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ctrlhope · 1 month

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The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

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undercoverpena · 6 months

Text

coming under the christmas tree

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue. “Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. literal porn from me. oral (m recieving), p in v, praise (jo has a thing, run with it), frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes.

wordcount: 2.8k an: i wrote this little imagine and then the gorgeous, wonderful @wildemaven created this moodboard (which inspired the banner) and then i decided to write more.

Putting up a tree with anyone is a chore, but with him, it’s a blessing.

It isn’t because it’s him, because you’re dating, because he makes you laugh and makes your toes curl at any time of the day. But, rather, because he wants to do it. Because he’s methodical. Always thinking, turning—planning.

Whether it’s routes to get somewhere, timing on when to leave when the two of you have reservations or whether your grand plans for a room rearrangement, Frankie plots it out and makes measurements in his head. He’s always right, not that he ever gloats—just nods as though it’s entirely normal.

It isn’t—it’s fucking hot.

Something you expect, and thankfully do, come face to face with when the branches are all in place on the half-dressed Christmas tree. The clear plastic boxes strewn across the living room, his fingers slowly undoing and unknotting the lights you’d haphazardly thrown in the box last year.

You know the answer, but you ask all the same: “You want me to help with that?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives you a look. A blend of ‘be serious’ and ‘you’re good’ cuts across his features, making his eyes warmer and his smile kinder.

Before he even sets about winding them through the branches, you can tell he’s created a light-path. Already heard him mumbling that they don’t go all the way around, remember earlier. His eyes glancing up at it, making mental notes, calculating a route—brown eyes skating and shifting side to side.

You just remain on the floor, legs crossed—checking over the ornaments for nicks or scratches—admiring. You do it a lot, admire him, take him in—gawk, trace your eyes over him so when you blink you don’t waste a second not seeing him.

“We can always buy another set?” you offer, watching him bend behind the armchair, plugging them in, plunging the room in a soft, white glow.

Grinning, Frankie brushes some loose strands from over his eyes, “No need, baby. I’ve got it.”

He does. You weren’t surprised his devised path makes the base of the tree already look full—no section unlit, each bit of cable hidden from sight, blending perfectly with the tree. You were even sure if you turned it 180, the back currently in the corner would even be lit.

It isn’t that which makes your mouth drool.

It also isn’t the way the twinkle of the lights has hit the brown of his eyes when he lets his gaze fall to you, making it appear like a galaxy has burst in them—a sky full of stars, all staring at you.

No. It’s the way the entirety of him is lit up. Practically glowing. It enhances how stretched out he is, practically in a straight line. His arms above his head, fingers delicately wrapping the lights around the tip of the tree. It shines light over the slither of skin exposed from his shirt rising; it makes it more evident that his tongue is poking out, resting on his bottom lip, eyes trained on the job at hand, his priority, his task.

You flutter around nothing.

Feel your heart stammer in your chest as you devour the sight of him whole.

Placing the ornament in the good-to-hang pile, you don’t even pretend to glance at it. Too busy drinking in the sight of the lines on his arms from flexing—those strong, arms which carried the tree down from the attic. Little beads of sweat had clung to his forehead then, having needed to shift things around, move them—move baby, don’t want you to get hurt.

You were something akin to pain now. Desperate, needy and fucking feral. Your throat all dry while your tongue felt heavy, eyes sliding down his frame, focusing on the hairs on his stomach, all exposed, beckoning to be touched, to have your tongue slide down over it.

You only blink when he clears his throat, looking up, finding his eyes on you—tracing over your face, slightly narrowed, attempting to read you.

Another day, you might shy away from it. Look away first, wait until he calls your name and pleads for you to look at him. Today, you don’t. Slowly rising onto your knees, holding his stare, commanding him to blink as little as possible:

Watch me, Morales. Keep your eyes on me.

Sliding your tongue across your bottom lip, your teeth finding a resting place on it—fingers sliding to his hips, watching his hand release the lights, forehead smoothing, any and all confusing lines fading away.

The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue.

“Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

Your fingers undo the button, tracing your tongue again over your lip—hungry, practically salivating—as you slide the zip through the teeth. His gaze is still on you, unwavering, a shadow of surprise in the back of his eyes that this is even happening—as though he is still taken back by the fact he deserves this, deserves you.

“You want me to suck your cock, baby?”

His swallow fills the room—loud, vociferous. Your palm brushes over the hardened bulge, tracing the outline over the thin cotton which remained a barrier between his velvet skin and your tongue.

“I really wanna suck your cock,” you add, purring, practically drooling as you notice the wet stain appearing—blooming, stretching out—as one hand falls from the tree, cupping the side of your mouth.

You like him like this, quiet, taken off guard. So often it is him doing it to you, saying all the right things, whispering all the words which make your skin feel like fire.

When you finally let his cock spring free, you waste no time licking a stripe up the side, tongue flat, brushing over veins as your hands tease the fabric down to the tops of his knees, resting on the jeans that remain there, pointless, likely mildly annoying for him. Not that he’ll care in a second. Less so for now when your fingers wrap around him, take his girth in your palm, warmth spreading over your palm as you slowly pump him up and down, collecting your first few hisses, and a little groan.

You marvel at him—at his cock. How thick it is, how long. How you know it feels between your thighs, how it makes your toes curl. Pressing kissing to the leaking tip, wrapping your lips around the head, hand working the length of him as you make your lips slick, coat them in desire, before you take as much of him as you can. Your tongue pressed to the underside, mouth basked in the taste of salt and just him, as your jaw stretched to accommodate him, to willfully take more, and more.

“Don’t know—fuck, baby—what I did to deserve you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, burning under the praise, under his praise. Your head bobbing, wanting to show gratitude by taking more of him. Cheeks hollowing, his fingers sliding around the back of your head, a comforting hold, a calming one as you relax your throat, wanting to be full of him. Fiercely so.

Tears even prick at your eyes, and your fingers dig into the back of his thighs, lifting off, swirling your tongue around him, running your teeth lightly over him, before swallowing as much of him as you can. Willing for him to smear your throat in him, leave you tasting him with each swallow for the rest of the afternoon.

“Wanna fin—fuck—ish inside you,” he grunts, curls plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed—neck stained in pink.

You moan in response, closing your lips around him as you’re sure your underwear is clinging to you, drenched in want.

You’re half-tempted to slide your fingers inside the band of your shorts, passed the red lace you chose this morning, not even sure if you’d be unwrapped before or after the erection of the tree. Midway through hadn’t crossed your mind. Had never counted on this, never would have made a bet.

But, then he drags himself out, tip hovering at your lips giving you a look—sharp, uncharacteristic of him. “I want to fuck you, baby. Make you feel good.”

Tongue swirling over, he appears to shudder, eyes fluttering, before he pulls the rest free from your mouth. Spit smearing your lip, snapped in the space between where the two of you had been connected.

“You always make me feel good, Frankie.”

Smirking, his arm flexes briefly as he takes hold of his cock. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

And you don’t miss the reference. Not so drunk on him that you don’t remember your own words from before—but you just nod. A retort growing and dying, as you do.

“Spread your legs and show me.”

And you do. Leaning back, sliding onto your rear, your fingers slide your clothing down your legs, kicking it off past your ankles, passed the fluffy socks you’d stolen from him. Bare from the waist down, just for him—always for him. Letting your arms support you from behind, you tilt your head. In awe of him once again as he wraps his hand around his cock, the size even more impressive when you know how big his hands are—your own nails digging into the rug under your palms and ass.

“C’mon, show me you want me.”

You whimper, spreading your knees, letting them part until they’re hovering just above the floor on either side.

The cool air kissing over you, a gasp desperate to emerge but dies somewhere in your throat—swallowed up by a moan at the way he views you. The way his eyes rake up and down you like this is the first time he’s seen you, and not the billionth.

Like all the things he does, it’s with precision the way he rids himself of being contained by his jeans and underwear. Lowering himself to his knees between yours, you lean forward, lips finding his—messy, needy. Need you, they kiss, fuck me, they plead.

His mouth remains on you, only letting enough words escape to tell you to keep his jumper on when your fingers slide his t-shirt up and over his head. He rewards your obedience by letting his hand fall from himself to you—tracing, languid circles on your swollen clit, until he pushes two fingers in. You shift your hips into him, hearing him moan distantly at the feel of how wet you are, whispered praises given that are too far away as your mind rendered nothing (emptied, lost)—

Because he’s electric, you swear. Not even sure the lights need plugging in, you swear he could touch them and they’d illuminate—at least from the way he sparks enough in you to light the whole house up. Making it run, dart, a heavy current that dashes through your veins.

It’s why you whimper at the loss of him—only stopping yourself from whining when you feel him trace his cock through your folds, teasing, tracing up and down as the head of him nudges your clit, watching you, focused on the way your mouth must be parted and the likely sheen on your face.

And, you’re about to say his name—more in warning, in hunger. His body presses you down flush to the floor, the back of your hips meeting the fluff of the rug, as his mouth slides over your jaw, fingers dancing along your thigh, writing words, with the pads of them—leaving teasing verses against your skin.

“Stop teasing,” you say sharply.

Watching your words have their desired effect—that shy smile that grows into a confident smirk. The one you witness more than anyone else, the one you think of when you’re alone in the bed you share and it’s only his voice you have down the phone when your mind tries to pretend your fingers are his.

It’s slow, gentle, the way he begins to line up, pausing at your entrance—keeping you hanging, delicately placed there, held up by string as his breath paints what he wants to do to you against your neck. But you don’t hear it, can’t untangle the tale, least of all when he begins pressing in, sliding in inch by inch—

He’s big. And it makes you breathe deeply as you stretch around him. It makes you shiver. Makes you moan as he buries himself to the hilt, hips flush with yours.

“So good for me,” he praises before his lips slope over yours.

His hips begin to move, and each drag of his cock in and out makes you moan. The sound of you swallowing him, taking every inch of him he’ll give, is the soundtrack; the backdrop being the halo of lights above the two of you. It lights him, kisses along the varying shades that make up his curls, the browns, the beginning greys.

And you’re soaked, drenched—can feel it around where the two of you are joined, each slow drag in and out making it more apparent as you capture his lips. Breathlessly doing so, looping fingers around his neck, tugging lightly on his hair, curling into him, needing him deeper as your legs wrap around him.

It’s then the tip of him hits that spot, all unhurried. A motion he seeks, centres in on as he thrusts again, abutting it, making your eyes close and your mouth stretch each syllable of his name out in a whine. It makes you forget how to speak, and which language to utter. Barely a word for each finger can even come to mind, it’s mostly just his name. Frankie. Frankie. Please, Frankie as the air crackles around you.

He answers—he always does. His hand slides between your sweaty bodies, and finds the bundle of nerves calling out to him, the place which yearns. Doing so with accuracy, and exactness, as he draws shapes, lines and the fucking alphabet until you’re seeing stars, until it’s so hot you swear the jumper will peel from your skin and your head is nothing but a dizzying mess of him, just him. It makes you frantic to see him, outline his face, all cast in shadows because he’s turned away from the lights which made him look ethereal only moments ago.

His cock throbs inside of you, everything else curling inside your stomach, walls twitching around him as you tighten, vice-like, making him hiss. A sound which makes molten spread through you, more so when his mouth slides to your ear, breath laboured, along your skin, begging for you to come, needing you to, please, baby, please.

“S’close, Frankie.”

“I know—doing so well, so perfect for me.”

The words unlock something as a new pace is set, it more unforgiving, one that’ll likely leave marks on his knees from the friction on the rug, as you writhe and cling, half-moons left on his neck, digging in, marking him in the same way he’ll mark your walls in a moment or two.

Then, it floods over you. Drowns you. Coats you from head to toe as though you’ve been plunged in pleasure, left gasping, breath struggling to be located. Your mouth latched to his, burning your thanks into his mouth, your entire body tingling as he fucks you through it, until he’s thrusting aimlessly, so damn close until your name leaves the back of his throat in a sob, a blend of pleasure and relief strewn across his face as he comes deep inside of you. Hips slowing to a stammer, lowering himself down till he’s flush with you, before they come to a stop.

Then, it’s just his pants that meet your strained breaths, until a little hiss as he pulls himself out of you. Leaving you empty, sore in a way you’re grateful for, as his fingers trace over your chin, along your jaw, words being thought in slow bubbles as he stares at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slide a hand to his hip, pinching.

“Just love that puttin’ lights up made you wanna suck my cock, is all.”

Smiling, you run your knuckles along his cheek, and brush past the wiry hair that makes up his patchy beard. “Wait till you see me hand the baubles, bet you’ll wanna be on your knees for me.”

“Good,” he replies. “I’m really hoping to taste how good we are together once we’re done.”

an: i freaking loved writing this, oh my.

i don't usually do taglists, but just tagging a few people who seemed interested in the longer version (sorry if this is annoying): @thetriumphantpanda @swiftispunk @5oh5 @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @reddedmiller @yorksgirl @missredherring @tvversionperson @secretelephanttattoo

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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inthe-dark-tonight · 9 months

Text

Whatever’s on Tonight

joel miller x fem!reader

part 2

summary: a weekend in the desert is anything but lonely with joel miller around

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), no outbreak AU, established relationship, no mention of age difference, fluff, unsafe p in v, creampie, swearing, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, hot tub sex with joel miller ;)

notes: came up with this idea while listening to the next best american record by lana del rey <3 i wrote this all last night and barely looked it over so sorry about any mistakes and thank you for reading!!

Whatever's on tonight // I just wanna party with you // Topanga's hot tonight // I'm takin' off my bathing suit // You made me feel like.., // There's somethin' that I never knew−I wanted

You and Joel decided to rent a bungalow outside of big bend national park for the weekend, somewhere you can both relax and disconnect. It was a last minute decision, you can’t even remember the last time the two of you got a chance to do something like this. You made sure to book a place that was a little more secluded so you could enjoy the peacefulness of the desert, and having a hot tub to relax was a necessity.

You both took a half day at work, packed up the truck then headed out. It was nearly a 7 hour drive, you spent the time talking and listened to music while looking at the scenery to pass the time. About half way through your trip you stopped at a little diner to have dinner, then got back on the road.

As you get closer to the bungalow the two of you are staying in, you begin to feel more excited about the little get away. As Joel drives down the winding desert road leading to the house, the sky is fading into a dark blue shade, dusk slowly taking over. You look over at Joel as he drives, the silhouette of his side profile made more prominent by the fading light behind him. A smile grows on your face as your eyes trail over his features.

“What?” He smirks and glances at you for a second before looking back to the road.

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you break into a smile. “Just excited that’s all.”

He takes one hand off the steering wheel to find yours on your lap and intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly. You sit in silence until he’s parked in front of the bungalow, only letting go of your hand to get out of the car.

“Here we are.” He gives you a content look as you both unbuckle your seatbelts and climb out of the car.

You stop for a second after closing the passenger door staring up at sky in awe, now filled with stars as the moon takes the suns place in the night sky. Joel comes up behind you, wrapping his large arms around your waist. You rest your arms on top of his and lay your head back onto his shoulder, eyes never leaving the sky.

“Beautiful” He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Mhm” You hum, unaware that he was talking about you.

“Let’s bring our stuff in.” His voice is soft, you turn your head to look up at him and his lips immediately meet yours in a gentle kiss.

You let out a sigh before he moves to unpack the truck, hands lingering on your hips for a short moment. You help him grab a few things before the two of you walk up to the house. Joel sets down his bag while he fiddles with the lock box that holds the key for a minute, and you can’t help but laugh.

Once he finally unlocks the door, you walk in and the space is beautiful, a small kitchen lined with floor to ceiling windows that leads into a cozy living room. You set down your bags to take a look around, the home is mid century style and it’s exactly what you hoped for when you booked it. You walk to the other side of the living room and find another wall filled with floor to ceiling windows, a small bathroom, and a door that leads to the bedroom.

Joel trails behind you as you enter the room, a large king size bed facing a sliding glass door that leads to the patio and hot tub, and a bathroom with a huge walk-in glass shower across from a vanity with a giant wall to wall mirror. You turn around and walk over to Joel, a thrilled smile on your face as you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Woah there.” He chuckles and wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight as he buries his face in your neck.

“Sorry, I’m excited.” Your voice is muffled as you nuzzle into him.

He pulls back from you, planting his hands on your hips and kissing the tip of your nose.

“How ‘bout I grab us some drinks and we go out back?” He’s resting his forehead against yours now.

“Only if you go in the hot tub with me.” You give him a playful look.

“Whatever you want, baby. We’re here to relax.” He squeezes your waist before turning around to head for the kitchen.

You grab your bag from the living room and dig around for your bathing suit and snag a shirt from Joel’s bag to slip over it. As you’re putting on your bathing suit, you hear music coming from the living room. You tie your bathing suit top as quickly as you can and throw on Joel’s shirt before walking towards the music.

You see Joel in the corner messing with an old radio, switching through the staticky channels until he stops on one that’s coming through mostly clear. You recognize the song that’s coming through the speakers, and he turns around setting his beer on the coffee table before walking over to you.

Anyone who’s ever had a heart

Wouldn’t turn around and break it

He grabs your hips pulling you into him, hands resting on the small of your back as he holds you close. You rest both your hands on his shoulders.

“Dance with me.” He whispers before starting to sway back and forth.

You move your hands up to wrap around his neck,and rest your head on his shoulder, listening to his heart beat as you sway back and forth with him. Your eyes close, getting lost in the moment just feeling his warm chest move under you with each breath. As you sway back and forth, you lift your head to look up at him and rest your hands on his chest. His nose gently brushes against yours as he stares at you with heavy lidded eyes.

Heavenly wine and roses

Seem to whisper to me when you smile

Joel spins you around causing you to let out a laugh before pulling you back in, his lips meeting with yours in a feverish kiss. One of his hands moves up to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he lets out a content sigh.

Sweet Jane

Oh sweet, sweet Jane

He breaks the kiss still holding you close, eyes locked on yours as he continues to sway with you until the end of the song. He gently tucks a hair behind your ear before breaking the silence.

“Let me get changed and I’ll meet you outside.” He whispers to you, and you nod in agreement.

He plants one last gentle kiss on your lips before you walk to the bedroom and open the sliding door to the deck. When you step outside it’s a bit chilly, you quickly remove the cover from the hot tub and dip your hand into the warm water. When you look up towards the sliding glass door you see the silhouette of Joel’s broad frame in the dim light of the room as he walks towards the door. He’s holding two beers in his hand when he steps out, his eyes meet yours before closing the door.

You stand there with your hand in the water still as he sets the beers on the edge of the hot tub. He walks over to you and you turn around, leaning up against the hot tub facing him. Your eyes roam over his exposed chest and shoulders as he saunters towards you wearing a pair of dark blue swim trunks that hang dangerously low on his waist. He reaches out to grab the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, knuckles skimming the skin on your thighs as he slowly lifts it. You raise your arms allowing him to remove it before throwing it off to the side somewhere, leaving you in just your black bathing suit. His warm hands run up and down your sides caressing your soft skin as his eyes roam over your body.

“You’re heavenly.” He squeezes your hips, shaking his head in disbelief.

