“What? You mean running after me and kissing me in the rain?” you teased as he touched your face and gently brushed his thumb over your cheek, “that’s pretty romantic, Harrington. You could always try though!”

“For you?” he leaned and pecked your lips a few more times, trying to memorize the touch and taste of your lips, “I’ll always try.”

A few flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, quickly followed by rumbling thunder, causing you to cling tightly onto him.

“Let’s get inside!” he insisted as laced his fingers through yours. You marveled at how perfectly your hands fit together, “you’re gonna get wet.”

“I think it’s a little late for that Stevie,” you grinned, “hey.”

“What?”

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” his face practically lit up at your words and that alone made everything worth it, “even if you are an idiot sometimes. You’re my idiot!”

“I love you,” he promised, “you’re my girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader #st

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lordofluxury · 3 months

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atzi and his quirk is super cool! it's so interesting how much thought you've put into his story.👀 it's clear he's very close with tokoyami but what about his relationship with the other 1A students? like, who was one of the first people he grew close to?🤔

no pressure if you don't feel like answering this, I am just v curious🤡

Honestly at first he was so startled by all of class one a because they’re so loud and he’s such a quiet person that he really doesn’t know what to do with them. He becomes close with mina first because she understands what it’’s like to feel like one doesn’t belong where they currently are. I headcanon that mina is mixed black american and japanese, growing up in america until middle school when the anti mutant violence got so bad that her mothers moved her back to japan for her own safety.

Atzi who’s been in that same place can understand her in a way most other people can’t and they become really close because of this.

Another person that atzi becomes close with is todoroki because Atzi and him take a lot of delight in discovering different areas of japan together. Atzi introduces him to different fashion styles and they just. become really close

#signing off #decadence loves #proship selfship #you’ll never be free of me (dark lovers)

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lunarbuck · 1 year

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Baby, It's Cold Outside (Stuckyxf!reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.3k

Summary: You’ve been friends with Steve and Bucky for quite some time, but when you accept to spend the holidays with them in a cabin, friendship evolves into something more.

Warnings: friends to lovers <3, stucky, fluff, smut (p in v, p in a?), anal, oral (m and f receiving), threesome - F/M/M, polyamory, pet names [doll, baby, princess], unprotected sex

A/N: not only is this my first time writing a Steve fic, it’s also my first time writing for a threesome… please let me know how I did/if this is something you’d like to see more of :) please also let me know if I did anything wrong!!! I want to learn <3 beta’d by the literal best, @lfnr-blog-blog-blog 💕

main masterlist | bucky one shot masterlist | my ao3

The holidays are always a tricky time of year. No one has a perfect family, and even if that problem-free family exists, you bet even they have some trouble around the holidays. You know from experience that the holiday season brings out the worst in people, so when Bucky and Steve offered to have a holiday celebration with just the three of you, you couldn’t pass it up.

You’d gone just a little overboard with their presents, but how could you not? The two of them treat you better than anyone else in your life, and you just want to show them you’re thankful.

So now, as you sit in the backseat of the car, watching the world fly by, you’re thankful that the world brought the three of you together.

You’d been working at the Tower for some time before you ever crossed paths with Captain America and his friend, the Winter Soldier. Honestly, working in legal, it was bound to happen. It was an instant connection, and you’ve been friends ever since. Inseparable, practically attached at the hip.

Steve drives carefully as he eases off the highway and onto a little side road, taking the three of you further away from civilization and closer to the cozy little cabin you’ll be staying in for the next few days.

It’s easy to lose yourself as you watch Steve drive. The way his strong hands grip the steering wheel, the way his blue eyes reflect the bright winter sky. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never thought of him that way. Who hasn’t? He’s America’s golden boy, the man of your dreams.

And Bucky… oh Bucky, your thoughts about him are simply unholy. The quiet, brooding partner to America’s sweetheart. As you’ve gotten to know Bucky, you’ve come to understand that there’s more to him than meets the eye, but you love the darkness that settles just below the surface.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Bucky turns and glances back at you from the passenger seat. “How you doin’ back there, doll?” He asks, a soft smile on his lips.

“Oh, I’m fine, Sarge,” you reply, smiling back. He gives you a wink before turning back in his seat.

You’re not sure how you’ll survive three days in a cabin with the two of them; there are so many variables… so many different ways this could send you up shit’s creek without a paddle.

You’re not going to lie; the past two days have been… tough, to say the least. There have been so many innocent touches and sweet smiles that you can’t tell what’s real and what’s your fantasy anymore.

Tonight is the official gift exchange. You’re excited for the boys to open your gifts; you tried so hard to find the perfect items. After changing into a pair of flannel PJ pants, you make your way out into the cabin’s main room.

You each have your own rooms, but each night you’ve been desperate to sneak into Steve or Bucky’s room and just see what happens. You haven’t had enough courage to do it, and part of you had hoped that one of them would do the sneaking.

You push the thoughts from your mind as the three of you gather in front of the roaring fireplace. There’s a sizable pile of gifts scattered around, more than you’d expect for a group of three, but you certainly don’t mind.

Steve and Bucky both wear similar attire to you, tight short-sleeved t-shirts, Steve in white and Bucky in black, as well as matching flannel pants.

The boys hand out the gifts, making three separate piles for each person. Butterflies flit in your belly as you run your eyes over their straining muscles. Their shirts are too small, and you can practically see everything. But you’re not complaining. No, not one bit.

“Okay, who’s starting?” Steve asks, sitting back on his heels.

“Youngest to oldest,” Bucky suggests, grinning. Steve rolls his eyes but nods, looking to you to pick your first gift.

Torn wrapping paper litters the floor, and Steve waves around the garbage bag again in an attempt to get you and Bucky to clean up after yourselves. The two of you just laugh and crumple up the paper into little balls, chucking them at Steve.

“You keep that up, and I’ll take away the rest of the presents,” Steve scolds, though his smile is big and bright, so you know he’s not upset.

There’s only one gift left for each of you, so once the little paper fight has ended and you all settle down, you begin to peel the paper off your gift.

Inside is a thin black box that you know for sure contains jewelry. Your heart thuds in your chest as you pop the box open. Inside is a simple silver necklace with a beautiful blue topaz stone shaped like a teardrop hanging from the chain. Even though Steve and Bucky have different shades of blue in their eyes, somehow, this stone perfectly encapsulates both.

Tears well in your eyes as Steve and Bucky both move to sit beside you. Bucky sweeps your hair to the side, freeing your neck for Steve to place the necklace.

“What’re you crying for?” Steve asks, brushing a stray tear away from your cheek. You sniffle a little and laugh, wiping your face.

“It’s just the perfect gift,” you reply, looking between Bucky and Steve. The way they look at you is heated, possessive, almost, but you shake your head a little and tell yourself you imagine it.

Bucky lets his fingers linger on your skin for just longer than he should before the two of them return to their seats on the floor.

Steve opens his gift next; it’s from you. He tears open the present like a little kid, grinning from ear to ear. Inside, he finds a new set of paints that were a bitch to find. He’d been talking about trying out a new style, and this one brand of paints would be perfect, so of course, you had to find him.

He gapes at the paints for a moment before wrapping you in a giant hug. “You’re the best,” he whispers into your shoulder before releasing you.

By the time you recover from the embrace, Bucky is already opening his last gift, also from you. It’s a first-edition print of The Hobbit. The way Bucky looks from you to the book speaks volumes, and you’re about to tear up again.

Tonight went so much better than you thought it would. You’re so happy to be here, with them, in this cabin, on a perfect winter night. The snow has been coming in pretty steadily, but you don’t care one bit.

The three of you clean up, casually talking about work and other things happening in your lives, and once the main room is tidied, you realize how late it is.

It’s almost midnight, and Steve never shuts up about his bedtime. Bucky gives him shit for it, teasing him for needing the beauty sleep, but a good sleep routine is necessary for your line of work, so you don’t mind.

But you don’t want tonight to end. Tomorrow, you’ll have to pack up and return to the real world.

Fuck that. Fuck the real world.

“You headin’ to bed?” Bucky asks Steve as the two of them toss the trash bags by the back door. Instead of responding, Steve just stares at you, lips slightly parted. You cock an eyebrow at him, confused.

“It’s way past your bedtime, old man,” you tease, hoping to clear the air of the odd tension that’s fallen over the three of you.

“Why don’t we watch a movie?” Steve suggests, leaning against the wall. “My room has the biggest TV.” Bucky smiles, and you nod along. A movie sounds nice.

Never mind, a movie is torture. Bucky and Steve lay on either side of you, and you’re practically frozen where you sit. If you move even an inch, you’ll be pressed up against a muscular chest. As much as you’d like to be pressed against one of them, you’re not sure how they’d feel about it. Sure, it was Steve’s idea to watch the movie in his room, but that doesn’t mean he was consenting to you being all over him.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers trace little patterns on your arms, sending shivers through you, but you try to pretend like you don’t notice. You’re worried that if you acknowledge it, he’ll stop.

The credits roll on the cheesy holiday movie Steve had picked, and you slowly push yourself upright. You huff a bit of a breath, and both men look at you curiously.

“Well, it’s late,” you say, shifting yourself down the bed to avoid crawling over Steve or Bucky. “I should probably head to bed.” You nearly run into the dresser, feeling around for your slippers.

“Awe, come on,” Bucky practically whines from the bed. “The night is still young.” Even though you can’t see him in the dark, you know he’s wiggling his eyebrows in a way that makes your heart squeeze.

“I– I really can’t stay,” you say, fumbling over the words as you make your way toward the door. There’s movement behind you, sheets rustling, then suddenly, a presence right behind you. If you took a big breath, you’d be pressed against him.

“But baby, it’s cold outside,” Bucky tells you, placing his hands on your hips. His warmth envelops you from behind, begging you to sink into his embrace. You shiver.