You rest your hands on his stomach right above the hem of his swim trunks, he sucks in a deep breath as you slowly move your hands up his soft stomach, over his chest and rest them on his solid shoulders. His hands move to squeeze your ass and you let out a small yelp causing Joel to chuckle.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes giving him a playful smile as you grab his hand. “C’mon.”

You pull him along as you walk towards the steps to get in the hot tub. As you climb in, he rests his hand on your lower back. Once you're sitting he climbs in after you letting out a low groan as he sinks into the warm water. He grabs the beers from the ledge of the hot tub and hands you one, eyes staying locked on you as he takes a sip of his own. You’re sitting across from him, watching him as you sink further down into the water. He rests his arm over the edge of the hot tub holding his beer, and runs his other hand through his hair dampening it slightly.

“C’mere baby.” He sets his beer down and sits up straight.

You push yourself off the edge of your seat and swiftly lift yourself to straddle his lap, your drink forgotten on the other side of the hot tub. You settle in his lap, hands resting on the sides of his neck as he looks up at you. He trails his warm hands lightly up and down your back, causing goosebumps to form all over your damp skin.

“Joel…” you breathe out, rolling your hips into his.

“Goddamn.” He lets out a low moan.

You lightly pull at the hair on the back of his neck causing him to close his eyes for a moment, tongue sticking out to wet his lips. You can feel his hardening length start to grow beneath you, and when he opens his eyes again they’re immediately glued to your chest.

As his warm breath fans across your skin you move one of your hands to find the tie on the back of your bikini, pulling at the string once you find it. Your bathing suit top loosens and his eyes widen, darting up to yours. Then you move both your hands to the tie at your neck, pulling it loose and letting your top fall into the water before placing your hands on the ledge behind him. You can feel Joel’s fully hardened cock underneath you now as he takes in the sight of your bare chest.

“Fuck.” His hips lift and you press yourself into him.

“Like what you see?” You grind your hips into his again.

He looks up at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw as he nods in agreement. You grab his hands from your hips and lift them up to your tits, his eyes falling back to your chest. Your hands cover his as he lightly squeezes and kneads them while you continue to roll your hips into him.

“So pretty.” He hums.

You let out a small moan and his eyes turn dark as they snap up to yours. You remove your hands from his and slowly move yourself back, reaching into the water for his swim trunks. He sees what you’re doing and lifts his hips up as you pull them down, exposing his fully hardened cock.

He removes his hands from your breast to untie the strings on the bottoms of your bikini, pulling them out from under you and tossing them to the other side of the hot tub causing the water to slightly splash on you. You flinch and let out a small shout, leaning into Joel.

“Sorry” he says between laughs.

You wrap your arms around his solid form, laying your bare chest against his before meeting his lips with a passionate kiss. A long sigh leaves you lips as your body relaxes into him. His hard length is flush against your folds, tip nudging at your clit as you slowly thrust against him.

You’re breathing heavily as you break the kiss. “Need you.” It comes out quiet and soft.

“I’m all yours baby.” He grabs your face, placing his lips on yours again.

You slowly lift your hips until you feel his tip catch at your entrance, causing him to let out a low moan that vibrates through your chest. Joel slips his tongue past your lips deepening the kiss as you start to slowly sink down onto his cock. You remove your lips from his and let out another soft moan.

“Oh my god Joel, feels so good.” You mumble against his lips, nose nudging against his.

He’s speechless, both hands on your face as he looks up at you. You slowly move yourself up and down on his cock at a steady pace, just taking in the way he feels slowly stretching you. You tug at his hair causing his head to tilt up towards you more, and that sets something off in him.

He lets out a low growl before lifting you up off of him, spinning you around so your back is to him. Then he starts gently pushing you to the other side of the hot tub, his hands rest on your hips as you settle on your knees and your hands grip the ledge. Seconds later he’s thrusting his cock back into you, causing your body to jolt forward as you let out a gasp.

His pace starts out slow as he trails kisses down your bare back and shoulders. Then he starts to pick up his pace resting one of his hands over yours, the other on your hip as his broad frame leans over you. You turn your head to get a glimpse of him, and he leans forward, removing his hand from yours to grab your jaw as he kisses you.

“Take me so well baby.” He hums as his pace quickens.

Heat is building in your stomach, ready to snap at any second. His hand on your hip moves to wrap around you, holding you flush against him.

“I’m close.” It comes out barely audible.

The hand that’s holding your chin moves to rest on your shoulder as he lets out low grunts into the side of your neck, leaving hot kisses on your skin.

“Let me feel you, sweet thing.” He whispers into your ear, his deep voice making you shudder.

It’s enough to make the coil in your stomach finally snap, eyes fluttering shut as your walls clench around him. He lets out a groan as he fucks you through your orgasm, your name falling from his lips in low moans as his pace starts to faulter. He starts to pull out and you quickly grab his hand that’s resting on your shoulder, stopping him.

“Inside Joel,” You let out a breath. “Please.”

He slows down and plants both his hands on your hips, your words were enough to send him over the edge as he releases himself into you. A whimper leaves your mouth as you feel his warm load coat your walls. His forehead rests on your shoulder as he comes down from his high, breathing heavily while trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby.” He leaves a soft kiss on your shoulder before pulling out of you with a low hiss.

After a moment Joel sits up and turns his body towards you, one hand resting on your inner thigh, the other draped along the edge of the hot tub. You sit up a little and your eyes meet his.

Both of his hands move to rest on on your cheeks, caressing your soft skin with his thumbs as you wrap your arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss you again, deep and slow as your lips move in sync. He breaks this kiss too soon leaning his forehead against yours, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. You keep your eyes closed, carding your fingers through his hair as you take in this moment.

Your chest swells, as you open your eyes you find him peering at you through heavy lidded eyes.

“Joel…”

“It’s true, all the roads lead to you. Everything I want and do.” He takes a deep breath.

Your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you brush your lips against his, taking in what he just confessed to you.

“I love you.” It’s barely audible, lower than a whisper.

Your lips fully meet with his and he grabs your legs to swing them over his lap, lips still attached to yours.

“I love you too.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek.

You curl up closer to him, laying your head on his shoulder. His large hand runs up and down your back as you both sit there taking in the moment, listening to each other's breathing and the faint noises of the night.

tagging a few moots <3

@sscorpiiio @gracieheartsspedro @ilovepedro @pedrospartner @joelsversion @javiscigarette @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @tinygarbage @shatteredbaby @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @isitmeulookin4

thanks for reading 🤍 and thank you @pr0ximamidnight for letting me ramble and send updates ily AND thank you for the summary 🫡

thinking about a part 2 also if anyone’s interested 👀 my asks box is open to chat!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #soft!joel miller #joel miller #joel miller fic #couldn’t stop thinking about hot tub sex with joel

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cowgirlcherrie · 10 months

Text

❍ ACERBUS ! ━━ ellie williams.

⤹ pairing: vampire! ellie x slayer! reader

synopsis: the undead is restless, and an immortal blood sucker arrises for her last dance on earth. Beholding a slayer who has greater plans to lower the blood hungry vampire back into the ground

content: 18+ MDNI! blood mention. death/ talks of death. violence. betrayal. gaslighting. manipulation. hunting/killing. v similar to buffy the vampire slayer. kissing. talks of sex but not directly smut, smut adjacent honestly. vampire! slayer! abby but strictly platonic to the reader. L-Bombs. betrayal. weapons (no guns just daggers n stakes). Ellie is super damon salvatore + katherine coded in this. food play(with cherries). biting. sub-ish loser! ellie. Toxic/dark! ellie

Adficio. To weaken, discourage. To damage or to break.

Adficio was your finger. Coated in the saltiest vibrant red, gooey, and thick. Liquids dripped down the sides of the cushioned flesh and flowed never-ending through you. It tasted metallic, iron pulsating through the liquid; and salty, overly salted. Your tongue ran over the edge of your finger at your paper cut. It stung miserably but you had to get back to work.

As if it wasn’t already late, the sun setting with a musky burnt orange across the sky peeking through the rounded church glass windows of the artifact museum you were ecstatic to go home. Excited to take the warmest shower until the water was scorching hot against your skin and sleep comfortably in your queen-sized plush bed.

You weren’t expecting any more customers this evening, especially with recent town curfews due to mysterious deaths you were preparing to leave right after the key twisted in the lock. With 20 minutes left until closing, you finished dusting off the case of the bookshelf, putting the cream coffee-tinted paper (with your blood still tinting a corner) away into the hefty black book with gold embedded in the spine.

It was an interesting piece of literature, somewhere amongst the lines of old-town supernatural lore and purely fiction but you loved it. It made you hungry, yearning for just a bite wanting more, wanting to sink your teeth into your own flesh. It was important and delicate thin papered copies; and faulty legal documents about a vampire who was rumored to live forever. Pictures; missing from the pages with the name scribbled out in white out. No gun, no knife, no magical life-threatening injury could kill her and she was forever cursed with the pain and treachery to live forever. Although you knew it wasn’t real you still felt yourself being a conspiracist and empathetic. Almost remorseful for the forever young vampire who didn’t ask for a life of immortality. Everything was a little unfair, even for the mundane.

A bell chimed, signally that someone had walked into the museum. Thick-soled boots against the dark wood, creaking beneath them with every step. Shunned light on a lanky and average-height girl, drenched in black from head to toe. You naturally ignored her presence, that was what the bell was for; for questions and giving you the excuse to actually be bothered. So you continued your lonesome activities as proceeded. Picking up your thick wool scarf, wrapping it around your neck in loops; turning off the monitors, and locking the registers.

DING!

Ellie hit the bell with a toothy smirk on her face. Eyeing your figure almost as if you were a bakery-crafted treat as Ellie ran her tongue against the tip of her pointy canines.

“Hi”

Just Hi? You scrunched up your face in confusion at the girl’s rather awkward and sudden intro, her voice was raspy yet soft n direct but she kept her communication clear. If you were being honest she looked dead. Skin pale and drained of any colors besides her cheeks and the root red on her lips, sunken circles around her green ember eyes. She didn’t even look real.

“We are about to close so any prolonged question can wait until tomorrow.” you confessed, keeping it short and sweet, as the girl in front of you only frowned.

You turned your back for a second, reaching into the mini locker behind the desk to grab your coat and your keys, pulling the fabric closer to your chest, when amidst the silence —

DING!

Ellie hit the bell again, making you groan as you turned slowly to look at the auburn-haired girl showcasing a sarcastic smile before reverting her face to a serious expression.

“I am Ellie, and you…you look like you can help me” Ellie whispered sweetly; playfulness rang in her voice as she looked down at the black book that are on the counter. Drool almost dripped out as she looked at the book with her lips parted.

“Did you miss the part where I said we were—”

“Closing soon, yeah yeah I got it. Don’t care, Listen I just need this book and I promise, I’ll be out of your hair” Ellie pleaded bringing her hands up in a prayer position as she gave you a pout. Slowly gliding her ring-coated fingers against the book, making you rush to pull on it from the other end.

“Sorry not for sale! This isn’t a library”

“But it’s…fiction, right? You can make another one” Ellie pulled it into her more, her hands slightly overpowering the grip you had on the book.

“Rules are rules, nothing leaves this museum if it’s not rented”

“So what I am hearing is I can have it?”

“For $100”

Ellie gasped.

“For free? thanks!~” Ellie gave one final tug loosening the book from your very hands and pulling it into her chest.

“I’ll be back! [HEY!] Don’t worry! Don’t stress probably not with the book! [That’s stealing!] Not if it’s rented! Thank you for your help!” Ellie shouted as she bolted out the door, sticky fingers webbed around the book as she ran out.

Making you let out an exacerbated sigh at the odds. You were so going to get fired.

Adiuvo To help or to aid, to assist

If someone told you that the museum book thief would be your girlfriend you would have told them they were lying. It’s been 3 months since the two of you met; 2 that you have officially started dating, although it didn’t feel like it.

Ellie was more secretive than you thought. A mansion to herself where she lived alone which was oddly dark and gothic, you were for certain she would have caused a black paint shortage. Her house was emblematic of a period piece from the 19th century almost a screenshot of a fragment of time. The only odd thing was the mirrors being covered in every corner. A black satin cloth draped over the gold ribbed mirrors almost stapled there with a DO NOT TOUCH!

Ellie hated pictures, she hated phones and settled on a rather outdated Blackberry where she really could only text and make important calls.

Ellie also disappeared often during the day, you only ever really saw her when it was rainy or pushing 8 pm. She’d go ghost on a sunny day but made up for it by pampering you with gentle kisses until you were coated in purple at your neck.

For all of her cons; sins and flaws; aka the disappearing act she made up for it every time. She made it impossible for you to leave. Caging you in by gifting you things that only a fool would leave behind. She gave you a gift of a dainty necklace, as her hands rubbed against your neck to your shoulders placing it right at the center, locking the clasp, and begging you to never take it off. Ellie’s hands didn’t move from behind you when she gave you the necklace that night. It was almost as if she tempted to choke you with it until you listened to her. So you nodded, grabbing onto the little charm, before bringing up a hand to your nose; scrunching your face up at the weird smell the necklace was emulating. Almost like rosemary, thieves, and rotting onion. But you didn’t ask questions, you couldn’t before she whisked you away with a brief kiss to your lips, nibbling at your moisturized lips.

“You love me, right?”

You loved her. With all your precious human beating heart you loved her. Loved her so much that you allowed her to get vulnerable with you that night in the bedroom.

Bashful yet bitchy and sarcastic Ellie became demonic, rough, and perfectly submissive. Ellie was a sucker for fruits. The one human food that didn’t make her stomach queasy and the only thing that could satisfy her cravings for your blood. Preferably all red to enhance the eroticism of the taste.

Ellie found passion in draining the juice out of cherries, swirling her tongue over the plump treat poking her fangs out, before dipping her head down gliding the juices amongst your neck from her tongue.

Ellie repeated this action again. Taking the gentle cherry and squeezing it over your neck, swirling its juices onto your skin with her slender fingers before chewing it whole. Licking her finger tips as she swallowed the fruit whole tossing the pit to the floor.

Ellie watched as your neck dripped the dark crimson liquid, rushing to lick it up; before any of it reached your sheets to leave a fresh splosh stain of red. Ellie was drunk off of the sight of you. Licking over you like a lollipop as her tongue scraped your neck, getting close to your ear.

Ellie lost control.

between the bittersweet taste of the cherries, your fresh and loud perfume it was driving her crazy. Ellie thought her head was screwed on tight, but smelling the scent of one she would call her lover Ellie wanted to do nothing more than cover you in her own. Mask you from the world, hiding you away in greed and hunger.

Her hands gripped at the sheets, fist balled up as she masked a moan struggling to do so when your hand was in her pants. Ellie unfolding like a red lace satin ribbon until she was nothing but a soul. Climax rising deeper…and deeper. You were rubbing up and down in between her folds as she shuttered to hold herself up. Your fingers wet and covered in her juices enough for the wetness to fill the room with a simple pat.

Ellie took the initiative to dig her own hand in between your sleep shorts, mirror your hand motions as the lewd sounds escaped your lips in pure appeasement. Clawing at her back like a cat with your freehand.

Ellie was heavy breathing as her pitch got louder and higher, hips bucking as her hair clung to her forehead in fits of sweat.

Ellie turned into nothing but a moaning mess that night. Shrouding her head in your neck pampering kisses until she couldn’t control the cobra shake of her sharpened fangs pricking her tongue, offsetting her tastebuds. No, she couldn't.

Ellie's mind was shouting a mixture of no's and yes's as she tried to pull away only for you to pull her closer. Ellie let out an animalistic growl muttering an oh fuck before she sunk her teeth into your neck.

“Fuck…wait” Ellie moaned out. She was glad you couldn’t see her face, eyebrows furrowed but her eyes a deep red as veins started to crawl through her skin preparing her to finish off the feed.

Ellie knew if she fed off of you she wouldn’t be able to stop. Until you were one of her, a vampire and your beating heart stopped. Like Ellie needed you, she needed the book; she was going to complete the prophecy.

It starts with you, her perfect pawn.

You tasted like a rich pomegranate in the summer, Ellie’s fangs pulsating as it was deep in the flesh on your neck. Shaking your tender flesh in between her teeth like a dog.

Ellie didn't draw blood but punctured the skin, wincing at the sound of your skin separating between her fangs through her gentle ears. You pushed her away squeezing your eyes closed in pain. Skin pulsing and stinging as her mouth left your neck.

“Ow!- did you just…did you just bite me?”

The redhead stopped, freckles coated a red flush amongst her pale skin, Ellie rambled a hundred sorries. Like a deer gone hunting the cherry juice stained her chin and around her mouth as if she had been messy eating and playing into a ruby lipstick. Stumbling and tripping over her feet as she rushed to put her shoes on and head for your front door as you shouted her name behind her.

Her hair was frazzled, her leather jacket discarded, and her fly unfortunately down.

Leaving you in a mess of saliva and cherry juice; with a pulsating bite mark in your kneck.

48 hours and a complicated reddit search later, with Ellie out of your hair; due to her shame and embarrassment was enough time for a blonde hair slayer to play witness protection.

You were steadily growing frustrated at the repetition of the doorbell ringing as the person on the other end was hitting it like a childish teenager playing ding-dong ditch. Rushing to the door slamming it open to be met with a tall buff blonde who was giving you a perfect smile. Likewise to Ellie, she was notably pale, the color drained from her face almost fading away to her hair making her look like a stoned statue. Thick raybands on her eyes as she held up a terribly condition detectives badge.

“Sorry to cause a disruption, but are you y/n?” The girl spoke up, leaning into her one arm that was posted up against the door creating a distance before the two of you.

You remained silent pushing your knit cardigan closer to cover up your chest in the nippy pre-winter air.

“I’m Abby, Abby Anderson and I believe you know someone who is being a threat to this town.”

You froze, eyeing Abby in front of you as she dug around into her leather jacket pocket, plucking out a very old square picture. Placing the picture face down into your hands allows you to unveil it as if it were a gift. Curiosity got the best of you, aching and throbbing fingertips as you vastly whipped it over to view your lover. Your heart felt as if a chain wrapped tightly around the delicate artery feeling as if the wind had knocked out of you. It was Ellie. Your Ellie but this time she was wearing Victorian clothing, a white blouse peeking through as it was a perfected headshot photographed with just the right amount of dusting and age. She was the missing piece of the book. The name scribbled out it was all her -- the book was all hers.

“I don’t…” you begin flipping the picture back over and putting it in front of Abby, with your hand out “I don’t know who this is. . .”

“I knew you would say that”

Abby snickered as she looked down rubbing her boots against your welcome matt,

“I think its time we chat. Could I have a glass of water please” Abby sends a smile as you prepare to turn your back on the blonde in front of you

Abby was always ahead. Ahead of Ellie, ahead of you, she had been hunting for years. After an accidental bite forced her to succumb to vampirism, life only got hard. Abby shrouded herself away finding comfort in putting down ruthless bloodsuckers who had no better job than to compel humans and make them into a tasty blood margarita. Abby didn’t want the same fate for you. Watching Ellie like a hawk; perhaps a stalker. It was all for a good cause. Ellie was awfully sloppy with how she carried the people she fed from. Sinking her teeth into an innocent being as she drank…and drank until their bodies fell cold and limp against the pavement. Ellie let out a sly moan in satisfaction as she watched the life get sucked out of her victims. The blood dripped down her chin, blood-drunk as she laughed in satisfaction as she licked the blood off of her fangs, and from around her lips being careful not to waste a single damn drop.