“Tonight was,” your voice falters as you search for the words. “Amazing, but really, I should head to my room.”

“Baby,” Steve whispers, suddenly stepping in front of you, blocking your access to the door. “It’s cold outside.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the way he’s looking at you. You could drown in it. The heat of his gaze sends fire sweeping through you; it settles in your belly and makes you ache.

Bucky gently tugs you back into his chest, pressing you against him. Steve closes the distance, and you’re surrounded by them.

“You’re like ice, princess,” Bucky mumbles into your ear, nudging your neck with his nose. “Let us warm you up.”

Steve’s hands cup your jaw on either side, tilting your head up. His bright blue eyes shine despite the lack of light. “Is this okay for you?” He asks sweetly, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

“Yes,” you breathe, a weight seeming to lift from your shoulders. Steve leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, sending electricity shooting down your spine. Steve kisses you like he’s tasting you, like you’re a porcelain doll he doesn’t want to damage.

Bucky litters kisses along your neck, sucking and nipping at all the sensitive spots. He’s leaving marks, but you don’t mind. Your right hand reaches out for Steve while your left feels back for Bucky. Both men react to your touch, pressing even closer to you.

“You know how long we’ve wanted this?” Bucky whispers into your ear. Steve keeps kissing you, swallowing the little moan you release. “The day we saw you, we knew.”

Steve releases you from the kiss and uses his grip on your head to turn you toward Bucky. His eyes are darker than Steves’s, not only in color but in intention. It makes your legs feel like jelly.

“I want you too,” you reply, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. Bucky grins and leans down, capturing you in a heated kiss. Steve’s hands drift down your neck, feeling the little marks Bucky left before reaching the neckline of your shirt.

You pull away from Bucky only long enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the dark room. Steve sucks in a breath at the sight of you in your bra, and you practically glow at his reaction.

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve mumbles, leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone, down your sternum, and between the valley of your breasts. He kneels in front of you as his fingers find the clasp of your bra at your back. He undoes it and carefully slides the garment off you, exposing you to his gaze.

“Stevie’s been craving you,” Bucky muses at your ear, hands sliding beneath your arms to grasp your tits. His vibranium fingers are cold in contrast to his flesh hand, and you moan at the feeling. “He’s so eager to please you.” His fingers tweak your nipples before heading south. His left hand finds Steve’s head, spearing his fingers through the blond’s hair. “Why don’t you tell our girl what you told me before this trip,” Bucky says to Steve. Your blood rushes in your ears. How is this real?

Steve gazes up at you with stars in his eyes. “I want to taste you,” the man practically moans. “I need it.” Bucky makes a sound, and Steve’s eyes shift to him. That must not’ve been the answer Bucky was looking for.

“Come on, Stevie, tell her exactly what you said.” You reach out and run your fingers along Steve’s jaw, silently telling him that you won’t judge him.

“I need you like I need to breathe, I need to feel you, need to taste you. I want to taste you on Bucky’s cock. I want to taste myself in your pussy.” You were already wet before, but now you’re soaked. The needy tone of Steve’s voice, the possessive grip Bucky has on both of you, it’s almost too much. It’s not quite enough.

Steve brings his lips to your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your nipples while his fingers play with the other. You lean back into Bucky’s muscular body, and he holds you upright, letting his hands roam your body.

You’ve never been with two men, but the thought had undoubtedly crossed your mind when fantasizing about these two.

“You gonna let him taste you?” Bucky asks, teasing the waistband of your pants, slowly dipping his fingers beneath the elastic. “You gonna give Stevie what he needs?”

All you can do is nod and let Bucky and Steve tug your pants down. They help you step out of the pooling fabric before Steve is pressing his lips against your panties, breathing you in.

His fingers grip your hips and ass, digging into your flesh and muscles. He eats you out over your panties, driving you wild with the need to feel him directly.

“Please, please,” you beg, arching your back to get your point across. Bucky chuckles and reaches down to help Steve pull your panties off. You catch the way Steve balls them up and tucks them into Bucky’s pocket, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Steve dives back in without another word, lapping up your arousal eagerly. He works your clit in perfect circles bringing you right to the edge. You’re so worked up that when Bucky bites your shoulder, it sends you spiraling. Your legs buckle beneath you, but they’re both there to catch you as you come down from the high.

“That was perfect, princess,” Bucky praises, kissing you sweetly. You smile into the kiss, feeling him lift you up and place you on the bed.

“Your turn,” you say, reaching out for both men. Bucky groans at your suggestion, palming his erection. He directs Steve to sit on the bed and gets everyone into position. You love how he commands the room; he’s in his element.

You slip off the bed and kneel between Steve’s legs while Bucky kneels on the bed, hips at Steve’s head. What you’d give to be a fly on the wall watching this…

The men both remove their pants and boxers, and you shamelessly ogle them. They’re both built like gods, sculpted from marble and fucking magic. Their cocks are just like the rest of them, and it dawns on you that you have no idea how they’ll fit.

Even so, you reach out and wrap your fingers around Steve’s hard length, bringing his attention down to you. As you begin to circle your tongue around his tip, he tangles his fingers in your hair. He doesn’t push you, just moves with you. Bucky then guides his own cock to Steve’s mouth, and you notice that the more eagerly you please Steve, the harder he works Bucky.

You grin at the power you hold over both of them and work your mouth down Steve’s cock. You take him into your throat until you’re sputtering, and Steve moans around Bucky.

The way Bucky guides Steve’s head has you moaning as you try to replicate the movement. Steve strains around Bucky’s cock but takes him so well. Bucky praises both of you, grunting about how good the two of you are, how perfect you are.

A moment later, Steve pulls you off his dick and tugs you onto the bed. Bucky is repositioning himself as well, and butterflies flit in your tummy.

“We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” Steve tells you, running his fingers down your back. “I don’t wanna push you or anything.” Bucky nods in agreement, vibranium hand cupping the back of your neck.

“This is all pretty new to you; we won’t be upset if you want to take things slower,” he adds.

“What if I don’t wanna go slow,” you reply, sucking in a heaving breath. You want them so bad you’re practically vibrating with need. “What if I need to feel you?”

Steve whimpers at your side, and Bucky moans.

“Fuck, princess, that’s music to my fuckin’ ears.” Bucky kisses you, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers over you, caging you in. His right hand reaches between your legs and runs along your sensitive flesh. Steve does the same from the other side, two hands working you in tandem.

Their fingers open you up, stretching you in a way you’ve never experienced before. They work without needing to speak, a singular goal in mind.

“You’re doing so good,” Steve praises, running his free hand along Bucky’s back. “So good for us.”

Once Steve and Bucky are satisfied with their handiwork, Steve guides Bucky’s cock to your entrance. “You ready, baby?” Bucky asks, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please fuck me, Bucky,” you plead as he presses into you. Even though they prepped you, Bucky is still big, and you’ve never taken anything quite so large before. It feels so good as he thrusts deep and hard inside of you.

Your eyes roll back into your head while your hand seeks out Steve, needing the connection. Finding his cock, you wrap your fingers around him and pump at the same speed as Bucky. Steve hisses in a breath at the feeling and bucks into your hand.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, princess,” Bucky moans into your ear, hiking one of your legs onto his shoulder. “So tight for me.” Your mouth falls open, your lips forming an ‘O’ as the band in your belly tightens.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, getting closer and closer to snapping.

“That’s right, baby,” Bucky urges. “Come all over my cock. That’s it; you’ve got it.” You burst at the sound of his words, coating his cock with your orgasm. He keeps fucking you, making you ride the wave for what feels like an eternity.

He pulls out once you’ve caught your breath and tugs Steve down. Steve eagerly takes Bucky into his mouth and moans at the taste. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of Steve sucking the cock that had just been buried inside you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“You like what you see, princess?” Bucky asks, one of his fingers drifting to your clit, circling it slowly. “He can’t get enough.”

Bucky guides Steve off his dick, and the two men turn to face you.

“I want both of you,” you whisper, barely able to muster up the courage to admit it. Bucky cocks a brow at you before turning to Steve.

“You hear that, Stevie?” Steve nods, seemingly in a trance. “She wants both of us.” You watch in amazement as Bucky positions the three of you in the way he wants, quickly figuring out where everyone needs to be to make your fantasy come to life.

Bucky then steps away, digs through the bedside table, finds what he needs, then returns. “Okay, Stevie, lay back and let our princess ride you.” Steve does what Bucky asks and helps you straddle his strong hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars.

From behind you, you feel Bucky’s fingers, slick from what must be lube, slide against your ass. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access.

“You feel so perfect squeezin’ me,” Steve moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your tits.

“Isn’t she tight, Stevie?” Bucky asks, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Steve just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Bucky slowly moves his finger.

One finger becomes two, and you ride Steve a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his dick, working the pleasure from you.

Bucky adds a third finger, and you feel like you’re going to explode, but a good explosion. You’ve never felt so full, and you can’t imagine how amazing it’ll feel when it’s his cock and not just his fingers.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you beg, leaning back against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, princess?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace.

“Fuck yes, Bucky, I need you so bad.” Bucky pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. For us. Be a good girl and let me in.” Bucky keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Steve helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him.

Only a thin wall separates Bucky and Steve’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands. Bucky and Steve worship you; they chant your name like a prayer.

All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their supersoldier serum, they last so much longer than other men. They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Bucky leans over your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“Give her your cum, Stevie; she wants it so bad. Right, princess?” Bucky’s vibranium fingers wrap around your neck, and you come again just from that.

“Oh my god, Steve, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan, gripping Bucky’s arm.

Steve comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Bucky over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating. Bucky kisses you deeply before shifting to give Steve the same treatment. Steve carefully slides off the bed and grabs a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean up with.

He takes care of you sweetly, ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin. You clean him up, and together you care for Bucky.