Ever since you got in the picture, Ellie’s sloppiness got worse than normal, her drinking patterns have gotten sloppier, and parts of her brain toyed with her. As she strolled the streets at night looking for her midnight snack, sucking the salted liquid through her fangs with her luscious eyes closed, fluttering against the tip of the apple to her cheeks. Ellie saw you. When her eyes closed she pretended that they were you, hell she would never actually do this to you but she couldn’t get your toxic scent out of her mind. Moaning into the neck that she feeds whispering your name as her fangs dig in deeper and suddenly she loses all control, killing the being in the process. Ellie was deeply flawed; allowing a human to get in between the priorities of her stone-cold heart, but whatever she wanted she was certain she would have.

“I think you have to invite me in first, it’s impolite for me to walk into your wonderful home without permission” Abby confessed, lying straight through her teeth, she didn’t care what was right or wrong she just needed permission or else she wouldn’t be allowed in.

Deja vu hit you, remembering how Ellie made the same statement the first time she came over to visit you apart from the museum.

“You may come in”

Acerbus Bitter, gloomy, and dark.

Vampire.

That was a word that was enough to make your stomach curl up into a million knots.

The cold ones.

No one could have prepared you to put your girlfriend to rest. The person who you saw forever with, wanting to get married and have a couple of children too, was all nothing but a lie and impossible. It was so refreshing to you, like a kiss of air, and nature healing itself, but slowly your emotions and your joy turned into a rotting flower, decaying along with all of your emotions tinted black. Over the course of a few weeks, you’ve sharpened your knives and coated your doors in some kind of vampire repellent given to you by Abby. The blonde has taught you how to hunt and detect vampires, the power of the stake, and what unfinished business Abby had with taking down Ellie.

Ellie on the other hand, you haven’t seen in a few days. Maybe it was because you were distracted; the auburn girl turning to nothing but a whisper and rattle of the leaves, spiraling into another one of her disappearing acts.

Now you stood at her very own tombstone, which seemed rather distasteful; bless you, but you were trespassing. Trailing behind Abby like a lost puppy as she took a hammer, drawing back her arm to slam onto the lock that was Ellie’s above-ground grave. Abby came up with a bright and elite plan on how to trap Ellie back at the museum, but the two of you couldn’t have done it without the weapon that knocked her into a stone coma for ages. No, it doesn’t kill her, but it would slow her down and freeze her until it was time for her to be brought back; which would be never. You thought it was beautiful, fresh marble and sleek black with roses surrounding the front entrance into her small 4x4 square, which the main entrance was blocked by a gate — with a hefty lock which you assumed was where Ellie’s casket had been placed.

“The roses are fresh, I think it’s best if we hurry” Abby whispers, matching the tone of the wind that was spirling above the two of you.

Abby took her hands dragging them down at the lock which opened the gate to Ellie’s tomb. The inside was barely lit, with unlit candles surrounding Ellie’s coffin that had the lid wide open with chains dangling from it. Modern-day gothic– and eerie to the touch. As you took careful steps walking around it; it seemed almost impersonal. You wanted to cry and shrivel up, that the way you’d been living for 3 months was a lie, running your hands around the perimeter of her coffin as if you were looking down at a body inside. But there was nobody and you knew the worst would have to come for Ellie to soon return to her rightful place. Abby however got right to work, brushing past you to tap every corner of the brick, reaching for Ellie’s casket, and digging through the built-in cushions. Abby grunts until she stops when her fingers prick a sharp tool.

“Ow!... I got it” Abby hissed as she pulled out a thick and sleek shiny silver dagger with Latin scriptures engraved into the handle and metal of the knife. Abby briefly wiped it against the leather, twirling it in her hand before taking a bag of mercury and dipping the tip of the knife into the material. All you could do is watch, stake in the back pocket of your jeans that was covered by your jacket.

“So what now?” you pushed, putting a hand on your hip.

“We get the fuck ou—-”

Abby stopped talking briefly pulling you into a shadow, blocked by a pillar making you go unnoticed.

“What are you—”

Abby shushed you, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth as you now heard what Abby was hearing. Strong, sloppy footsteps, walking into the tomb as the gate to the entranced creaked.

The stranger groaned before letting out a sniff into the air.

“Y/n I know you’re here.” Ellie croaked, her voice slurring as she limped towards her own casket hovering over it with a loud creak as your body shook beneath Abby’s gentle touch.

“The cats out of the bag babe, fuckin’... let’s just talk c’mon” Ellie pleaded as her boots squeaked against the floor as she was visibly pacing.

You shook your head as Abby briefly turned your body around whispering to you.

It’s the only way.

With that Abby pushed you out from the hiding spot making you let out a yelp as you stumbled onto the floor in front of Ellie. She looked demonic, unreal almost. Blood dripping down her chin spread against her chest, and her hair was a filthy mess. Her once-green eyes glowed a sweet red under the pale moonlight as she watched you crumble on the floor trying to stand up.

“There you are~” Ellie teased as she took a few steps towards you making you crawl back.

“Thought we were gonna have to play hide and seek glad you’re so smart” Ellie taunted as she turned around kicking over a few candles surrounding her casket.

“What did you do?” You shouted, groaning as you used the nearby wall to push your weight up.

“Who did you kill?”

Ellie laughed. You frowned; disgustedly watching as Ellie only laughed at your panicked state. She thought your fear was funny, she could smell it off of you.

“Why? You scared?” Ellie jabbed tilting her head with a really? expression on her face.

Ellie reached her arm out for you to take which you stared at as if she was infected, so she took it back rolling her eyes. Ellie slid off her leather jacket and threw it onto the floor at your feet giving you a perfect view of her spaghetti-strapped cami and the tattoo on her arm.

“I think of you when I feed you know…as my teeth sink down into someone so innocent, like a deer…”Ellie began as she walked towards you slowly making you walk backward moving away.

“Get away from me” you gritted taking the stake out from your back pocket and crossing it over your front pointing side up.

“Ooh~” Ellie teased as she walked even closer until the stake was lined up with her heart. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” Ellie whined giving you a false pout similar to when you first met her in the museum and she stole the book.

“Not even a kiss goodbye?” Ellie taunted, as her body hovered over yours pressing deepening to the stake that was carving into her shoulder.

“Only you could hurt me like this, god what are you doing?” Ellie whispered, with that the waterworks came through as you started to cry, sobbing viciously letting out cries of “get away” as she was in front of you.

“Shh…Shh…Shh” Elie started grabbing at your arms with a firm hold from the base of your wrist gripping tightly. “Don’t cry” Ellie comforted you as she kept one arm around yours holding the dagger and another one up at your temple to which she leaned in giving you a kiss on the cheek staining your cheek with blood. Not her blood or your own but someone else, making you cry even more.

“I don’t- I can’t…we’re over Ellie” You cried out, sniffling in between sobs as your head dropped in defeat.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. . . I’m sorry for what I did. . .I can’t control it, you know that right?” Ellie took a large gulp as she backed away from you shaking out her hands. Ellie was suddenly getting nervous, panicking at the way you were crying. “I just get these urges, I only feed when I want to feed off you so I don’t hurt you. Babe, please listen to me”

“I have to kill you.” You dropped the bomb as Ellie’s sudden panicked state turned defense; she was getting angry and hostile. “I let you into my home…I let you kiss me, I let you fuck me and you didn’t think once to tell me who you really were”

“How is that fair?”

Ellie was numb, staring at you; her lover with a deadpanned expression on her face, deprived of any emotion, she was being straightforward “If you are gonna kill me don’t use that it’s not gonna work” Ellie spat, backing away as she walked over to her coffin staring down at the white cushioning inside. Finally wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

“You’re gonna let me kill you?” you inquired, lowering the dagger by your waist as you watched Ellie watch over her own coffin.

“Only you. Because I know eventually you’ll miss me and take it out and set me free.”

“You don’t know that” you shook your head.

“But I do, I always do” Ellie took the initiative to reach into the coffin similar to how Abby did when the two of you first entered the tomb, patting the bedding as her eyes scrunched up in confusion as she looked away from you.

“Wait where is it”

You knew what she was looking for.

“Y/n what did you do with the dagger that was in this coffin…god what is that smell who is in here with you” Ellie was growing pissed off; anger nagging at her as she was looking control again, fangs poking out on instinct as she grew hostile within the room.

“It’s just me…”

Ellie shook her head closing the coffin. “No someone else is here I can feel them”

“Ellie…it’s just me” you whispered, trying to convince her as best as you possibly good. There was no way she would buy it, but you could lie your ass off and hope she wouldn’t sniff out the hound.

“You can’t kill me with that, I say you just go for it and let whoever took the main piece finish me off”

“Ellie I can’t—”

“I love you!”

You froze, you were her lifeline her weakness. The tether that kept her together as your soul was indefinitely embedded in her own. I love you, so sentimental and meaningful you didn’t wanna use it lightly and in this moment you knew she wasn’t using it against you.

“Hey…shhh don’t cry, I love you”

You had no time to prepare, lost in her lustful green eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you. As Abby snuck behind her, stabbing Ellie in the back making the both of you let out a gasp. Ellie looked down to her chest seeing the dagger poking through the other side of her body. Black blood pooled out and meshed with her black camisole. Ellie tilted her head to look at you, who had your arms steady around her shoulders so she wouldn’t tip over. Your Ellie gave you a faint smile. Your fear-stricken face, eyes wide as you looked at Abby who paced around Ellie to see if the dagger even worked.

“H-have…fun”

“What?” you jabbed, face scrunching up in confusion. Ellie didn’t look afraid to die, hell she knew you would need her. Her words slurred as she was slowly succumbing to an endless slumber.

“Have fun, my blood is….blood ‘n your veins…I’ve put…I put my blood in your tea. Good luck being a vampire baby fangs”

Baby fangs.

Abby shouted NO! Behind you, but it was far too late. Ellie took out her hidden arm revealing a similar dagger to her very own; raising her arm up reflexively to jab it into your own neck as your blood started to pool out. No, it wasn’t going to kill you permanently. However, it would trigger a death into human you and allow you to become what Ellie was. What you tried so hard not to be.

A bloodthirsty vengeful vampire.

You panicked at your slow-beating heart; transcending you into a state of permanent drowsiness and immortality. Beats moving slower and slower as if your heart was put in a freezer locker and your body was chilling over. There was nothing you could do, it was too late. Tears pricked your eyes as a salty clear tear dripped down your face as you felt yourself lose consciousness collapsing on top of your already stoning lover. She betrayed you, the sneaky sly fox was ahead of you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing

“I told you I loved you.”

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kuyurasu · 9 months

Text

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in sumeru, you forgot about the boy you had saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obsene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; a fuck ton. Porn with plot, p in v, mentions of rape and sodomy BUT NOT APPLIED or discussed in further chaps, trauma, severe abuse, slavery, suicidal thoughts, realistic healing, dark side of teyvat basically, heavy sexual content in the future, oral (m+w), praise, degradation, spanking, dom/sub, rough, soft, sweet, mean idc just being rabbits., so many more... don't be nervous, I'm just a little pinch of mentally insane.

... Haunting Adeline, anyone?

Authors note : Enjoy and sorry for being MIA, life fucking me hard-core in the ass. Also, I don't care who reads this. I'm not your fucking mom. I ain't gonna tell you what to read.

Perhaps it was a cruel fate that brought you to where you are now. Something messed up the fairytale, princess wonderland story you were supposed to be in. and somehow, you were here.

If you could curse the gods above, Celestia, and everything, you would. But physically, your tongue was tied. Incapable of muttering but a few words. It was a cruel world to be living in, and while others were blessed, you were in the dirt. Beneath all of them. A slave, they called you. Your own father sold you just so your mother couldn't save you, run away, or live without having a slave tattoo etched on your wrist.

Your father was a cruel man. Heartless, even. He didn't see anything wrong with abuse, it seemed, or treating his daughter or wife like cattle. He cut off the tip of your tongue when you screamed and fought with him as he sold your older brother, ultimately resulting in his death. He broke your bones and scarred your flesh beyond recognition. And then sold you away.

It was when you were 4 years old, though, that you first met the emotion of happiness. It was soft and warm. It started in the center of your chest and slowly spread out to your entire brain. It was definitely infected, yet so beautiful.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, your eyes softening at the little boy in front of you. He was dirty and breathing heavily, yet he was wearing nice Sumeru clothing. It made your heart ache that he was clearly better than you, and yet, your slightly shorter tongue couldn't stop itself from speaking to him. Your voice was shaky and raspy from years of silence.

The little boy did not seem to mind; he actually had a fascinated look in his eyes at the sight of her semi-cut tongue.

The boy looked around frantically, though, at the sound of yells and searches among the villagers. They were looking for him.

"Please, help me." He asked for you. His bright red eyes were the only thing you could make out from the night sky, the mud covering his body, and his trembling form. Regardless, something struck a chord in your heart to help him. Perhaps it was something that you knew would be direct disobedience to your father, but helping anyone and getting back at him was all that pushed you to help the little boy.

You ran into the house, not even bothering to hide your footsteps until you made it to the small cabinet that hid the medical kit. The forest rangers provided every household in the rainforest with them, and who knew you would be using them on someone other than yourself and your mother?

You ran from the house, soft little breaths escaping your lips as you made it back to the boy with little time passing. You were secretly surprised your father did not hear you, so he must be out somewhere.

"H-Here." You crouched next to him, holding out the medkit to him. The red-eyed boy deftly began to pull everything out and use the supplies with unexpected accuracy for a little child.

You looked up nervously, watching the group of villagers go in hoards as they looked for someone—the little boy, not that you knew that. Not that he told you. He wrapped his injured foot and hand before catching sight of the slavery tattoo branded on your wrist. "What's that?" He asked quietly, his small, pale hand grasping your wrist before you could hide it.

You were stunned into silence for a moment, speechless as to what to say in response. You swallowed before answering, "My father wishes to sell me to Hadanish."

"The slave owner near the desert?"

You gave a small, reluctant nod in response to his inquiry, knowing it was something to be ashamed of, even terrified of. The muddy boy grabbed your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Come with me." He pleaded with you. How could he let the little girl who saved him go into slavery? It would kill him alive. No one has ever shown him kindness before you. He couldn't let his savior just die. He knew what happened to slaves, especially women. He was disgusted at the mere concept of you being in the clutches of Hadanish, a man known for his rape, sodomy, and abuse. You already looked to have experienced hell; he couldn't bear thinking of you experiencing more of it.

"N-No, I mustn't... I have to stay with my mother. sh-she needs me."

He grasped the little girl's cheeks, making them muddy as well, while the yells and hollers of the villagers looking for someone persisted. He shook his head, seeing the tears in the little girl's eyes. It was sad that you already seemed so grown up. "You saved me. I will never forget this. I will save you, I swear." He whispered to you, his heart breaking as he knew he had to leave. He had to go now.

You stammered slightly, your heart pounding in your chest, as you began to watch the little boy stand, taking the medkit with him. "W-Wait!" She called out for him, and luckily, he did pause. "What's your name?" She asked him softly, receiving a faint smile from him.

"Zandik, and yours?"

You whispered your name, only for him to nod and run off into the night.

It has been over 500 years since you were alive. It was weird considering you thought that you'd have been passing away like any normal person... But when you got to 40 years old and you still hadn't aged past 23, you knew something was wrong.

So did Hadanish, but he took advantage of it. He knew that as a slave who had no signs of age or death, you were like the perfect worker. It wasn't until your bones ached and threatened to break after hours of labor that he let you rest, only to get about 5 hours of sleep, and that's being very generous. He sent you to nation after nation in chains as a walking slave to serve from master to master; you wouldn't be surprised if everyone forgot about you—just something like a package for them.

Slowly, over the span of 200 years, you began to believe them. Tormented by what you saw through the ages, by the age of 396, you were so deep and lost in your own mind that it was like all you could think about was doing your labor. Until your bones break, until you throw up and can't think about your own name, until you forget to be.

It was at age 512, 5 years ago, that some person helped you. Practically saved you, as you were near death one particular night.

That morning, you woke up to a strange, nagging feeling. Something is screaming in your brain to get out of there. It was weird. After all the years you had spent completely alone in your head while your body got abused left and right, it was odd to hear a sense of self-preservation still remaining.

It was before 4 a.m. on a Wednesday when you got that dreadful feeling. It was something that you had never truly experienced before. Something in your gut told you that if you did not leave in less than 10 minutes, you'd never wake up again.

Carefully and strategically, you stood; being used to the chains that clamped down on your ankles, you shuffled silently to your current master. Asleep, unaware of whatever danger was lurking near the camp. It set your teeth on edge, the approaching lethalness, but the best you could do right now was get the hell out of there.

Your heart pounded and ached in your chest. It had been so long since you felt like hope was even possible in your situation. Maybe it was when you turned 124 that you stopped believing? You forgot. It didn't matter now. To hell with all the past grievances, you were getting out. Today.

With a shakiness you hadn't experienced in awhile, you reached for your master's pocket. The dogs around you, also chained to the metal post, did not stir. Neither did any of the other people as you slipped your hand around your key—a delicate yellow shade. It caused your breath to stutter as you weakly walked behind one of the tents, carefully unlocking your chains, as the idea of them waking up to their prized forever slave to be escaping...

Yet they were trusting. In over a decade of events and masters, you had never once tried to escape. Before today. It was because, at the ripe age of 4, you were already out working for your father—minor tasks, but still. Then you joined your brother; it was ingrained in your very soul to be a slave. To be a worker. They trusted that their product wasn't even aware she could escape. but they underestimated the power of instincts and wanting to remain alive, even for you.

The key twisted, and the lock came undone a second more. It was like time froze for a long, agonizing second, waiting and listening to anyone waking up to the betrayal—no, the resistance of a slave.

When nothing happened, you took off in a sprint. It felt so weird to fully extend your weak, shaky legs, but you told yourself that it was the most freeing, beautiful feeling. The nation of Natlan was beautiful yet savage; the land was not suited for the unfit, yet luckily for you, being a slave that worked until the skin was completely off your feet and bleeding, you were quite capable of this. It was like the pain of you running for hours on end didn't even phase you; the wheeze of your breaths did not stop you, nor did the trembling of your legs to take a breath prevent you from running all the way until you physically collapsed on the sands of Fonatine, laughing like a fool.

It had been far, far too long since you smiled and laughed until you were gasping for air while your legs trembled. Sore and probably having broken bones from your relentless running, while your head was spinning with exhaustion and dehydration. You were on a delirium high, dying as you lay on the beach.

After so long, you had basically killed yourself by escaping. It didn't make you sad; in fact, you laughed even more. Until you were puking up the water and bread from yesterday's lunch. It was hilarious!

You did all this just to die! It was so...

So… beautiful! It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. A crazed expression on your face as suddenly you could not laugh anymore. Your chest was just falling and rising rapidly while your heart rate shot up to levels you'd never felt before. looking up into the sky with wide, shaky eyes.

For some reason, the little boy you helped when you were just a small child flashed before your eyes. Oh yeah. Did he live a good life? You wondered, Did he suffer but escape earlier than you? Should you have accepted his offer to escape?

Maybe you did have a regret in your miserable life. The one choice you could've made could've changed your very life. What would it have looked like? Would your brother have lived?

"H-Hold me." You whispered out, unable to even lift a finger as you stared up in the sky, unable to breathe any longer as, for some reason, it was like life had swept under your feet...

The water dripped slowly. Just dripping in her open mouth to slowly hydrate her body so as not to put her in shock. Foolish girl, she already looked like she had put her heart through a shock. It was lucky she was even barely alive. Although he couldn't necessarily blame her, not after seeing the several slave tattoos all over her body when cleaning her up.

Perhaps it's for the best that she did such a thing, so she knows what life feels like. Overwhelming would be an understatement. He would probably tell her to look after that insanity she felt for that short amount of time; perhaps she could find life where she found death.

Maybe.

He would have to report to the doctor that he would not be coming back until tomorrow, which did worry him slightly. but if he told the harbinger that he had found another rare experiment item, he would let it pass.

"Foolish girl. The world has done you cruelty, yet I have to use this tactic. Sigh." The man gently placed a damp cloth atop her forehead, cooling down the fever ravaging her insides. She would take a while to heal, but that was why he was here. As a Fatui operative, he had never truly saved a life. It felt nice.

Perhaps she would be suited for a life in Snezhnaya; who knows? All he knew in this moment was that she was dying.

"Your soulmate is probably waiting for you somewhere. C'mon, foolish girl, wake up for them."

#dottore #genshin impact #genshin dottore #zandik #dottore x reader #x reader #smut with plot #smut with feelings #fluff #requests open

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gingerjolover · 3 months

Note

I need jb riding my strap for Valentine’s Day 🫠❤️💗

OOOOOH BABY

this one is SO highly requested, and ive got some opinions

shall we take a blurb-esque journey together?

RPF smut under da cut, minors gtfo<3

there was no specification for reader but i think this could be soft!gf reader or even masc!reader bc realistically i think you're getting treated like a princess on valentines day

i do think jules has certain feelings about v-day like maybe the capitalistic affects on holidays riddled with consumerism

but she also will use ANY excuse to spoil you

so vday could be a day where jb literally just does whatever you want, like you wanna go to the aquarium? you bet your ass she's taking you to the aquarium. movie marathon? oh babe, she's on it and has snacks and drinks and the living room all cozy and decked out

depending on how long your relationship has been going on for or even if its relatively new but maybe it' your first vday together, its clear that jb is a GIVER

like she would literally rip the moon from the sky and give it to you kneeling down holding it on a silver platter for your taking

but the one thing that you really want is to give back to her

and there are plenty of things that you can do for jules, she strikes me as a "just wanna be in the same room and breathe the same air" kind of lover

like after a long day you washing her hair, giving her tense muscles a massage, rubbing cuticle oil on her nails and giving her hands a massage with some nice lotion, "coloring" in her tattoos, or even just giving her a long hug or cuddling and pressing kisses to her skin are all acceptable physical means of compensation for what she does for you

but she doesn't ask for things, especially during sex

she strikes me as someone who isn't quite stone, but maybe somewhere adjacent where like yes of course she wants to get off but she finds SO much pleasure in making you feel good that sometimes she doesn't NEED to

but you want to spoil her so after a really nice dinner or maybe a fun day at home, you're both snuggled up and on the couch or the bed and i think the approach might be a little different

soft!gf is definitely more timid when initiating sex, not like timid like shy but more passive? like jb knows your body better than you do practically and she knows by the way you squirm that you want her to fuck you

regardless, i think jb's perfect starting point is her being able to make you cum at least once with her mouth/fingers OR a combo

like thats a starting point, it can only build up from there but to her that is the best way for her to gauge where you're at and its a good spot for her to be (girlie LOVES to be between your thighs, she eats like she's never eaten before i will die on this hill)

and jb will usually kiss up your body afterwards, her wet chin and lips smacking kisses on every part of your skin

the little fucker loves to press her lips to yours, mumbling against your mouth, usually along the lines of "tastes good, hm?", moving away from your lips and pressing kisses on your face, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously

and usually your hands in her hair as she makes her way down, tongue and teeth teasing a nipple, sucking hickeys into your chest but tonight you tug on her hair gently

she looks up, lips all puffy and pink, baby cow eyes blown out with lust, "what're ya rushin' me for?" or something comes out of her mouth, her lil southern twang making an appearance

and you're like, "the strap," and she's smirking, thinking you're being needy and she tries to dive back in, "be patient..."

"no i- i wanna use it on you," tumbles out of your mouth, confidence skyrocketing from your first orgasm

and she looks like a deer in headlights being like, "huh- w-what?"

and all it really takes is you whining a please, before she's helping you adjust it on your body

i feel like soft!gf has very little experience actually wearing the strap, maybe masc!gf has more experience despite jb being the giver in the relationship

either way jb is sitting lowkey awkwardly, her cheeks are a pink mess or she's doing that eye thing where it's kinda giving side eye

"we don't- i don't have to do this jay, i can just use my mouth," you say, making sure she knows she has full control

and she's stammering like, "what?! no i just-"

"what baby?" you ask her so sweetly, running a hand through her hair, and she's shaking like a fucking leaf

"if you keep looking at me like that with that, thing, on you i'm gonna cum," she says quickly, hella embarrassed that just you kneeling on the bed with it is doing something to her

it's honestly a blur but next thing you know jb is on top, riding the strap, your hands on her hips

and she talks about you being whiny.... biiiiitch she is the WHINIEST mf ever on the strap okay

she literally can't form coherent words, her forehead is glued to your shoulder, her breathing heavy as her hands press on the bed next to your head

you have to encourage her to keep going, truthfully she doesn't have a ton of rhythm, like the way she moves her hips is sloppy because she's feeling more than just the base of the strap on her clit like she would normally feel

i think you'd adjust slightly, pushing her up gently and thrusting upwards and she would damn near shriek

it takes a lot to get her worked up sexually, she's the dirty talker when she's domming you but she has no words, just little mumbles and whines and whimpers and they sound so pretty you can't help but patronize her just a bit because she does the same to you but a million times worse casually

"doing so good jay," you'd breathe out and she's about to lose it

poor jb's literally leaking all over the base of the strap like she can't help it

and when she cums she literally squeals and you have to stifle a giggle because her face is buried into your neck

she moves in to overstim territory pretty quickly so you kinda move her off of it and pull out which she does not like and she kinda huffs when you do

and then you pull out all the stops

lots of kisses, warm cloth, ice water through a silicon straw (she likes to bite them this is my hc another hill i will die on), words of affirmation and praise and then a nice soak in the tub

i wouldn't say she's in subspace but she is kind of in a haze until she's laying with her back against your front in the tub and its almost like she sobers up

"you're in my spot," she grumbles, the grumpiness in her voice a result of absolute vulnerability

you just giggle, pushing her hair out of her face and kissing her cheeks

"we can switch" before she's scoffing like of course you were going to switch

there is definitely a debrief about how she felt, i think she can't quite articulate how much she likes it but its not going to be an everyday thing because as much as it felt good she feels more pleasure getting you off

*insert cheesy "happy valentine's day" exchange here* which julien engages in with an eye roll and a small smile before going into the history of western consumer driven holidays

and of course when engaging in pillowtalk, she does spitball some "new positions" that you could try if "you ever want to ya know, wear the strap again," and you're like.... "so you liked it?" with a smirk, and she's kinda playing it off before being like, "maybe for my birthday we could..."

#anon cutie #julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #julien baker smut #julien baker blurb #gingy's cupid shuffle #gingy's blurb night #sorry this is so late y'all!#posting a lot the next few days #love u<3

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velvet-paradox · 2 years

Text

Seen

Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Female reader Summary: When Ward kicks Rafe out of the house, he has nowhere to go until you run into him. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, reader discretion advised, explicit language, strong language, angst, sad Rafe, drug use, fingering, oral (m receiving), protected P in V, detailed smut.

ENJOY!!!

"You owe me." You said as you pulled your truck down the bumpy road to old John Routledge's road, bouncing around in the cabin as you drove, the little air freshener hanging off of your rear view mirror swaying wildly.

Fall was just on the cusp, colored leaves threating the ground as you turned on your blinker, a stickler for not having Shoupe stop you for some miniscule traffic stop on such a fine day if he were around trying to make quota.

"Yeah yeah."

"I mean it this time!" You voiced. You weren't just some limo service or cabbie on The Cut but Pope was technically family, your parents being his parents best friends before either you or the young man shaking around in the passenger seat were born some twenty odd years ago. He had passed his written but not the actual behind the wheel test just yet.

"I said yeah!" Pope grumbled, grabbing an overnight and a large water bottle from the back before he hopped out, giving the door a hearty slap to send you on your way.

"I'll pick you up on Sunday. And hey, Pope?"

"Yeah?" He stopped, holding his pillow.

You pointed at him from the inside, JJ gave you a little wave with two beer cans in hand before jogging down towards the watery bank. "Be safe." ....

Leaning forward you could see the clouds rolling in, a storm was on its' way and you wanted to get home before it hit. You turned down the radio as if that would help in your beat up truck. At the stop sign you saw someone trudging their way along the bank, no sidewalk was in place at this corner of the street. You slowed and made your turn, headlights illuminating a tall, familiar form. Reaching over you rolled down the passenger window.

"I know that's not Rafe Cameron on my side of the island." You called, putting the truck into park with the flashers on, just in case.

Rafe slowed to a stop, hands in his pockets before answering with a quiet "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. What, Barry's not home?"

"Oh he's home."

"Where's your truck?" You looked around at the empty street, a stray cat ducking underneath one of the parked cars on his side of the street.

"My dad drove it home."

"Without you?" You asked once you hopped out, that blue polo that brought out his eyes sat nice and tight over his chest, clearly he'd been working out with his buddies at the Country Club doing him justice.

"Yes without me, Y/N!" Rafe gestured around with his hands then his chest. "Do you see his ass around here anywhere? Why do you care anyway, just go home."

"Relax, tough guy." You chuckled and came to the side, hands up in defense. "It's late, gonna' get even darker soon, you should probably get inside somewhere."

"I'm a big boy Y/N, I can take care of myself thanks."

"Maybe on Figure Eight, but out here..." You motioned around with a shake of your head. “There's six stray dogs three blocks from here, alone. Get in the truck." You motioned with your head, the soft music from the truck traveling just enough for you to know it was a song worth missing. "You want me to take you home?"

"That's the problem." Rafe sighed and bit his bottom lip.

"What is?"

"Fuck, you're nosy!" Rafe shouted, when you took a step back he rubbed at his smooth face, pointing to you then the darkening sky, then to himself. It's not like you two were ever considered friends, forced to partner up in class a handful of times, did a few shotguns at the Boneyard, maybe played a round of Cornhole but not friends. Especially knowing what he thought of Pogues in the first place, he was classist and his attitude spoke volumes.

"I don't... I don't have a home to go to. Not anymore. My dad kicked me out tonight, paid off what I owed Barry and... he just, he just fucking left me here! I have no way to get back to the Eight, it's fucking dark as shit, I'm cold." Rafe rattled on, emotional rollercoaster and it made you worried when you saw the tears in his eyes, he was lost. "I try, alright? I'm not the best son, yeah, I know that but I'm trying here. Trying to make my father proud, I'm out here fighting for my family and what does he do? Chucks me out like I don't matter. But I do matter Y/N, maybe not to you but I fucking matter and instead of cleaning up everyone else's messes, I wish someone would give me a little validation, a little 'Thank You Rafe'. Would it kill 'em, huh? I'm a very proactive type person you know? Just-- sometimes I wish someone would just ask me if I'm ok, ya' know?"

Rafe sniffled and wiped at his eyes before looking at you again, expelled of most of his energy Rafe bent over and hugged his knees. That was the most he's ever said to you and you felt bad, not sorry, per se, for the man before you. You just felt bad that he had a house full of people, siblings and friends and yet here he was out on The Cut breaking down and venting to a Pogue.

It made him seem less scary and boisterous, made him human.

With a sigh you closed the gap, not sure if you should touch him but you did, softly. Rafe slowly stood, blue eyes fixed on where your hand was on his cool shoulder.

"Rafe. Are you ok?"

Rafe swallowed his pride and pursed his lips and shook his head, dirty blonde strands sweeping across his brow. "No. No Y/N I am not ok, I am so not ok."

"You wanna' know what I think?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"I think you're fucking tired. No; more like fucking exhausted." Rafe looked somewhat relieved, you could see him working things out in his brain, squinting in the moonlight. You made up your mind as the words left your lips. "Alright, I'm taking you home."

"Home? Did you not hear a fucking thing I just said?! I just poured my heart out to you and--"

"Relax. I'm not taking you to your house; I'm taking you to mine." You announced, crossing the road to hop back into your truck, waving for Rafe to follow with fluid steps.

....

"Well, you've got three options Mr. Cameron. Anywhere on the floor is free, the couch which also turns into a full though it's a little lumpy so... or you can sleep on the right side."

Your house wasn't a mansion by any means, just a cozy one level you decorated over the years. Rafe clearly hadn't been this far on the OBX by the he was looking around like a tricked dog going to vet and not a car ride. He stood next to you, his height made him look like a giant inside your small angular living room.

He shoved his hands in his pockets again.

"The right side of what?"

"Of me."

Rafe choked and gave you a set of neatly furrowed brows.

"We're adults Rafe, we can sleep in the same bed."

"I know that I just... I haven't slept with anyone in a long time."

"That's shocking." You snorted and turned on another lamp, kicking off your boots and tossing your purse to an ottoman.

"Hey, thanks. But... why are you being nice to me?"

"Someone should," You shrugged and looked at him trying not to take up space as he looked around. "There's some pizza in the fridge if you want, figure out where you're gonna' sleep. I'm gonna' take a shower."

Rafe just nodded and continued perusing your things.

....

"He's where?!" Pope shouted, dropping his side of the cooler you were helping him carry into the back room of his dad's business.

"Calm down, it's just Rafe, not some psycho killer." You grunted and hefted up the heavy box, walking backward but making sure every ten feet or so you wouldn't trip and break something.

"Actually I'd feel better about some stranger being there than Rafe fucking Cameron in your house!"

"Language!" Heyward called out from the register, a pencil behind his ear when you passed by.

"Sorry, Pop. I'm serious though, get him out of there."

"He's not going anywhere. He doesn't even have a car, it's just for a few days I'm sure."

"A few days? Is your head on straight?," You held in your chuckle when Pope's voice cracked at his exclamation, his eyes narrowing. "This is Rafe Cameron we're talking about here, the biggest bully of every Pogue since he's been alive probably! And he's staying at your house, on The Cut... hell Y/N he even bullied you when you went to school with him!"

"I think he's misunderstood." It was true but that was how long ago now? You and Pope brought the cooler down gently and you dusted your hands off on the smooth apron you wore over your clothes.

"I think he's fucking crazy!"

"Pope, don't make me come back there!"

"Sorry." Pope apologized again with a sigh. Your friend touched your shoulder and pointed a finger at you as if he were the older of the pair. "If he tries anything..."

"Right. I'll be sure to let you know." You chuckled and finished unloading the latest shipment.

....

"Are you playing Jenga... by yourself?" You smiled, Rafe's big body was sitting on the floor of your living room, just pulling out a middle block when you got home. It was strange to see someone in your house after living alone for so long, let it be the Kook King himself. Rafe pushed back his hair, ready to make his next move.

"What else am I gonna' do?" Rafe rolled his eyes.

"I'm surprised you're not wasting your battery on your phone. Call up one of your buddies to take you instead of me."

You noticed how he worked his jaw and cracked his neck, placing the block to the top of the tower. "Got a little silly waiting to see if my dad would call so I turned it off. If he wanted me home, I would be."

"How long do you think you're gonna' hang around The Cut now that you're an honorary Pogue and all?"

"I'm not a Pogue." Rafe snapped.

"I wouldn't be so sure," You made a face and joined him on the floor, taking a block of your own before responding. "Let's see... you got in a blowout with a parent, check. Their giving you the silent treatment for emphasis of how much they stand by said statement, double check. You got kicked out of the house and all of your lovely amenities and are crashing on someone's couch, triple check. And by all those accounts, that definitely has Pogue written all over it!"

"Oh fuck off."

"You can stay as long as you need to, if you need a ride somewhere just ask."

You watched the block of choice slide out.

"I can drive, ya' know?"

"Yeah, your truck, not mine."

"I'm not gonna' total it! I need to get some clothes at least, I've never worn the same outfit two days in a row in my life. Gross."

"Oh shut up, live a little. You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe. I know you." You said and took your turn.

Rafe's next words made you second guess the blonde.

"Nobody knows me."

....

"I don't understand why we waited until after midnight to come here." You voiced and parked your truck at the front of Tanny house, Rafe sighed and told you to be quiet.

"Because I don't want to see my dad, or any Cameron right now," Rafe huffed and pushed open the creaky passenger door. "I won't be long, just gonna' grab a few things alright? don't ditch me."

You watched him cut a short jog through the yard.

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel you waited, why you didn't really know. The guy was home, Ward was probably over stewing about kicking out his only son. All you had to do was drive off but something about Rafe being sullen and human, a different version you got to witness was intriguing, a mystery. You didn't mind the company either, you reasoned. Especially handsome company.

With that smooth jaw and square chin, you remembered that odd zing, that scrape up your spine when you saw him sweet talking some naïve girl at the Boneyard. What was he saying to them to have them bat their lashes and gloss their lips, cock their heads and laugh with him. Or was he laughing at them? Too vulnerable to know they were in the clutches and paw of a serial predator.

Especially when they flirted over how much coke forty bucks could get them.

You were ripped from your memories when the door creaked open once more, Rafe had grabbed a red duffel bag and held it in his lap when he got back in. You snorted when you realized he had made himself a quick sandwich, holding it in his mouth.

To your surprise he offered the rest to you on your drive back over the bridge. ....

A few days turned into two weeks. It was strange how easily you two interacted, understood the silence, domesticated Rafe Cameron was something you thought didn't exist. Let alone picture.

He was the enemy for most of your life and here you were, watching the way his fingers moved and flexed while he rolled a joint. Stargazing in your little backyard. The lighter took a few tries before he lit it, inhaling the smoke with a satisfied smile before he passed it to you.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Rafe asked when half the joint was gone, making you sit up.

"Do you think you're a bad person?"

"I'm asking you." Rafe sniffed and took the joint from your hand.

"If you had asked me a few years I would've said you were the worst," Rafe snapped his head to you but shrugged, knowing it was true. He was an asshole. "But... I wouldn't let you stay with me if I thought you were."