Once you dispose of the washcloth, Bucky and Steve tug you down into bed between them. Your limbs tangle with theirs, and you melt into their embrace.

“You were so perfect, baby,” Bucky whispers against your head, thumb rubbing circles into your arm. “You are so perfect.” Your heart tugs in your chest.

“I hope you know,” Steve interjects, clearing his throat. “We both have feelings for you, more than just for the physical stuff. If you feel the same way, we wanna make this work out in the real world. The three of us.” Your breath catches, and you feel like you’re dreaming. No way is he saying this.

“Really?” you ask, turning to see Bucky’s reaction.

“Really, princess. You’ve been ours since the day we saw you. We’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. We’ll take it slow, it’s not gonna be as easy as a ‘traditional’ relationship, but we’ll make it work. We want it to work for you.” Tears brim in your eyes and Steve kisses your cheek.

“Yes, yes, of course, I want this,” you reply, holding their hands. “Who gives a shit about easy? Nothing is ever easy. As long as we’re in it together, that’s all I care about.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he kisses you. When he breaks the kiss, he turns you to Steve, who presses his lips to you sweetly. It all feels so natural, so easy.

Even though the winter wind whips at the windows, you’re comfy and warm in the embrace of your two supersoldiers. Nothing could be better than this right here.

please message me to be added to a taglist! must be 18+

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strikethrough means i couldn't tag you for some reason :/

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ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

Helllo! How are you? Hope your day is going well

Could i pls get ♦️ idia for the Nightfall! Au? Feel free to decline thou!

My day’s going alright! How about you, anon?

Home call

Nightfall Idia Shroud x reader

Deliveries were not part of your job description. You were a barista, for god’s sake. You make the drinks, not deliver them.

Yet here you were, walking through the cities’s streets. The plastic bit into your hand, the handles leaving lines of scarlet red snaking through your palm. With every step you took, you could feel the coffee swirl in their cups, restless as ever.

Glancing from the left to the right, you suppress a shudder. The darkness cloaked the buildings, shrouding in it shadow. Alleys seem to be endless, devoured entirely by an deep ebony black. The only light was from the headlights of cars rushing by, little pinpricks of red and white.

Slipping your phone out, you stare at the map. Knitting your brows together, you pinch at the device, trying to maximise the screen. Leave it to Idia to stay in the most out of the way places. Great for staying hidden, horrible for deliveries.

Being honest, you’ll normally never make a home call like this. You’ve served enough of your patrons to understand the dangers of their profession. You value your own life very much, thank you.

Yet when Ortho came over, eyes brimming with tears, you just couldn’t say no. So here you were, fingers running over dusty block numbers, black grime sticking to your fingertips like soot.

Resting on a silver “two”, you pull out your phone again. Yup, this was the correct address. You brush your hands against your pants, wincing as the black smudges on the fabric. How clingy.

You stand akimbo in front of the gate, phone pressed against your ear. One cycle of the dial tone, before a soft voice speaks:

“You’re here.”

Not a question, a statement. Your eyes flicker around warily, searching for the tell-tale gleam of a security camera. You saw none, but you couldn’t shake off that chill crawling up your spine.

“Yeah. Are you going to let me in?”

With a squeak, the gates swing upon of their own accord. A path lights up, ghostly spots of blue guiding you towards the door. The lights flicker, as if beckoning you closer. You take a hesitant step forward, half-expecting something to blow up.

Nothing happened, much to your relief. Adopting a brisk pace, you march up towards the door. It swings open, revealing Idia Shroud. He stands there awkwardly, before slowly reaching towards you.

You raise your arm, expecting him to take his order. To your surprise, he completely ignores the coffees. Throwing his arms around you, he clutches you tightly, fingers digging into your flesh. Burying his head in your shoulder, you can feel his lips moving, mumbling your name over and over. A mantra of sorts, a devotee’s prayer.

With the fervent way he clung onto you, the audible sobs spilling from his lips, it’s not hard to see him as one. Your hands find his shoulders. With a heave, you shove him off, slowly backing away. Raising an arm defensively, shoulders tensed.

Idia’s hands stretch towards you, before deciding better of it. Arms falling to his sides, his eyes meets yours. A pleading gaze, staring straight into your soul.

“Please… I just had to… see you. Could you at least just understand that?”

Fingers, as cold as ice. They slip into yours, intertwining. An affectionate gesture, one reserved for lovers. Normally, such an act would inspire warmth, a fluttery heartbeat.

All you could feel was dread.

Your heart slamming against its cage of bone, every beat screaming in deep within your ears. Drowning out everything but the panic rising in your chest, claws sinking deep into your soul.

“I would have come to the Lantern. Yet the thought of all the other people there…”

Idia’s grip tightens, jagged nails digging into your fresh, scarlet red crescents dotting the back of your palm. You wince as they burn, a thousand stings.

“I can’t stand it. All those eyes on you…. You never know what’s going on in their heads.”