Rafe clicked his teeth and took the last full drag, putting it out on a used pasta sauce lid. "Nobody wants me."

"What?"

"I haven't heard from my dad since I got here," Raffe shrugged again, holding onto his knees and digging the heels of his shoes into the ground. "He texted me once though, last Saturday, asking if I was safe. I tried calling Top and Kelce... said I couldn't stay with them either."

You frowned. "Do they know where you are?"

"They know but they don't care," Rafe smoothed back his hair with both hands and bit the inside of his cheek. "Maybe I'm as bad as everyone thinks. Might as well be the villain, somebody has to be."

You were unraveling the layers that made up Rafe Cameron without even knowing, all he really needed was someone to listen to him. To hear him out, to entertain his venting and let him clear his head. You wondered if he had any real friends at all, if they'd change the subject or ignore his feelings all together. Maybe that's why he wanted to stay with you, you saw him.

"I think you're crazy," Rafe snorted and gave you a look when you bumped your shoulder against his own. "You're not a bad man Rafe, you've got demons like everyone else. Let's not waste a good buzz so," you laid back on the grass, tucking your hands behind your head. "Now, show me which constellations you know."

Rafe chuckled, a genuine and foreign sound that felt like bells ringing. "I don't know any."

"Sure you do! Everyone knows at least two-- so show me."

"Alright alright." Rafe shook his head and laid down next to you. A light wash of his cologne puffed up around you that made your mouth water, or maybe you were just high. You smiled when he wiggled a little closer, crossing his ankles and pointing up to the night sky, clearly making up constellations as the night went on.

Another thing you'd never thought you would hear, or be anywhere near was his real laughter.

....

You balanced the grocery bags in your arms, not paying attention to anything other than not tripping, breaking any eggs or--

"Alright man, I'll catch ya' later!"

You looked up just in time to see Barry hop down your front steps after shutting the door.

"Barry?"

"Oh hey there lover," Barry chided and wiggled his fingers at you. "So it is true, then huh? You and Country Club shackin' up, playin' house and shit."

"It's not like that." You gripe and walk a little further, gripping the handles on a slipping bag.

"Not what I heard," Barry flashed a smile and wink that made you shake your head as he swing his keys around his fingers. "You two play nice now!"

"Fuck off." You said and hopped the night air brought your words to his ears as he chuckled and you went into your house.

You didn't see Rafe when you came in, kicking the door shut behind you and made your way into the kitchen. Your poor fingers were numb as you flexed them and looked around the kitchen. You were just about to call out to him when you heard Rafe instead. Sniffing; in your room.

"Just one more... one more and you'll be set. You'll be squared away, yeah? Be a man... be a man."

You just tapped the door with your foot and a jumbled mess that was Rafe Cameron jumped away from your dresser making it shake.

"Oh hey! You're home!" Rafe wiped his face and covered the line of coke on the old wood. "I was uh I was waiting for you."

"For what? Why are you in my room?"

Rafe looked around for a moment, touching his chest. That damn blue striped shirt of his that made his eyes glow, or maybe it was the coke he was doing. He seemed just as confused as you were to be in your space. Since he'd been 'shacking up', as Barry had said, Rafe had been a gentleman and crashed on the couch. A few nights he was face down, shirtless and shivering when you passed him to go to the bathroom, covering him up on your way back to your room.

"Um I wanted to talk to you."

"About letting Barry come over when I have no recollection of telling you you could just bring home strays." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Barry isn't a stray, Y/N! God... I'm sorry sorry, he's ya' know. A friend. And I um, I needed said friends' advice so yeah. I invited him over, just for a little bit though," Rafe rushed out to say, gesturing with his hands, jittery.

"Whatever," you shrugged. "Just don't leave that shit around, I'm not judging you just... gimmie’ a heads up." You said and went to put away the groceries. "I'm gonna' talk to my dad." Rafe said from the door jam of the kitchen, biting at his nails.

"That's good, when?"

"I was thinking tonight actually um," Rafe bit at his lips before coming closer and putting a box of chips on top of the fridge for you. "I wanna' do it person so... would you mind like, giving me a ride later?"

You stopped and looked up at him, a questioning and honest smile on his face. "Sure. Just let me know when ok?"

"Ok... ok yeah. Thanks."

Then it happened.

The most bizarre and peculiar event of your entire life happened in an instant. Maybe it was genuine, a long time coming, some pining affection or honestly, the coke but... Rafe hugged you. Like a real hug, both of his long arms reached around your neck, his face inches from your own. The warm smell of his cologne a burst in your face, surrounding you like a cloud of intimacy. What seemed like forever you reached out and touched his back.

"Seriously, thank you.”

"Yeah. Sure..." You said in a daze, stepping back when Rafe took out his phone and hurriedly went to the living room.

"You sure you want me to come in?" You asked once the two of you pulled into the Tanny Hill drive, not out on the street as your previous visit.

"Yeah, why not?" Rafe shrugged and hopped out and gave you a look that told you to hurry. "I don't know how long this is gonna' take so."

"If you say so.”

Ward looked you up and down, a small smile behind his beard when you two walked in. A flash of light streaked through the night sky, a distant rumble in the distance. Rose got you something to drink.

"So you're the elusive Y/N then," Ward finally stuck out his hand, watching his son rub the back of his neck next to you. "Nice to meet you and thank you for taking care of my boy. So, I assume he's been bouncing around between friends this month, hmmm?"

"You didn't tell him?" You shot Rafe a glance.

"I um, Rafe's been staying with me... the whole month."

"The whole--" Ward scoffed and looked at his son. "Interesting. And he hasn't been any trouble?"

"I'm right here, dad." Rafe huffed.

"I know son, I just wanna' make sure you're not making trouble for this little lady here too. We'll talk in my office," Ward said and grabbed onto Rafe's shoulders, ushering him further into the estate leaving you behind with a glass on iced lemon water from Rose. "Thank you again Y/N."

"So," Rose sweetly smiled and walked through the downstairs living room, which was about the size of most of your house. "How was the monster?"

"Excuse me?"

"Rafe. That terror of a boy, I tell you Y/N it has been a blessing not having him torturing the house lately. I mean, he's mostly in his room but when he's not, oh God help me. Always slithering around, looking for Ward's constant approval is very exhausting."

"That's kind of rude."

Pieces to the puzzle were fitting together why Rafe was reluctant to come home, to be around people who didn't trust him as far as they could throw him. Maybe that's why he always acted out. Hurt people tended to hurt people.

"Please," Rose snorted and began to walk off. "He knows all this, I've told him several times."

Once she was out of sight you decided you didn't like this woman, and it would not be the end of the world if you never spoke to her again.

You jumped when a cracked of thunder boomed through the house, rattling the chandelier above your head in the hallway you had found yourself in. Looking at paintings and family photos, one was even an old fashioned portrait.

The water was long gone, just melting ice cubes at this point when the rain started to come in, pattering and streaking down the windows. You stood by one, watching the rain fall, little flashes of lightning bloomed above. A nice night.

You got lost in the steady rhythm building up outside, when a rather bright and far closer bolt of lightning struck near the house you caught Rafe's reflection in the window. He was quick to meet you there. He took your hand.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Just come on." Rafe smirked and led you up the winding staircase, you'd never seen so many in your life. How did they manage to get any kind of furniture up these things? You slipped but caught your step, holding on to Rafe's arm. There was another flight of stairs up above it seemed when you stopped on a landing.

"Rafe, what's going on?" You asked once secure and hidden in his room. "What happened?"

"Dad said as long as I keep my nose clean and work hard, he'll let me come home," Rafe smiled and wiped his mouth with both hands. "I'm gonna' do it this time. I have to," Rafe tapped his head then turned to you, placing his heavy hands on your shoulders. "He said he's proud of me. That I've been on a good path since you found me. I'm gonna' get my shit together. For real this time."

"Rafe, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I know that, I know. I just... you've been there for for whatever reason, that's on you," Rafe joked and roped you into another embrace, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. "You get me. You saw me, the real Rafe and you didn't run for the fucking hills. Most people don't."

"Well you are an asshole."

There was a brief second where you wondered if saying that was such a good idea but then you felt him laugh through you.

"True. I'm not the nicest guy, unless you're around I guess."

"I'll take the compliment."

It felt strange but a good strange, squeezing him around the waist when a loud crack of thunder sounded again, signally you should maybe take off before it gets too bad to see. Hydroplaning was not on your To-Do list today.

"Well I'm glad it worked out, you were a pretty decent roommate." Rafe let you go but stayed still in front of you. "I should probably head out."

"Why?"

You frowned and looked at the window, pointing to it. "Cause it's raining, have you looked outside?"

"Yeah I know it's raining, pretty hard actually so why are you trying to leave?"

"Do you... do you want me to stay?"

"Yeah, that's kinda' why I brought you up here." Rafe scoffed. "And to give you this."

If you would've have been told senior year Y/N that some kicked-rock-down-the-street years later you would be in Rafe Cameron's room on a rainy night, in his arms and kissing him; you would've backhanded them on sight.

But, as things played out, that's exactly when happened. You knew you were in big trouble the minute Rafe held your head in his hands, blinking down his nose at you it made your stomach flip. You opened your mouth to say something, anything at this point but all that came out was a whine when he kissed you.

You grabbed on to his arms, your poor knees from working so hard and climbing all those steps, threatened to give way if you didn't. Rafe didn't stop, catching you and holding you up and flush against him.

....

"You're so nice, so fucking nice to me ya' know that?" Rafe breathed into the soft, bare skin of your neck. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling him tense and tremble against you sitting in his lap.

"Someone has to be."

Rafe paused and grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you back to nose level. "You said that before."

You smiled and cupped his face, he nuzzled into it. "You're so touch starved, aren't you?"

"Us Cameron's aren't big on affection." Rafe admitted and wiggled beneath you, he was straining against the seam of his boxers, you could feel his cock engorging and growing hot. You weren't fairing any better, you knew if you moved them aside your slick would be glistening.

"That's a shame but that means," you hunched over and whispered into his ear. "I get to be real good to you. I'll touch you anyway you want, however you want me too baby, you got it."

Rafe groaned and stole a sloppy, teeth clicking kiss. You smiled against his mouth, moving up to your knees quickly and peeled down your panties, adding them to the pile.

Rafe's thighs were ticklish, spreading his long legs almost cost you a black eye! He apologized but let you rub your hands up and down his skin, giving them each a squeeze, your eyes focused on his cock. The outline alone had you salivating, it jumped when you kissed his hip, taking a fresh bite of the meat you found there.

Rafe fisted his sheets, clenching his teeth he kept his eyes on you, boring into your swift movements, voicing how good it felt. He whined when you finally put your mouth on him, a sound of relief when you wrapped your hand around what didn't fit, the rest disappearing into your mouth.

You'd had reactions of course, you know what you were doing but the way Rafe made it sound was he was in heaven.

"Fuck that's so God damn good, so pretty like that. Fuck." Rafe groaned when you swallowed him further, his stomach muscles tightening when you dragged up your free hand, nails gently scratching his too warm chest. You clenched your walls around nothing as he caught your wrist, gave it a slight tug and soon you were feeling the inside of his mouth on your fingertips.

You gagged, on purpose a long line of spit joining your mouth to his cock, you had to see what he looked like. Eyes shut, both hands now gripped your wrist while he savored having your fingers in his mouth. His mouth pleased around them, he looked content. Happy.

You kissed the crown of his cock and moved to lay on your side, resting a leg over his hip. He looked so dreamy, long lashes and blown out blue eyes, he pulled your fingers from his mouth and sat up on his elbow.

"You're a total smoke show." Rafe praised and grabbed your hip before you pulled him over to you for a kiss.

"Finger me." You whined and bit your lip, watching a true grin morph on his face. He gave you a nod that spoke of 'you got it' as he spread your lips. Those long fingers of his had you quickly covering your mouth, they reached new heights and depths you hadn't felt touched before. He liked that and wedged in a third finger, you rolled you eyes feeling the cool metal of his ring meet the hood of your clit every other thrust.

"How's that, pretty thing? That feels so fucking good when you squeeze my fingers like that."

"Dammit Rafe," your walls instantly gripped them, "I'm gonna' cum if you keep that up."

"That's kinda' the point," Rafe snickered and moved to kiss you, hovering just out of reach. He backed up just out in time for your lips to miss. You groaned. "Don't worry baby, I've got you. I'm gonna' make you cum more than one time tonight, I can tell you that."

You grabbed the back your leg, his fingers thrusting at a different angle that had you seeing spots, you couldn't shut your eyes though, the view was too perfect to miss. Rafe finally kissed you then, could feel you pulsating around his thick fingers.

You felt it, that riptide of satisfaction coming into view, you cupped the back of his head, making sure he didn't tease you again with the threat of a kiss as you came, moaning his name as a chant. The aftershocks threw you off, good God was he good at that. You let your leg drop as you caught your breath.

"You're gonna' kill me." You said in between breaths, shivering with a passing rumble of thunder.

Rafe chuckled against your cheek. "Would it be too much to ask to fuck you?"

This time you laughed. "Oh baby, you're not gonna' fuck me," you patted his cheek and rolled him over, beaming when he instantly put his hands on your thighs. "I'm gonna' fuck you."

In a rush Rafe pointed to the bedside table, rummaging in the drawer for a condom, thankfully you found it and tore it open. As you sat up on your knees, watching Rafe roll it out and onto himself, you looped an arm around his neck, scratching the fine hairs on the back of his head. He shuddered when you did it again.

You brought him to you, both of you in a sitting position before you wiggled and rolled and angled your body down to take his cock. Rafe had a creased brow and open mouth, flipping between watching your pleasure and where his cock was disappearing inside you.

"Holy fuck!"

You clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. "Calm down."

His mouth was moving and tickling your palm so you moved it away momentarily. "What?"

"I said I can't help it, jeez baby you just took all that cock like a fucking champ." Rafe held you close to his chest, bare and hot and sweaty. There was no place you'd rather be, you held his face to your neck and you knew he'd leave a bite or two if you let him. "Fuck me, baby."

"You want it?" You smoothed back his hair as you ground yourself against him. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it, want it so fucking bad. I want you so fucking bad, driving me fucking crazy here. Could fuck all day." Rafe raggedly said against your throat.

"I'm all yours."

....

His hand on your throat felt dangerous and comforting as he fucked up into you, foreheads resting and moving together in tandem, both of you a total mess for each other.

"Rafe..."

"I don't want to lose you. You see me, you know me. I want this, I want you." Rafe struggled, giving your neck another squeeze his hips bucking up.

"You said... fuck baby that's so fucking good-- you said no one-"

"Fuck what I said! You know me, the real me. Stay, please stay. I'll be good I swear." Rafe whined when licked into his mouth, capturing that pouty bottom lip that was ranking higher and higher of your favorite things list.

"I'll stay."

Rafe was full of surprises as he slipped a hand between you, using the pad of his thumb he pressed and circled your clit and bit into the side of your tit.

"I'm gonna' cum!"

"Cum for me, I need it I need it I need..." You yelped, losing yourself and your voice.

....

"I've never fucked like that before." Rafe admitted when you got out of the bathroom, thankful that he had his own. You laughed pulling on the shirt you'd helped him out of from the floor and got back into bed.

"And you won't," you laughed into his shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure no one fucks like you and I don't wanna' find out," he settled down and cupped your head in the crook of his elbow. Musing to himself and now to you. "I'll be good, from now on I'm straight. I'm gonna' do it this time."

"I'm with you."

Rafe craned his neck a little at the same time as you tilted your head for a sleepy kiss, the storm fading fast. "So you'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

Tagging: @cherienymphe @synnersaint @hoebx @starkeyobx @outerbankspov @cockslutpadalecki @poguesarerogues @valeriiecameron

#enjoy bbs #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfication #we should really come up with a name for this #i love him

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honeybeefae · 2 years

Text

A Slight Inconvenience (Azriel x Reader)

Summary// When Rhysand sends you and Azriel to visit the Day Court, Helion “mistakenly” only has one room for the two of you. Exhausted from your travels, you and Az brush off his half-hearted attempts at a solution and settle in for the night. That is until one of you breaks.

(This was an anon ask about an Azriel x Reader “one-bed” trope! I love this trope with my entire heart, and I struggled with choosing enemies to lovers or friends to lovers, but the latter won out in the end. For those of you wanting the third chapter of THATH, it is coming, I promise! I just needed to write something new to get my creative juices flowing. (NGL I kinda wanna write a part two to this??) As always, thank you so much for the love and support, and I hope you enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+ only, a lil bit of angst but mostly fluff, p in v, praise kink (slight), masturbation (female), eating out (f), multiple positions, mirrors, pretty soft for Azriel ngl

A Slight Inconvenience

The sun was currently setting in the sky when the two of you arrived at Helion’s home. It shouldn’t have taken as long as it had, but Azriel had a late start to the journey, which set everything back. He had said he needed to have a discussion with Rhysand before you left, but that ended up taking two hours.

“You okay?” You asked while giving him a sideways glance. The fiery colors that the final rays of the sun cast across the land seemed to paint onto his skin, stealing your breath away.

Azriel rolled his shoulders backwards while stretching out his wings, smiling as you both stopped in front of the golden doors. “Never better, princess.”

A roll of your eyes was your only response to the nickname he had coined for you. He had found you in the library one night, curled up and reading your favorite romance about a princess and a loathsome pirate falling in love, and he had not let you live it down since.

“A princess that can kick your-” You didn’t get to finish the sentence as the doors suddenly opened and Helion stood before you, a mischievous smile on his face as he held out his arms in welcome.

“My favorite emissaries! Did you have trouble finding me or did the two of you get tangled up somewhere?” Helion chuckled, his tone suggestive as he ushered you both inside. “Dinner was served earlier however I have no problem finding someone to whip something up for you two.”

You shook your head and smiled at him, not missing his eyes roaming both of you up and down. “That is very kind of you but we will be okay. If anything, we both just need a good night’s rest.”

Az nodded in agreement as Helion gave a small pout. You took in the magnificence of the walls and ceilings above you as the two men chatted about sleeping arrangements, admiring the artwork and details of everything.

“Do you not have any other rooms?” Azriel asked, voice agitated, which brought you back to them. “You can’t possibly be out of them all.”

Helion shrugged his shoulders while crossing his arms, not looking sorry at all as your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” You chimed in as you joined your friend’s side.

“He only has one room for us. The others are apparently under construction or occupied.” Azriel complained as your lips turned down into a frown. Helion held up his hands innocently but you didn’t want this to turn sour already, especially since you were going to be seeing him all day tomorrow.

“It’s fine, Az. Let’s just go, one of us can take the floor.” You stressed while gesturing for Helion to lead the way. The Illyrian grumbled something under his breath but followed beside you, keeping his eyes locked on the man in front of you.

“I really am sorry for the inconvenience. I thought…” Helion began but quickly shut down whatever he was about to say, clicking his tongue. “Tomorrow I will see to it that you have separate rooms.”

“Thank you.” You responded gratefully. “We understand that things come up though, right Azriel?”

He shot you a sideways glare which you responded to with a raised brow. A low sigh left his lips as he nodded and said, “Yes.”

“Perfect!” Your host grinned, clapping his hands as you arrived to a room at the very end of the hall. “Here you are. If you have any trouble settling in, I will be in the library.”

Azriel didn’t waste time as he opened the doors and scoped out the room, leaving you with alone with Helion at the doorway. You gave him a sympathetic look and a soft smile, placing your hand on his shoulder and thanking him once more. He cast a glance at Az before bending down to your ear, whispering softly.

“If you need anything you know where to find me.”

You felt the heat rise on your cheeks as you bit the inside of your cheek, not seeing your friend’s shoulders tense at the intimate action. “Have a good night.” You whispered before hurrying inside, shutting the door behind you as Helion chuckled and walked away.

“What was that?” Azriel grunted, arms crossed.

“Helion being Helion.” You muttered as you unpacked your small bag, laying out your pajamas and clothes for tomorrow. He wasn’t going to drop the subject though, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he sat on the bed to watch you.

“You blushed.” He stated, making you huff out a laugh.

“And? I would imagine if some pretty woman came up to you and whispered in your ear you would get flustered just the same.” You pointed out.

“So you think he’s handsome?” Azriel taunted and you had to resist the urge to smack him in the face with the pillow.

“Can we just…not talk about this? I don’t want to sleep with him.” You sighed, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t talked about potential love interests or hookups before, hell you were there for him through most of his Mor era, but he was being oddly pushy about this.

“Oh come on, Y/N, I’m just teasing.” He apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding, patting his arm lovingly while ignoring the tight muscles under your fingers. “It’s fine. I’m just on edge, I think I might hop in the bath unless you want to go first?”

An unknown emotion flashed through his eyes but was gone in a flash, his fists tightening by his side as he suddenly grew distant. “No, go ahead. I’ll get my bed on the floor ready.”

Part of you wanted to prod about this sudden change in demeanor but your body was begging for hot water and rest so you decided to table the discussion for later. He was turned away from you as you opened the door to the bathroom. It was as grand as the rest of the place, the main feature being a giant clawfoot tub that was big enough for at least four people.

The floors were even marbled with gold and there were mirrors everywhere. It felt like you were in one of those romance books that Nesta reads. You shoved the thought away while making sure the doors closed behind you, noting how the doors were almost see-through with a light frost being the only barrier.

“Every room in this place is probably designed for sex.” You muttered while turning one of the knobs, feeling the water between your fingers to ensure it was hot enough.

Making quick work of your clothes you tossed them behind you while climbing into the steaming tub, almost moaning at the delicious burn. You slid all the way down until your entire body was covered and relaxed. This was what heaven was like. You were sure of it.

You didn’t wash yet, wanting to enjoy the soak as you made a mental list of everything that needed to be done tomorrow. Those thoughts drifted to today and then eventually to what happened a few moments ago, Azriel’s mood change having you worried.

Did you say something wrong? Was he upset he had to sleep on the floor? Or about Helion? The last question made you laugh. Never in a million years would he be jealous of Helion, especially with you. He saw you as a friend, maybe even a sister, and nothing more.

Even if you wanted more…

No. No. You scowled as you reprimanded yourself for that thought. Azriel was your best friend and even if you had a crush on him, you weren’t going to entertain it. You weren’t even his type and he had literally every woman in Velaris in the palm of his hand. He could have anyone.

The thought stung, making you grab your bathing supplies to try and scrub them away. Your skin was raw by the time you were done and your heart was aching. It pissed you off, you had been doing so well in ignoring these feelings and yet you had allowed yourself to think he could be jealous, sending you right back into the pit again.

You stood and drained the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around yourself before walking back into the bedroom. Azriel had indeed made a spot for himself, extra sheets and blankets sprawled out by the balcony, but that’s not what caught your attention.

He had already stripped down to his leathers, chest bare and wings tucked in as he waited for you. The moon was just rising in the sky and the whole scene was like something out of your darkest dreams. You had to remind yourself to breathe as you looked everywhere but him.

“Bathroom’s free, have at it.” You mumbled with a white-knuckled grip on the towel. Azriel turned to you, surprised to see you out that fast, only to stop midstep. His eyes roamed your frame slowly, trailing the small beads of water that were still dripping down your leg as you fiddled with your pajamas.

There was a small grunt of acknowledgment before he stalked to the bathroom, almost slamming the door off its hinges as he shut it. You were just thankful for the silence, taking in a gulping breath while throwing your pajamas on as quickly as possible.

You could finally relax when you heard the water turn on, cursing under your breath as the image of him burned in your mind. The entire day had been fine until now, your body aching with need as your thoughts turned dirty.

It had been a while since you had sex with someone or yourself. You were busy with this or that, trying to catch up on sleep whenever possible, and feeling guilty when your thoughts drifted to a certain Illyrian who was currently bathing himself.

Surely you could allow yourself this small reprieve, right?

One of your hands ghosted down your chest as you imagined his large hands soaping up his arms, his chest, and his stomach. They would go down lower and lower until he got his cock, not being able to resist the urge to tease himself which would make him groan out.

Your panties were already wet when you got down to them, all rational thought being left at the door as you slid a single digit down your sex. It immediately had your back arching off the bed, the pad of your finger circling your clit to tease you just like Azriel was teasing himself.

The thought had you closing your eyes, wanting to lose yourself in the fantasy as much as you could. He would groan out your name, standing up to get a better angle as his nostrils flared. You could see the muscles of his neck tighten as he spat on his dick, fucking into his hand as he imagined it was you.

And just as he was doing that in your thoughts, you were starting to fuck yourself in return. Two of your fingers were thrusting in and out of you sloppily, the heel of your hand pressing on your clit as you rutted up, wishing it was Azriel’s cock instead.

You could already feel yourself getting close, and the man in your head was also. His wings were now flared out as he growled your name, head falling back as he spilled his seed into the air. A sharp intake of breath and you were on the edge, biting down so hard on your tongue to keep from calling out. It was within your grasp.

Until you heard the bathtub drain.

Shame traveled down your spine like ice water as you scrambled up to fix your appearance, wiping the wetness that coated your fingers beside you while your heart hammered in your chest. There was some rustling in the bathroom before the doors opened and Azriel emerged with a towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping from his head.

It took every fiber of your being to remain calm, looking up at him like you hadn’t just imagined him masturbating. You could have sworn he knew, his eyes dark as he looked around suspiciously.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes flickering down to the rumpled sheets around your waist.

“Never better.” You squeaked, clearing your throat immediately while clenching your thighs as tight as you could. “Was your bath good?”

“Never better.” He echoed back, grabbing his sleep clothes. You took the cue and turned away, rubbing a hand over your face to get a grip on your emotions. Azriel was the spymaster, he could read people like a book, and the last thing you wanted was for him to find out about this stupid crush.

“You ready?” His voice was dangerously low, and you almost snapped your neck looking back at him, face flushed.

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, swearing his tone was borderline suggestive, but any trace of that was nowhere to be found on his face.

“I said are you ready for bed?” Azriel clarified, bending down to fix his ‘bed’.

There was no way you were making it out tonight alive. He was going to give you a heart attack and send you straight to the Mother.

“Oh, uh, yes.” You faltered, reaching over to switch off the lamp. “Are you sure you’re okay sleeping on the floor? I don’t mind switching.”

Azriel just waved you off, mumbling something about the Illyrian camps before resting his head and closing his eyes. You watched him for a few seconds before settling in yourself, watching the curtains flutter in the night’s breeze and closing your eyes.

It had been two hours now and you had barely been able to close your eyes. Every time you did, you saw him there. He was haunting you twenty-four seven now while you tossed and turned for the hundredth time. You were begging for sleep to claim you but your body was more interested in the ache that still lie between your legs.

Azriel was asleep, or at least seemed like it, but you didn’t want to risk it. If he saw or heard you, it would mortify you. Both of your legs kept rubbing and pressing against each other to try and gain some friction but it was only making you tenser.

You huffed and threw the blankets off your body, welcoming the night chill as you quietly got up and tiptoed to the bathroom. A cold glass of water should help. You just needed to be silent so as not to wake him.

The water was a welcome distraction as you gulped it down greedily, placing the glass beside you before deciding to splash some on your face. It cooled your skin slightly but not enough for any real change.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice behind you made your jump and scream, your hand flying over your mouth as you whirled to face him. Azriel watched you with amusement as you gathered yourself from nearly being scared to death.

“Stars above, Az. Don’t sneak up on me like that.” You snapped while grabbing a towel to pat your face down. “Why are you awake?”

“You keep tossing and turning, then you got up. Just checking on you.” He said sincerely, licking his lips. “Bad dreams?”

Ha. If he only knew.

“No, fuck, I’m sorry.” You fumbled. “I didn’t mean to keep you up.”

He took a step towards you and gently grabbed your hand. You look into his eyes and almost melt at the concern, guilt eating you alive. “Talk to me, princess.” Azriel pressed, the heat coming from his body making it hard for you not to press up against him.

You wanted to tell him everything, confess your sins and rid yourself of these thoughts that were keeping you awake, but you couldn’t. It would be unbearable if he pushed you away. So, you lie.

“I’m just stressed, don’t worry. I promise I am fine.” It flew off your tongue with ease, but he wasn’t buying it.

The grip on your hand tightened as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

All you had to do was tell him your feelings, it was right there. Your pulse was fluttering under his fingertips as you take shallow breaths, trying to ground yourself.

“I-I can’t. I’m sorry.” You whispered, head bowing as you stared at the floor trying to will him to go back to bed. Maybe the two of you could pretend this never happened if he just let you go.

A finger pulled your chin up until you were staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes. He was a hairsbreadth away from your lips, both of your noses brushing against each other as the smell of him overwhelmed your sense.

“I heard you earlier…while I was in the bath.” Azriel confessed, voice dangerously low. “Who were you thinking of? Helion?”

“No.” You answered immediately, cheeks hot. “No, not Helion.”

Azriel’s shoulders seemed to relax at that, but the tension was still there, charging up like a lightning storm. He took another step which had your back hitting the sink, leaving you nowhere to run.

“Who?”

You swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly dry as you searched his eyes for any indication he was angry. However, he was as masked as always, leaving you nothing but your gut to go on.

“You know who.” You murmured, goosebumps rising on your skin as his other hand came to rest on your hip. His fingers were almost scalding hot as they dug in as if he was using all of his strength not to pounce.

“Say it.” Was his only reply, eyes never leaving yours. You felt lightheaded as all of the tension between the two of you finally came to a head, pupils blown wide as you breathed his name into the air.

“Azriel.”

His nostrils flared as he grasped your face and kissed you as you had never been kissed before, those scarred hands caressing your face as you melted into his arms. He groaned against your lips as you swiped your tongue across his own, opening for you so that you could deepen the kiss.

Both of your hands came up to the back of his head, grasping onto his hair while trying to pull him impossibly closer. You could swear your heart was going to burst out of your chest at what was happening, that fire returning to your body with the force of a thousand suns.

Suddenly his hands left your face to grab your hips, hoisting you onto the counter but making sure his mouth never left yours. You pulled away to catch your breath, eyeing the string of saliva that connected you, but Azriel had other ideas.

Those plush lips of his trailed across your face and onto your neck, sucking and biting as he pleased. Your nails scratched against the marble at the sensation, arching into his touch as he growled into your throat. He quickly found that spot behind your ear, the spot that had you moaning his name.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that from you.” He cooed into your ear, biting your earlobe, before continuing his journey down your neck.

The thought of him dreaming of this, of you, just as you did had your stomach filling with butterflies. You felt him stop at your pajama top and when you lifted your head to help him, a loud rip sounded out across the bathroom. Buttons flew every which way as the remains of your top fell to the floor.

Azriel paid no mind, cupping each breast in his hand while biting his lip. He glanced up at you, and you nodded, groaning when he pinched the pebbled nipples in between his fingers.

“Fuck.” You cried, closing your eyes as he took the left one into his mouth and lazily sucked. It could be your denied orgasm from earlier, but it felt as if every nerve was on fire.

You looked up in ecstasy as he switched, noticing the mirrors that also occupied the ceiling. He had you high on the counter and the sight of him devouring your breasts, wings slightly spread, had you coating the sink with your wetness.

He pulled away while taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal. It made him feel drunk, and when he followed your gaze, he couldn’t stop the feral grin from forming.

“Do you enjoy watching me play with you, princess?” He teased, pulling your forward until your ass was hanging off the counter. You blushed fiercely when you saw him watching you, but Azriel just clicked his tongue, lifting your hips so he could remove your panties and pants.

“Watch.” He ordered, one of his hands pressing you down onto the cool marble until you were flat. You felt him lift your legs over his shoulders, brushing against those massive wings, and when you lifted your head to watch him, he lightly slapped the inside of your thigh.

A small wince of pain flared up, but when he pointed up, you realized what he wanted you to do. You laid your head back down and watched from the mirror, seeing him grip your thighs and yank them apart.

His nose came to the folds of your cunt, and he breathed deep, growling at the scent before he dived into your slickness. You had no time to prepare yourself as a loud cry left your mouth, hips trying to rise up in pleasure. Azriel was relentless in his pace, licking and sucking on your clit like it was his favorite meal.

The mirror gave you more pleasure on top of what was already happening, watching the muscles along his back and arms move and tense as he moaned into your pussy. Your own hands came to grasp at your tits, tugging your nipples as two of his fingers nudged your entrance.

It was all happening so fast, but you were thankful for that, not wanting time to think about how this decision could affect things later on. He pulled himself away from your juices just as he thrust those fingers in, watching your face in the mirror as your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure.

“Please, please…” You whined, feeling your walls clench around him as he curled and scissored to his heart's content. Azriel’s face appeared above your own as he continued to fuck you with those long digits, taking in every reaction.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He snarled, his eyes incredibly dark as you started to approach the edge.

“I-just, please!” You gasped, grinding into his hand as he licked the taste of you off his lips. “I need to cum. Please, Azriel, please let me cum.”

He groaned in satisfaction from your words, speeding up while digging the heel of his palm into your clit. That plus your grinding had you right there, your eyes starting to roll back just as he whispered, “Good fucking girl, princess.”

Your voice went hoarse from your scream, his name and other profanities babbling out as you had the best orgasm of your life. Azriel’s hand never left your cunt as you quaked and shivered underneath him, his mouth biting down on your shoulder as you rode out your orgasm.

After you quieted down, he slowed his pace, the wetness making a wet squelching sound as you tried to regain control of your breathing. He withdrew his hand entirely after a few moments and lifted you from the counter, carrying you bridal style back into the bedroom and sitting you on the bed.

You sat up slowly just to watch him undo his bottoms, the moonlight casting a large shadow across the room. Azriel watched you with an insatiable hunger as they fell to the floor, grasping his cock in his hands.

It was big, the biggest you had ever had, and you felt drool collecting on the corner of your mouth. You crawled over to try to take him into your mouth, but he shook his head, grasping your throat while pulling you up to your knees.

“No, not tonight. I want to feel that cunt around me.” Azriel said, kissing you hungrily before laying you back down on the bed. It was soft underneath you, and when he climbed on top, those dark wings spread until it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world.

He wasted no time lining himself up with you, coating the head of his cock until it was soaked with your cum. You placed a hand on his chest right before he pushed in, pulling his face down so that you could kiss him once more.

Azriel sighed into the kiss and pressed himself into you inch by inch, cursing at the tightness and warmth of your pussy. You hissed at the stretch but didn’t dare ask him to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders as he bottomed out inside of you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely keeping it together. You nodded and he smiled, kissing you once more in a tender moment before he pulled out almost entirely and then thrust back in.

You gasped as he hit your cervix, nails digging into his skin as he set a slow, deep pace. His forehead pressed against yours as he shuddered into your chest, trying not to destroy you as the headboard creaked underneath his grip.

“Faster, Az.” You moaned into his ear, sucking the shallow part of his throat that had his resolve crumbling in seconds. He rose up on his knees, lifting your hips in his hands, and fucked you like he truly wanted to.

His balls were slapping against your ass at a brutal pace, but it had you losing your mind, the angle making him hit that sweet spot every single time. You cried out and tried to find something to hold onto as his lips curled back in feral delight, enjoying seeing you fucked out like this.

“Look at you, Y/N,” Azriel growled, his shadows curling over his shoulders as he started to lose himself in the sensation of you. “You’re taking me so well, so deep.”

A nod was your only response before he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, raising your ass high and reentering you with ease. You grabbed blindly at the pillow in front of you, but he was quicker, throwing it behind him with a dark laugh.

“Don’t hide those sounds from me, princess. I want to hear you say who’s doing this to you.”

One of his hands slapped your ass, kneading it in his hand as he threw his head back in ecstasy. He was close, and you were too, drunk on his cock as you moaned at his name. “Azriel is, you are, please-” You choked, feeling his cock twitch at your cries.

“I want you to cum with me, do you understand?” He groaned, feeling his balls tighten as you already started to clamp down on him. “I want you to scream my name for the entire court to hear.”

And with those few final thrusts, you obeyed without question, screaming at the top of your lungs as he filled you with his hot cum. You heard him call out your name as he finished inside you, hips stuttering as the grip on your hip tightened hard enough to bruise.

You felt the cum leaking out around his dick as he finally came down, your body so overstimulated that you practically collapsed on the bed. Azriel pulled out of you with a smirk, enjoying the way your hole tried to keep him inside before rolling over to your other side.

“Y/N?” He whispered, peeking over only to see you fast asleep.

His heart fluttered at the sight, something so domestic about it, as he got up and wiped you down, pulling your panties back up and tucking you in beside him. Azriel knew tomorrow would be full of talking and you trying to apologize, but for now, he just wanted to enjoy this moment with you in his arms.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #azriel #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel reader #azriel x reader smut #azriel reader smut #azriel x you #helion #acotar fandom

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revasserium · 10 months

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anon request: why they call it falling x osamu miya

126. why they call it falling

osamu; 1,078 words; fluff and the most fleeting of suggestive themes; really just a character study on the miya twins + reader as a conduit for character dev

he has always had someone who knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how he was feeling. because when god made twins (or so osamu thinks), they got really fucking lazy and probably just hit ctrl+v one too many times.

when he meets you for a first time, he wonders if this is what it felt like for a hurricane and a typhoon to finally learn about each other, the only difference between them being where they occur — only an entire ocean and half a world apart.

“i think… i met someone,” he says.

“i think… i’m done with volleyball after high school ends,” he says.

“i think you’re an idiot,” atsumu says.

“do you… think i’m an idiot?” osamu asks, sitting across from you on a summer evening, long after practice has been over, but the stickiness of the day still lingers on his skin. tsumu is still mad at him, but what else is new?

you regard him for a minute, pressing your lips into a soft, thin line as you stare out across the darkening horizon.

“no…” you say finally, looking down at your hands, loose in your lap. osamu looks down at his own hands, loose in his lap, his palms littered with calluses from all the hours of practice. all the hours of dreaming.