A smooth mechanical whirl. Whipping around, your view of the street was cut off by the gates swinging shut, a click of a lock echoing through the air. Eyes flickering from him and the gate, the acidic taste of bile lapping at the very end of your throat.

“You can see why I had to do this, right? To protect you. It’s all for you.”

Slapping his arm, you pry yourself free.

“I don’t need your protection, Shroud. Now, open these doors, you no-good, dirty lying coward…”

Your voice trails off as you catch a glimpse of metal. Goosebumps run up your arm as something hard and cold pressed against your gut. The barrel of a gun, held rather carelessly by Idia. His pointer finger plays on the trigger, wiggling over that horrible part.

One click, it’s all over.

A sick grin spreads across his face, razor sharp teeth glinting menacingly at you. His eyes are still wide, yet there was a certain mockery deep within. The smug face of someone who knows all too well that he has the upper hand.

“I’ll think twice about rejecting my offer, sweetheart.

After all, I’m the boss here.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Idia shroud #Idia shroud x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #idia #yandere Idia shroud #yandere Idia shroud x reader #Idia x reader #yandere Idia x reader #yandere idia #nightfall au #protection potion♦️

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banananutsmuthie · 1 year

Text

The Beginner's Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes

Idol(s): Wendy [Red Velvet]

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

A/N: A quick writing experiment for an idea I had. This will be different from what you're used to but I hope you'll give it a chance. Wanted to use Wendy abs pic from the GOT the Beat "Stamp on It" performance but there were no great stills.

“Close the door.”

This is how it starts. Notice Wendy’s choice of words here. She’s left the door open to interpretation. Now, you have two choices: you can either lock the door—which is probably what Wendy meant when she said to “close” it—or, you can take her words at face value and merely close the door like she asked.

Leave the door unlocked.

Give any passersby the opportunity to walk in on whatever lewd things Wendy wants to do in the 10 minutes she has before she has to perform. Perhaps this way, she’ll learn to choose her words carefully next time.

After you close the door, Wendy will smile. “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

She’ll be sitting on the couch. Walk toward her, but not too fast! You don’t want to seem too eager. This version of Wendy only works when she’s the needy one. Give her any reason to think you’re the one that needs her and you’ll never hear from her again.

There are rules, you see, prerequisites established by Wendy for this thing between you and her to work out. First, she lets you call her whatever you want. Call her Wendy, call her your cumbucket, call her a slut (she particularly likes that one), but under no circumstance shall you claim her as yours. She is not your baby, your lover, your jagi. You are not her boyfriend. This is just sex. Because when you get caught (and you will), the first newspaper to break the story will claim Wendy is “dating”. Wendy will only speak the truth—she will say she is not dating to free herself from the backlash she will inevitably receive and place the blame on the newspaper for reporting fake news. For her, it’s all the fun without the consequences.

The second rule—the fun rule—is “never the same place twice”. This is just sex for her, and because it’s just sex, she will want to do it everywhere and anywhere. Seulgi’s room, the recording studio, in some dark alley, it doesn’t matter: when she texts you the time and place, she expects you to drop everything for her, no questions asked. Wendy enjoys the thrill. She wants to get caught. This is why you leave the door unlocked in the first place.

Now that you’re refreshed on the rules, you’re ready to begin.

Get right up to her where she’s sitting on the couch. Gently part her legs if you have to. Slap her hand away when she greedily tries to unzip your pants. She will play along when you tell her, “You had all day to text me, and you only decide right before you have to perform to call me here? Not a lot of time to do anything, Wendy. This is going to cost you.”

“Name your price,” Wendy will say.

There are rules to negotiation, just like there are rules for sex with Wendy. Ask for something absurd, something she’ll never agree to. Set the bar high so that what you get is closer to what you wanted to begin with. “Threesome later this week. You and one of your members. I don’t care which one.”

Wendy will scoff and present a counter offer: “Eat me out now and I’ll let you cum in me before our next performance and let that load soak through my safety shorts on stage.”

As tempting as that sounds, there will be no immediate satisfaction for you should you accept. Make one last offer.

“Blowjob with a blast to your face. Right now. Maybe I’ll play with your tits if you’re good. Final offer. I’m a very busy man, y’know. I’ve got better things to do.” Make it sting. There probably won’t be many things above “sex with Wendy” on your list, but you need to make Wendy believe she’s not that important—this is key.

She will complain about her makeup, how there won’t be time to redo it after you’ve ruined it, or her hair, how she spent the last couple hours getting it done. Tell her how it’s not your problem and walk toward the door. Wendy will curse, but she will finally agree because this is why she came running to you in the first place: no other man can sexually satisfy her the way that you do, so she’ll take whatever sex she can get, even if she’s not the one being pleasured.

“Fine. Handjob with a little tongue and you can cum on my abs,” she’ll say.

Turn back around, as you should always do. “Well, you better hurry then, princess. You’ve only got eight minutes left before you have to perform.”

She’ll be reaching for that zipper, but she’s a clumsy little thing, is used to handling bigger meaningful objects in her hand like a microphone, or your cock. Help her with the button, but watch as she finally figures out your skinny fit jeans and slides it down your legs.

Wendy will start to stroke, trying to get you hard for her. Let her. Undoubtedly, she will be in a hurry since she’ll have 7 minutes before she is called to the stage. It’ll feel great between her two skillful hands, but she’ll use one to start, claiming it’ll tire her arm, and she needs that arm to hold her mic up to her face in 6 minutes and 45 seconds.

“Maybe if you use your mouth, honey,” you’ll say.

Take your hand. Pinch Wendy’s chin between your thumb and index finger. Tilt her head upward so you can see the look in her eyes, determined, lustful, capable.

“You promised me a little tongue action, where’s that tongue?”

She’ll grimace. “One hand should be enough,” she’ll try to reason, but you know what it takes to get you off.

“Now. Or I walk,” you’ll say, firm and threatening, so that she understands the gravity of what’s at stake. It shouldn’t take more than that. Hold in your excitement when Wendy leans forward, parting her lips enough to stick that tongue on your tip.

Encourage her. “That’s it, right there.”

Guide her, show her where you want that tongue to be used. Bring her forward. She will try to sidestep your cock from entering her mouth, will run that tongue down the side of your shaft and make your member nice and wet. That’s okay! Make her lick your balls while she’s there, watch your cock twitch in Wendy’s grasp.

Notice how her lips have yet to touch any part of your cock. This is intentional. Look at those luscious lips glazed in gloss. She can’t afford to have them ruined by slurping up some dick just before a performance. Everyone will know then. This is why she settled on a handjob with a cum shot on the only part of her body that’s exposed in an outfit that would look better on the floor. Let her be. You’re a gentleman in that regard. If she drools from that open mouth tongue action she’s still doing on you, put your hand out underneath her chin to catch her saliva so it doesn’t drip onto her pants.

There will be a knock at the door sooner or later. “Five minutes, miss Wendy!”

This is why leaving the door unlocked is important, for times like these. Wendy will tense up, her hand on your cock tightening its grip out of surprise. What she won’t know is that the stagehand could walk in on her stroking and licking your cock right now. Imagine the look on her face when he does.

But he won’t. People in this town are too nice.

“Coming!” she’ll say, and you’ll reply with something stupid like, “Hey, that’s my line!” Wendy will roll her eyes and tell you to quiet down, but ultimately will do three things.

First, she’ll stroke faster out of necessity. This is no longer a “want” but a “need”. She needs you to cum so she can get on stage. Second, she’ll finally add that free hand to your shaft, gripping you the same way a baseball player would grip a bat. Lastly, she’ll lick your tip, just a little, starting with the underside of your cockhead, swirling around that sensitive area, and finishing with a little flourish at the tip, all without breaking eye contact.

Compliment her again, then remind her of what she promised. “So fucking hot, Wendy. But you know what happens next, right?”

She won’t need much more of a reminder than that. Apply some pressure with a pushing motion to her shoulder, just enough for her to take the hint. She will fall backfirst onto the couch.

Straddle her.

Watch as her eyes flicker as she lets out a moan when you slip your fingers between her legs, in that thigh gap, rubbing, feeling the heat radiating from Wendy's pussy even with her pants still on.

Remind her for next time: “This tight little kitty could’ve been enjoying some action right now if her owner didn’t call the lion tamer so late.” She’ll be too lost in ecstasy from your touch, and too determined with your cock to notice, but that’s okay, too.

That’ll be enough pleasure for Wendy’s pussy this time. Any more than that and she’ll be too lost in her own little world to give a fuck about her performance, the one on stage later and the one on your cock currently.

By now, Wendy will have done a good enough job to get your cock rock hard. Reward her for it. Reach underneath her top with both hands, carefully lift it up off her arms, and let it rest as a useless necklace around her neck. This way, you don’t mess up her hair by pulling it up over her head, and she won’t need to put it back on when you’re done. More importantly, it now gives you a buffer when you overshoot Wendy’s abs and cum on her tits. Not only will it be a great view, but it will also keep her outfit clean.

You should now be staring at a raw, desperate, topless Wendy. Enjoy the view. Not many people get to watch an idol giving them a handjob with such fervor underneath them. Grasp at those lovely little breasts with both hands while she strokes you. She deserves that much, at least. Watch as the muscles in her biceps flex and extend with each jerk of your cock in her tiny hands. Feel it in her soft breasts, how they jiggle lightly in your grasp.

You should feel a tingling sensation, cock throbbing, almost there, almost ready to dump your load all over Wendy. Tell her. “I’m almost there Wendy, just a little more.” She might look at the clock on the wall for a quick check, but she’ll definitely stroke faster, grip tighter, maybe even throw out some encouragement of her own to move you along.

Reward her again for being so skilled with her hands: play with Wendy’s perfect burnt-almond colored nipples. Titillate her tits. Hear her moans when you pinch those little nubs that will be getting hard with arousal. Feel her abs clench underneath you, every curve and crevice throbbing against the underside of your balls. This will encourage her to stroke faster until you hit your breaking point.