“i don’t think you’re an idiot.”

osamu smiles, nodding, “thanks…”

the truth is that it’s been way too long since he’s felt like the shadow of himself, or perhaps of someone else, and it’s been way too long since he’s really known what it felt like to do something with his whole entire soul and feel good about it. and that’s a kind of growing up too — so he learns — that’s a kind of changing.

“we wanted to be the best,” he admits, chuckling to himself, the thought of it now somehow ridiculous in a way that it’s never been to him before. he shakes his head and sighs, shaking our his bangs from his eyes as he casts his gaze up towards the first burgeoning stars.

“you still can — what’s stopping you?” you ask, your grin going lopsided in the way he likes. and when he looks back at you, he sees the world reflected in your eyes.

later that night, when he is making music of your body with his lips skimming a line along the sharp of your exposed collarbones, when his fingers are tugging you apart, when you are pushing back against him, pushing him back into the mattress of his own bed and atsumu is nowhere to be found (probably still sulking somewhere with the rest of the team), you pull back and smile at him — the lopsided smile he loves so much and he can’t help but lean up to kiss it from your lips.

and he feels it in his own body then, the years and years and years of his practice, the years and years and years of his hard work. him and his twin brother — the mirrored half of himself, the light to (perhaps) his shadow. ying and yang and all that slow, smooth jazz.

he grins too and kisses you. he kisses you hard and fast and he makes music of his own body then, too. because his body has long since been an instrument and he was born knowing how to play every single one of its notes.

“stay,” he says, after he’s had his fill of you, because a part of him knows that he’ll be just as hungry later.

“maybe,” you answer, even as you both hear his brother come home.

atsumu comes back to find both of you asleep, the sheets twisted over your very, very naked bodies. and a part of him wants to hate it but another part of him doesn’t. he can’t.

because this is what happens when a hurricane and a typhoon learn about each other for the very first time — they are so, so much the same thing, made different only by their times and places. but they are still just beating hearts and half-caught breaths — they are still just wind and rain and a tunnel between the sea and the never-ending sky.

“what are you gonna do?” atsumu asks, not looking at his twin.

osamu shrugs, “dunno… maybe i’ll make rice balls.”

“hn. you do make good riceballs.”

“i… i think i really like her, y’know.”

atsumu heaves a long, deep breath. he nods.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu grins, “right. of course you do.”

and the truth is that when god made twins, they probably hit ctrl+v one too many times, and they have always known things about each other that no one else will ever know or fully understand. like, the things that make them different, totally and inexplicably.

“he’s gonna be the best in the world,” osamu says, his eyes bright as twin stars as you sit next to him, the pair of you glued to the match on the tv screen. there’s an apron around samu’s waist and rice sticking to his fingers.

you almost laugh.

“he already is,” you say.

it takes three seconds of osamu to turn to you, his grin going lopsided as he watches you watch him.

“i — i think i love you.”

and you really do laugh this time.

“yeah. i know.”

osamu only rolls his eyes, goes back to pressing the musubi between his palms as the commercial break cuts to some curry commercial featuring an incredibly deadpanned kageyama. he packs the rice in tight and hands it to you.

“how’s it taste?”

you take your time savoring the flavor, grinning as you take another huge bite. the smile on osamu’s face spreads and spreads and spreads.

“like the best in the world,” you say, before shoving the whole thing into your mouth just to make osamu laugh.

“you’re… an idiot.”

you swallow hard and reach for a glass of water.

osamu catches your hand and presses his lips to the inside of your wrist, letting his lips linger there even as the commercial break ends.

“i know,” you say, nodding as you both turn back to the screen. the rice is warm and fresh and the nori is crispy and just the perfect amount of salty.

“yeah, i know."

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wheresarizona · 2 years

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Deeply Devoted

summary: It’s your first time on an ice planet, and Din didn’t warn you about the dangers of snow. Luckily, he knows just how to warm you up.

rating: E (18+!! Soft!Din Djarin, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, first kiss, love confessions, Din taking care of you, protective!Din Djarin, Din being a consent king, feelings, softness, blindfolds.)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!reader

word count: 2400+

a/n: A fic for my follower celebration for @secondalto, who requested Din Djarin and the prompt, “Stay here, and I'll run you a bath.” This one kind of took on a life of its own. Reader in this one was born and raised on a desert planet and has very little knowledge about snow/ice planets. I know I said I'd post Tuesday, but I was feeling it. Shoutout to @juletheghoul, who helped with ideas and is amazing. Thank you to @invisibleismyname for the beta!

Masterlist

You’d never seen snow.

It’d been fascinating, coming out of the Razor Crest to see the white wisps falling from the sky, the ground and everything surrounding it bright white. You’d also never been somewhere so cold, either, pulling your jacket closer to your chest, hugging yourself as Din led you through the snow-covered streets of the small town, people moving out of the Mandalorian’s way.

It always made you smile how he intimidated people without doing anything, when you knew he was actually very soft and sweet under all that shiny beskar.

You’d been traveling together for some months now, after he’d stopped on the desert planet you lived and grew up on for a hunt. You had been looking for a way off of the world without anyone knowing, your family having ties to some unsavory people that you wanted no part of, and since you happened to be a grown woman, taught at an early age ways around ship security without detection, you just broke into the Razor Crest while Din was gone, and stowed away.

Yes, sneaking up on a heavily armed Mandalorian was not a good idea.

But you’d been desperate.

Luckily, he hadn’t found you for hours, the ship on course through hyperspace. He’d pulled a blaster on you, which was expected, helmet tilted in confusion, demanding to know how you’d gotten on board, and you made sure he knew you weren’t a threat, and offered a substantial bag of credits for travel.

“I’m not a taxi. You’re off when we land.”

Except, you’d made yourself useful around the ship; helping him make the security better, cleaning, talking to him, and at some point, he’d decided he didn’t mind having you around and said you could stay on as a crew member.

You got to know each other, and feelings developed, one thing led to another, and eventually, the tension snapped. You found yourself bent over a crate, pants down your legs, cool beskar digging into the backs of your thighs with each push of his hips as he made you see stars. He’d told you his name while he was deep inside you, wanting to hear you say it when he made you come, and you’d said it, repeatedly.

That first time had been a couple of months ago, and you’d both jumped head first into the relationship. Din was sweet and devoted to you, and constantly showed you how much he cared; you were so unbelievably happy, giving him the same energy back. You hadn’t seen him without his helmet and understood his creed, he slept with it on, removing the rest of his armor so he could hold you close on the tiny cot at night, and you didn’t mind it one bit.

Now, Din was leading you through the cold streets to an inn, getting you a room. He was going on a hunt that would take an hour or two, and he wanted you to be cozy while you waited for him to return, and for the both of you to have an actual bed to sleep in—the fact he’d thought of such things made you feel all soft and gooey.

“Is it okay?” He’d asked when you’d entered your accommodations.

It wasn’t anything too spectacular, but contained the necessities you’d need—a bed and ‘fresher. You were surprised to see a bathtub, so used to only having access to showers.

You stood in front of him, leaning up to kiss his helmet.

“It’s perfect,” you smiled.

“Good.” He nodded.

“I am so excited about the bed.”

“We’ll sleep well.”

“Oh, I was thinking more space to do activities that didn’t require clothes. Don’t get me wrong, we make the cot work, but imagine all we could do on there.” You pointed with your thumb at the bed behind you.

You heard him clear his throat, the sound staticky from his modulator.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

You grinned.

“Now, you go catch your bounty, and I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

He pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” he said softly.

“I know,” you replied. “You’ll be thinking about the bed the entire time.”

“I’ll be thinking about you.”

You felt your chest get tight.

“I’ll be thinking about you, too.”

He moved to press his forehead against yours, hugging you against him. He said goodbye, and when he went to leave, he stood at the door, watching you for a moment like he was trying to imprint in his mind exactly how you looked before he left, and you’d smiled at him, wishing him luck before he left, the door swishing shut behind him.

You spent your time lying on the ridiculously comfortable bed, browsing the holonet on a datapad.

Your eyes kept moving to look out of the window, seeing the flurries falling from the sky, and you thought it might be fun to go look at the town and get a closer look at the snow.

You’d put on your jacket and headed for the outdoors.

You walked around, cold in what you were wearing but not unbearable, browsing shops until you came upon a little park, teenagers of various species bundled up tight, throwing wads of snow at each other. Something hit your arm, and you looked down to see the ice melting as it fell off you.

“Sorry!” One of them said.

You smiled.

“It’s okay. What are you playing?” You asked.

He gave you a funny look.

“It’s a snowball fight. You throw the balls of snow at each other. Wanna play?”

You weren’t too sure.

“What’s the objective?” You asked.

“To try and hit people. It’s fun! Join us. Just scoop up the snow like this and use your hands to make it into a ball.”

It seemed easy enough.

You bent over, getting some into your bare hands and doing what was instructed.

“And throw it!” He said.

You aimed it at him and threw it, him laughing when he dodged.

You played with the teens, your hands going numb and teeth chattering. Your jacket had started soaking through, and even with all of the running, you were beginning to feel the cold seeping into your skin, you’d need to head back inside soon.

All the kids froze, staring past you with wide eyes, and you turned to see what was wrong.

Din was walking purposely towards you, long strides, to get to you as quickly as possible.

“What are you doing?” He asked, worry in his tone.

You frowned.

“Having fun?” Your words stuttered from your jaw moving involuntarily as you showed him the snowball in your hand.

He was in your space, plucking it from you and tossing it, grabbing your hands to inspect them.

“You’re freezing,” he said.

He rubbed his gloved hands over yours as you shivered.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to get frostbite. Let’s go,” he said, brokering no room for argument.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, just pulled you along by the wrist in a hurry.

“I’m okay,” you said.

He grunted in response, making you frown.

“What’s frostbite?”

“Something that happens when your skin is exposed to extreme cold.”

Your eyes went wide.

“Is it bad?” You asked.

“Yes.”

You looked at your free hand, seeing the wrinkled skin, it tingling uncomfortably, like pins and needles. Coming outside had not been your best decision, you were realizing. Nights in the desert got pretty cold, but you could get by in just a jacket—all of the planets you’d traveled to, just that outerwear had been fine. You should have gathered you weren’t dressed appropriately by how many layers the others had been wearing and their gloves.

When you made it back to the room, Din was immediately removing your jacket from your body.

“Strip,” he said.

“What?” Your teeth chattered.

“Get naked.”

“Why?”

He sighed.

“Stay here, and I'll run you a bath,” he said in a gentle tone. “Take off your clothes.”

“A bath?”

“We need to warm you up so you don’t get sick.”

You could hear how worried he was.

“Okay,” you nodded.

Din couldn’t help himself, pulling you into his arms, and squeezing you tightly, the beskar cold against you, making you hiss.

He pulled back immediately, “Sorry,” he said, hands holding onto your arms as his t-visor tilted to look you in the eye.

You smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay,” you said.

He sighed.

“I’ll let you know when the bath is ready.”

You nodded, and saw him hesitate.

“You can kiss me,” you said, referring to the way he pressed his helmeted forehead to yours—his way of ‘kissing’ you.

He did just that, leaning in, his helmet touching you for a few seconds, before pulling back.

“Give me a few minutes,” his voice was soft.

“Sounds good.”

He left you, heading into the ‘fresher and you heard the sound of water as you quickly removed your clothes and boots, hugging your arms against your naked chest as you shivered uncontrollably.

Din called your name, and you went, him ushering you to the bath and helping you into the hot water.

He was crouched at the side of the tub, his gloved hand stroking your cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly.

“Okay.”

You were incredibly comfortable under the water, your body warming up and making the feeling come back to your appendages. Din left the room, and you heard rustling, and minutes later, he was walking back towards you in nothing but his helmet.

Your mouth fell open as you took him in, admiring his broad shoulders and chest, his belly that had slightly softened with age, the visible silvered scars scattered on his flesh, and that tantalizing trail of hair that went down and down, your eyes following until they were between his legs, making you gulp. You’d seen him in different states of dress but never entirely naked, and you were drinking him in, mapping out every piece of golden flesh until he was beside the tub.

“Scoot forward,” he said, and you followed his order, Din stepping into the water and sinking down behind you, water sloshing as his legs stretched on either side of yours, his arms wrapping around your torso, pulling you flush against his front.

You leaned your head back against his chest and closed your eyes, smiling as he held you. You were content, happy, the chattering had stopped, and your body relaxed, melting into him.

It was minutes of silence while your body warmed, Din holding you, until he finally spoke.

“You weren’t here,” he said softly, squeezing you a little tighter.

“What?” You breathed.

“When I left, you said you’d be waiting when I returned. I…,” You felt his chest move as he took in a deep breath. “I thought you left.”

You frowned deeply, eyes flying open.

“Left? Like off-planet? Like left you?”

“Yes.” You could hear the sadness, and your heart clenched.

“Din, I’d never. I lo—care about you deeply. I’d never leave you; the thought has never once crossed my mind.”

“Are you… happy?” He asked.

“More than I’ve ever been in my entire life,” you answered truthfully.

“I feel the same,” he said.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m glad I found you when I did.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be.” He sighed. “I should have warned you and told you to stay in the room.”

“I just wanted to see more of the snow.”

“My sweet desert girl, almost catching her death from seeing snow for the first time.”

You snorted.

“It’s just so pretty.”

“We’ll get you the right clothes,” he said assuredly.

“I’d like that,” you smiled.

“Can you close your eyes?”

Your eyebrows creased.

“Yes?”

“Okay, close them,” he said.

You did what he said, Din moving behind you, feeling him lean over the side of the tub, and the sound of something set down.

“Keep them closed,” his voice was no longer modulated, and you sucked in a breath. “I’m going to touch you and cover your eyes. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

Fabric was placed over your eyes, a thin washcloth material from the feel of it.

“Lean forward.”

You moved, feeling him tie it securely to the back of your head.

“Does it feel loose at all?” He asked.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Turn around.”

You moved quickly, the water disturbed as you turned around, straddling his thighs, your hands carefully feeling his chest and moving up to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Hi,” he said softly, and you felt his breath close to your lips.

“Hi,” you replied.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, having an idea of what was about to happen.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I hoped you would.”

He chuckled, and the sound was warmer without the helmet and made a tingle move down your spine.

His big hands moved up your back, wrapping an arm around you, while a hand rested on the back of your head.

Lips brushed against yours, softly, tentatively, and you pressed harder into him. A surprised sound came out of your throat when you felt a mustache tickle your lip. You could tell he’d never done this before, and you led him, showed him, and you moaned when he’d licked across your bottom lip, happily letting him deepen the kiss. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, the kisses getting more urgent, Din figuring out quickly what to do. Your body was thrumming, core aching, wanting him desperately.

You broke the kiss panting.

“I need,” you gasped. “I need.”

“Anything,” he rasped.

“I need you.”

He groaned, hands grabbing your ass, lifting you while you moved a hand down to wrap around his length, hot and hard in your palm as you positioned him at your entrance, and started sinking down on him slowly, both of you moaning as he filled you, stretching you open.

You’d never tire of the way he felt inside you—how full you felt, the way it knocked the breath from your lungs when you bottomed out.

You both were feeling something, the emotions taking over, all of the trust and care, the way deep down you knew there would never be anyone else, that he was it for you, and you were it for him, everything came bubbling to the surface, and things got frantic.

You started working yourself on him, his hands helping you move as your mouths crashed together, tongues sliding against one another like you were trying to consume as much of the other as possible. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, surprised at the softness of the thick strands, bodies working together, feeling that familiar pull in your belly winding tighter, everything spurring you higher and higher, the rough sounds of his grunts coming out of his throat.

The coarse hair at the base of his cock was rubbing deliciously against your clit, the added stimulation rocketing you towards your high, and when it happened, when the tension in your body snapped and fell over the edge, it was with his name tumbling from your lips as he swallowed the sound, groaning as you clenched around him. He fell with you, holding you down against him, a rumbling sound vibrating against your chest as you felt him spill deep inside you, your kisses becoming languid until it was just panted breaths against each other's lips, coming down from your highs.

“I love you,” he whispered.

A smile spread across your lips.

“I love you, too, and I’ll never leave you. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

“Then marry me.”

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be tagged in future fics, I have a link to my taglist form in my bio or on my masterlist, or you can just let me know!

Tagging: @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @spanishmossmagnolia @star017 @javier-penas-wife @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @lalalalemonade11 @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride @loonymagizoologist @pinebeam @spacenerdpascal @padbrookcottage @karlawithacapitalk @trickstersp8 @that-friend-in-the-corner @iamskyereads @pedroswh0r3 @astravoyager @beskarprincessjenny @beecastle @manuymesut @alexxavicry @tiredbuthappy

#pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes #wheresarizonas follower celebration

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lewisyellowhelmet · 2 years

Note

Forehead kisses/head kisses are Lewis' thing change my mind

he loves to show u how much he loves u !!!! (18+)

When you’ve stopped crying, Lewis uses the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe your face, the fabric soft on your raw cheeks.

“There you go,” he says, squeezes the curve of your shoulder, moves his hand up to knuckle away the last clinging tears on your eyelashes. The cloth of his t-shirt is damp now and sticking to his belly.

“Sorry,” you say, voice wobbling, not wanting to look at him. Now that the clogging panic of crying has passed, you feel suddenly embarrassed, the blush hot on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he soothes, presses his mouth to your temple, his lips gentle, lingering. His big hands hold you against his body, so you can pace your breathing to his.

“No harm done,” he says, when he lifts his head, gives your hips a little squeeze to make you cringe away from the tickle, laugh without meaning too. He grins at the sound.

ii.

“You’re taking it so well,” Lewis says, his voice a rasp. You keen, turning your face into the pillow. He has your legs folded up under his chest, your arms looped around his neck as he drives into you, the weight of his body pushing him deeper and deeper. You can feel yourself smiling from the overwhelming good of it, the way the feeling of him fucking you overwhelms, takes you somewhere else.

“So good for me,” Lewis says, his mouth by your ear, and you cry out, rolling your head to press your cheek to his, the scruff of his beard. He takes your face in his hands, fingers curving along your jaw. He’s panting, eyes flashing, mouth bitten red and swollen.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper, wide eyed, and he laughs, a pleased, breathless thing. Moves his mouth over your face to kiss your forehead, messy and wet. You hide your nose in his jaw, cling onto him, let him fuck you into delirium.

iii.

Over Lewis’ shoulder, you can see yourself on the television, the Sky camera managing to find the two of you in the garage, ten minutes before lights out. Lewis needs to get onto the track for the national anthem. He’s chewing gum, one AirPod in, his race suit loose around his waist.

“Be safe,” you say, pulling your eyes from the television and the invasion of privacy to look at his face, beloved, hold it in your hands. He smiles, and you can see the unrelenting excitement, even after all this time, over three hundred races.

“I love you,” you tell him, run your thumb over his bottom lip before you let go of him, painful every time.

“I love you,” he repeats, and takes your head in his heads, bowing it so he can kiss your hair, hold you close against his body for a moment. Outside, cars are revving, engineers are running back and forth, and you’re half aware of the cameras, capturing this quiet moment for just you and him, stealing it. But you can ignore it, lean into him, let him kiss your head and tell you he loves you.

iv.