Give her a sign that you’re about to cum so she can prepare for it. You’re a gentleman, after all. It can be as subtle as tightening your straddle against her hips, or as blatant as moaning out, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” If you’re feeling extra frisky, you may even do both.

“Right here,” she will remind you, taking one hand off your shaft to caress her hard-earned abs, showing you exactly where she wants it. You must be careful to cum only where she instructs you to cum, or there may be no next time.

Quicken your breathing. Make sure Wendy doesn’t let go of your cock. Watch as her continued stroking results in blasting her stomach with globs of your cum. Groan if you'd like, she'll consider it as positive feedback. If she’s done a great job, you may notice cum shooting as far as her tits, which isn’t exactly her abs like she directed, but this is why you pull her top off her chest.

Unmount her when she’s drained you completely and admire the work. You are the paint, she is the artist and the canvas. There will be aqueducts of white filling in the crevices of her abs, gutters of cum flowing down her sides and letting the excess drip onto the couch.

She will not be able to get up without the risk of your cum sliding down her stomach and onto her pants. So because you're a gentleman, you’ll hand her a towel so that she can wipe herself off. She’ll get most of it, enough to finally sit up and slip back into her top. If you’ve timed it right, she should have no more than a minute to spare.

“You’re welcome,” you’ll say.

Wendy will be the first to leave her dressing room. “I’ll text you,” she’ll say. Wendy will be too much in a hurry to care that there are still shiny remnants of your cum shimmering on her abdomen. This is fine. If she’s lucky, she can play it off as oil, an “artistic choice”, should anyone ask. “Sex sells in this industry,” she’ll say.

Stay behind, count to thirty. You want to make sure there is enough of an interval after Wendy leaves to avoid any suspicion from anyone backstage that you were just with her. Once you reach thirty, leave the room, close the door, and find your way back to your car.

You may run into someone in the hallway. It could be BoA’s boyfriend who came to support her for the comeback. You shouldn’t say hi, but be courteous if he initiates contact. Worst case scenario, he will ask, “Was Wendy good?”

“What’s it to you,” you’ll reply, and he’ll go on about a dream he had one drunken night where he fucked every member of Red Velvet in a Cinderella-like fairytale. He’ll tell you all about this vivid experience with Wendy, how she was a moaner and liked it in the ass.

Ignore him, it’s best not to dawdle. “It was nice to meet you,” you’ll say. Politely bow and continue to the parking garage.

Once there, you’ll notice Somi just a couple cars over from where you’re parked, leaning against the hood of her car. She’ll be in this amazing outfit that highlights her best features: stockings on her legs that go on for days, a top that shows off that shredded tummy, and the horizontal stripe design that really emphasizes those mouthwatering melons. It’s not a coincidence she is here.

“Hey,” she’ll say. Be polite and greet her back. You’ll try to introduce yourself, but she’ll interrupt you.

“You’re cuter than I thought you’d be,” she’ll say.

Reply back with a compliment. Go ahead and shoot your shot. She’ll appreciate the fresh forwardness that most people would be too scared to treat her with. “And you look more fuckable than I thought you’d be.”

She’ll look appalled, but watch as her indignance turns into a smirk for the appreciation of the wit and brashness, the kind of behavior that gets her pussy wet. This is exactly what she’ll be expecting, after all.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” she’ll say, “Wendy unnie told me about you. I asked her to get you here today so I could see for myself.”

Deny anything she’s accusing you of until it comes straight from her. “What have you heard?”

“I hear you’re somewhat of an idol whisperer. Knows how to pleasure women with no strings attached. Was maybe wondering if I could get a consultation in the backseat of my car.”

You are not yet ready for Somi; she is way too advanced to be covered here. Instead, she will be covered in The Advanced Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes. Politely decline but give her your number. Tell her to text another day when you’re not so busy. If she’s really interested, she’ll call.

For now, there are other things on the agenda: places to go, people to see, things to do. Get in your car, check your messages. There will undoubtedly be a text from one Lee Saerom, another client who loves riding that dick harder than Wendy.

Her text will read: Are you coming or not?

Tell her you’re on your way. She will give you her location, tell you how she wants it. She is a much different beast from Wendy: wilder, but more tamable than Somi.

Now, the rules Wendy imposed on your arrangement are a good foundation, but these are basic principles that don’t necessarily apply to women like Saerom and Somi, women more complicated in their wants and needs. This isn’t the end of the journey—there are more rules to follow, more concepts to learn. Once you feel comfortable with the concepts in this module, take a deep breath and pat yourself on the back.

Congratulations, you are now ready for The Intermediate Guide to Great-Looking Abs in Just 10 Minutes.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Just a little quickie I churned out in a couple days which is a much faster turnaround time that most of my fics. Thanks for reading!

#kpop smut #red velvet smut #wendy smut #male reader #reader insert

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