“One for you,” Lewis says, kisses the forehead of the giggling toddler on your hip, a matching Mercedes cap to the one her Daddy is wearing, holding her curls back.

“And one for you,” he says, bends to kiss the swell of your pregnant belly, and you can feel him smiling.

“And lucky last, one for you,” he says, slips his hand into your hair to kiss your forehead, finally, lingers a moment too long. You can smell the sweat and fuel and joy on him. He’s still smiling when he stands back, people calling for him. The podium is ready. If you speak, you’ll cry, so you just grin back at him and know he gets it, watch him walk up to take the first place trophy.

“Fuck,” Lewis says, the sound long and delicious from his mouth. His head is thrown back against the headboard, a crush of white pillows under his back. You rise up again in his lap, fuck yourself back down onto him, hands braced on his chest. The lion roars under your fingers. Powerful beyond measure. His mouth is hanging open, so you can see the white points of his teeth, the pink of his tongue. His eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering as you grind down onto him.

“You like that?” You ask, getting into a rhythm, bouncing in his lap. You can feel his thighs tight under you as he tries to hold it together. His big hands are on your ass, helping you lift yourself up each time. Lewis manages to get his eyes open, liquid and dark as they watch you take him.

“I love it,” he says, takes your face in his hands, kisses you all over, your cheeks, your nose, until you’re laughing, and he can kiss the sound out of your mouth.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #*

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transmurderbug · 4 months

Text

🍂Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🍂

Look at me going at it after being AWOL for like a month. 👀 Thank you Nosho @creepkinginc, Becki @francesrose3, Jess @jrooc, Kaka @stocious and Willow @ian-galagher for the tags! 🥰

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

(stealing Willow's format, because it's pretty and neat)

Name: Sky

Location: In a cave, underneath a pretty rock somewhere. 🪨

And now for the randomness! tell me your most and least favorites of: (brave to assume I'll be able to choose just one...)

Candy?

Most - I've always like sour Haribo of all kinds. Also any candy or chocolate bars. Least - The very soft, cotton like gummies (gumdrop?)

Seasons?

Most - Autumn where it's not cold yet, but everything's pretty. Also snowy winter. Least - That very ugly time when autumn is turning into winter and everything is sad.

Hot beverage?

Most - Cocoa or hot chocolate. Least - Green tea.

Cold beverage?

Most - Most sodas and coffee (I drink cold coffee even if it's freezing) Least - Tonic. Blah.

Colours?

Most - Black, blue, green and orange. Least - Pink.

Vegetables?

Most - I will devour any vegetable and I love them with all my heart as long as they are raw. (I'd also say tomatoes, because they are one of the best things ever, but they're technically a fruit. Also potatoes - raw - but they aren't vegetables either. They deserve the honorable mention though) Least - Most if they are cooked/baked/went through any kind of heat treatment. But mostly spinach.

Traditional foods from your country?

Most - Oh wow. We have so many and I love most. But maybe... lángos, chitterling-sausage, kürtőskalács, pig feet stew - okay I have to stop, but I have so many more. I need to put together a list... Least - We have a chitterling that's made with liver. I never liked those. Or stuffed cabbage.

Insects?

Most - Okay, now hear me out. Any insect is instantly my best friend, so I can't just choose one... All the bugs, that's for sure and other than that... I find dragonflies to be quite pretty. Least - These are all context specific, but... I'm seconding Nosho with the midges. Also the small, bitey flies and most gadflies (painful as heck if they bite/sting) that will absolutely devour everything and everyone during the summer.

Cake flavours?

Most - Any fruit, chocolate, coffee and lemon. Least - Anything made with cottage cheese.

Non-gallagher or milkovich shameless characters?

Most - V, maybe Kev. I also liked Sue. Least - Sammi. Caleb. The usual ones. (Also stealing Willow's thought, because as entertaining as Paula was, damn her)

These questions proved how incapable I am of choosing just one "most". But oh well. Keeping it interesting.

Tagging a few awesome people, because I'm miraculously on time. Hop in or have this cookie: 🍪

@transmickey @spacerockwriting @dynamic-power @deathclassic @juliakayyy @look-i-love-u @energievie @palepinkgoat @heymrspatel @suzy-queued @gardenerian @darlingian @ifallonblackdays @swiftfootedachilles @krysmiss @meagaboooo and anybody else who wants to play

#tag game #weekly tag wednesday #weekly tag games #I'm so bad at choosing stuff #but so many good things #also don't expect me to choose a favorite insect I am incapable of doing that

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boliv-jenta · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller x f!reader

WC:3.2k

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Sex work. Unprotected sex. P in V sex.

Author note: This has sat in my docs since episode one. I wasn't feeling it. I haven't edited it. It might help tide someone over until season two though.

I Put a Spell on You

The whisky and pills weren't cutting it anymore. The second he stopped working, stopped pushing forward and closed his eyes, there she was. Sarah. He could see every freckle. The tiny parts of her that looked like him. He could feel the weight of her in his arms. Smell the strawberry shampoo she used. He could feel her arms around him, clinging on as they ran. Then he could feel her blood on his hands.

He pushed through it, worked harder, worked until he felt like dropping. Until the last of his energy carried him to bed to a restless sleep.

That's when he began searching for something more. Something to completely knock him out. While doing a trade on the far side of the QZ, he heard about it. A woman. He didn't get a name. The locals called her The Witch. Some of the less polite ones called her a whore. From what Joel could tell both could apply. Joel made contact through a third party,a guard that owed him a favour. She responded with her fee. Joel now held it in his hands, as he waited for her to answer. As the seconds passed his senses returned to him. What the hell was he doing here? Was he really going to see a witch to help him? Thinking better of it he turned to leave, then he turned back, a slither of guilt urging him to leave her fee for wasting her time.

As he knelt down to place it on her door mat, the door opened. Lengths of white satin swished around bare legs as she stepped around the door. Joel's eyes scanned upwards, taking in the whimsical change in the colour of her dress. Around thigh height it began to turn purple the colour got stronger the higher his gaze went. Until the deep purple was complemented by an amethyst crystal pendant resting in her cleavage. Beyond that he saw her face. With some of the services she offered he assumed she would be older. If he had to guess, he'd say she was around the age he was before the world went to shit. Maybe younger, it was hard to tell with the smile on her face, it was so bright and carefree. She didn't look as aged as the people walking the street with the weight of the end of the world on their heads.

"You okay down there?" She asked, amusement evident in her tone.

Suddenly, Joel Miller, a man that had talked his way out of more trouble that he could ever recall, was lost for words.

"Joel, right? Come on in." She moved back in the apartment.

A light floral scent welcomed him as Joel followed her into her home. For the QZ it was surprisingly nice. It was brightly decorated. Soft furnishings and calming art pieces added colour. Having the penthouse afforded her enough privacy that she could keep the windows uncovered. The sunlight flooded in, warming the space even further. Being in one of the tallest surviving buildings meant her view was mainly sky. For a moment, Joel could imagine himself standing somewhere else entirely.

"Would you like some tea before we begin?" She spoke softly.

"I was never much of a tea drinker, but thank you." Something about her made Joel remember his manners.

"Ah, a coffee man. I have that too." She smiled at him. "I'm not sure if will be helpful or not but if it makes you happy."

She made him a cup, bringing it over with her own cup. "Your contact said you wanted help sleeping."

"Yeah. I heard you could help with that." Joel felt a nervousness that he hadn't in years.

"Did they tell you how I could help?" She queried.

"Not exactly. They said that you were a…"Joel caught himself.

"A witch? Baba Yaga? A lady of the night?" She grinned at him.

"Yeah." He laughed, a blush at his cheeks. "Just so we are clear. I offer herbal medicines, relaxation coaching, massage techniques. For a very select clientele, I offered intimate massage and sexual services."

"Very select?"

"Just for the ones I find attractive."

"So what services can you offer me?"

"You?" She looked him up and down, enjoying every second that she took him in. "All of them."

Joel felt an odd swell of pride. It had been a long time since he had been deemed worthy of something other than mere survival.

"We'll start with some simple breathing techniques. We'll get comfortable in each other's spaces then we can talk about my other services."

Joel should feel stupid. A grown man sat criss-cross applesauce on the floor, humming whatever tune came into his head as she instructed. Somehow he didn't. She just made him feel comfortable.

"The humming with help stimulate your vagus nerve. It promotes relaxation. I can help you stimulate it too if you like?"

Joel simple nodded at her question.

She came to sit behind him, her soft hand working under the collar of his shirt to knead the muscles at the bottom of his neck. Her touch against his skin sent a shiver down his spine. His cock swelling in his jeans made him shuffle to get comfortable.

"You can take your clothes off it you would feel more comfortable. I can take mine off too, if you like?"

"I'd like that." Joel managed to croak out. Now that was embarrassing, a grown man sounding like a horny, hormonal teen. He could hear the rustling of material behind him. Then she was at his back again. Closer this time. He could feel her warmth as her breasts pressed into his back as she leaned into him. Her head resting on his shoulder. Instinctively, he cupped her cheek to keep her there. Joel hadn't felt softness like it in such a long time. He fucked when he needed but being truly intimate with someone that was something his mind didn't even entertain. Her lips pressed to his palm.

"I'm here, Joel. We're safe here. Let me take care of you." With that she began to strip his shirt off of his shoulders. As the material rolled down his body she pressed soft kisses to each new piece of skin. When they were both bare, she lead him up onto the bed. With her sitting facing him, cross legged and naked, Joel didn't quite know where to look.

"Look at me, Handsome. We're going to begin with eye gazing. We look into each other's eyes. It might feel uncomfortable at first but I want to create a connection between us."

"That wasn't the type of connecting I was thinking was going to happen." Joel quipped.

The laughter that peeled out of her was beautiful. Her eyes shone with it, it made it easier for him to look deep into them watching the amusement dance in them.

"Here. Put your hand over my heart." Taking his hand she settled it over her breast. Then she mirrored his position, her hand on his firm chest. Next, she covered his hand with hers and told him to do the same with hers. They sat there quietly feeling each breath the other took. Joel was startled by how imitate the whole thing felt. He leaned into the warmth and comfort he let go of the fact that he was paying her and let himself fantasise that the beautiful young woman in front of him was his, his love, his safe space. Something he could no longer indulge in. How could he allow himself to love when he knew how badly it hurt to lose it.

"Can I touch you?" The words came from his mouth as if someone else spoke them.

"Of course. I'll let you know if you do something I don't like. I trust you to stop when I say." She stroked his cheek as she spoke. Her fingertips dragging across his salt and pepper stubble caused a pleasant tingle. Her fingers threaded into his hair lightly tugging to pull him close.

"Are you okay with kissing?" She asked almost against his lips. He hadn't even thought about kissing. He wasn't sure if it would be on the table. He nodded.

"Words, Joel." She prompted.

"Yes. Kissing is okay." The way her lips gently moulded to his broke something in him. He didn't realise how much he'd missed tenderness. There was a time when his hands provide pleasure and comfort not just pain and death. He melted in her kiss as she massaged his scalp. Oddly, his body felt heavier as he released his burdens. Feeling the shift in his body, she move to the side, encouraging him to lay down. He let her guide him onto his back.

"Give me one minute." She hopped up off the bed. The spring in her step was refreshing. His eyes roamed over her curves. Her soft skin. She really was beautiful. He wondered what her story was. Almost selfishly he blinked the thought away. He didn't want to acknowledge anything outside of this room. When she returned she held a small silver jug.

"What's that? Witch's brew?" Joel final regained enough of his wits to make a joke.

"Oh yeah. This one turns you into putty in my hands." She tipped the jug. Joel grasped as the warm liquid hit his chest. His nipples harden and his cock twitched at the sensation. Holding the jug over her own chest, she poured the liquid over herself. Joel had no idea what she was covering them in but he hoped it was editable so he could lick it from her breasts. Setting the jug down she began to spread the liquid over his chest and down his arms. Slowly, she began massage every inch of him. Every inch softened under her touch. Only his cock remained rock hard as she worked her hands over him.

"Would you like me to make you cum?"

"Please." God, how that came out as a genuine plea.

Her slick fingers wrapped firmly around his girth. In under a minute he was on the verge of spilling his load.

"Wait, wait, wait." He panted. "I don't want to, not yet."

"I bet you have another one in you for me. You just enjoy, Baby." She moved her hand in firm strokes once more.

When didn't stop her she coaxed his release. "Come on, Joel. Let go. I want to see it. I bet you're so sexy when you cum."

Her praise provoked something in him. He wanted more of it. He wanted to be worthy of her honeyed words. His cum soon mixed with the oil on her hands and his stomach.

"Mmm. I was right." She kissed him playfully. Another thing that Joel had missed, idle playfulness.

Grabbing a towel she cleaned him off. Normally, cumming that hard was enough to drop him. Right now he had more energy that he'd had in weeks. He felt like he could be ready to take her in minutes. Arousal already stirred at the base of his cock. He should be sated yet he was even more hungry for her. Sitting up he kissed her before trying to take control. He wanted to make her feel good. A woman like her deserved to feel good.

"Nuh-uh. You just lay back."

"I want to see you cum. I bet you're so sexy when you come." He nipped at her lips as he mocked her.

Pushing him back down, she braced her hands on her chest as she straddled his thigh. The oil made it easy for her to slide along his thigh. The coarse hair dusting his legs and the firmness of his muscles pushed her closer to climax with each sweep of her hips. Joel watched transfixed as his thigh grew wetter. As her moans grew loader. As she completely lost herself. She was free in the moment. Joel was used to people taking what they wanted, he'd been on both sides of it. He wasn't used to being done for anything but survival or greed. Seeing her chase her happiness, using him to provide it, a different sense of purpose filled him.

He started to wonder if she really was a witch with the way he was under he spell. He was transfixed by every little micro expression as she enjoyed herself. By the time she came on his thigh, he was just as undone as she was. He was near feral as he surged up to catch her lips.

"Easy." She smiled against his lips. "Cross your legs like before."

Doing as he was told, he rested his hands on her hips as she straddled him. Taking his length in her hand, she notched him at her entrance. Just the promise of her warmth around her had him throbbing. Their breaths mingled as she slowly dropped down on him. His hips itched to surge upwards, the position they were in wouldn't really allow for it. She felt his body chasing hers.

"We're just going to take things slow. We have all night."

"I think you're giving an old man too much credit."

"An old man in incredible shape." Her hand wrapped around his taunt bicep. Leaning back, he changed the angle of him inside her, rolling her hips, she sighed happily.

The sight of her made Joel even less confident that he could go all night. Even if he could distract himself from the feeling of her perfect wet heat clutching him, just looking at her was enough to make him feel like cumming.

"Fuck. If you keep arching those pretty tits in my face while you ride me like that, I won't last long."

"When you get close to cumming, tell me. Give me a number from one to ten. Ten being ready to blow." If she kept talking like that he would blow. "Number?"

Joel took a moment to calm his mind. He purged it of thoughts of how it would feel to fill her. To see his spend dripping out of her thoroughly fucked pussy. He thought about how his body felt instead. "Eight."

"Good. When that number gets higher you let me know."

The way he was able to drop his guard and relinquish control to her pushed him towards nine. Her pace was slow and steady. She rose up squeezing every inch of him until the tip was barely inside her then sunk down achingly slow. Joel hadn't had sex this unhurried in over two decades. He savoured every stroke. He was able to fully be the moment with her.

"Nine." He grunted. Her hips sped up. "Fuck. No, don't. I'm…" Coming to a complete halt she rose off of him. Her hand wrapped around the tip of his length. Squeezing tightly until his approaching climax was abated.

Pressing little kisses around his hairline, she waited patiently for his breathing to slow right down before she resumed riding him slowly.

"So that's your game? You're going to tease an old man to death. Pick my stuff clean to sell. Nice little side…ah…hustle. Fuck."

"That wouldn't be a gr-great way to get return customers. Oh, god. I-I'll wait until until I get a few more payments before I fuck you to de..oh..death."

"It might be my turn to question your stamina. Shit. You feel pretty close to me."

"The difference if I can cum and keep going."

"Well, in that case." Joel's thick fingers worked their way between them. With his usual level of competence, he had her muscles convulsing around her.

The feel of her was incredible, he almost didn't tell her his number. He wanted he to carry on pulling him in deeper. "Nine." He eventually groaned.

Even with her limbs still trembling she rose off him and delayed his orgasm again. "Jesus, Darlin'!" His tongue coming out to wet his lips as he panted threw her off. The incredible luxury of only sleeping with clients she was attracted to had its downsides. Sometimes she wanted them to stick around. For them to share more than just their bodies. Joel brought this urge out in her more than anyone ever had. Aside from being incredibly attractive he had a way about him. Confident without being arrogant. A steady reassuring presence with a vein of softness. All of it was very appealing. As much as she wanted to stretch things out to build his climax until the wave of it pulled him under and washed away his stress leaving him floating free. She also couldn't wait to feel him cum inside of her. They hadn't discussed it but he she figured he wanted that. It was one of the special services that she offered. Not being able to get pregnant was a big draw. Still it wasn't without its risks. That was the other stipulation with her clients. As well as being attracted to them they had to be clean. FEDRA didn't give a shit about most people. They'd given up on a cure. They did however screen some people regularly for any signs that the virus could have mutated. This included a full medical screening. A list one of your contacts had access to. Which she exchanged for 'the best hour of her month'.

Once Joel had calmed down, she started to ride him again. Greedily this time. The stretch of him, the depth of him striking her inside, it was all so good.

"Uncross your legs, Joel." Once he was laid flat, she rode him even harder.

"Fuck. Nine!"

"I know. I know. Cum for me. Let go."

"Can I…can I cum inside you? It's safe, right?" Joel had heard about the service she offered. Something primal inside him wanted it. There was no way he would ever risk it normally but he had guarantees. One of his contacts had access to your medical files.

"Yes. I want you to Joel. I want to feel you."

With that he was gone. This orgasm was longer than he'd ever felt. After the first sudden release of pressure, coupled with overwhelming ecstasy, waves of pleasure rolled through him. Each one washing away his ability to think coherently. Until he was finally taken by a deep, dreamless sleep.

Joel had barely pulled out of her when he'd started to drift off. Once he was asleep she quickly pressed a plug inside of her to catch his release. He looked so handsome, she took a moment to admire him before slipping away to her bedroom. Quickly, she lay down a towel and grabbed her camera. Spreading her legs wide she removed the plug and took a picture of his cum dripping out of her. Another way for her to make ends meet. One that allowed to be choosy about her clients. She could trade the pictures for a lot of things. Even at the end of the world, sex still sold. Her cunt twitched at the sight of Joel's cum coating her still wanting hole. It lubed up her fingers as she pumped them in and out until she found her own release again. Joel's name on her tongue and thoughts of him fucking her roughly filling her head. She couldn't resist sucking them clean when she was done. The taste of them mixed together was intoxicating. For a brief second, she hoped Joel would visit again. That was the exact moment she knew he never could. With all the loss she'd already experienced. Inviting a man like Joel Miller into her life was the perfect spell for heartache.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #hbo tlou #joel miller #joel miller smut

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mactavishwritings · 1 year

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hello your doing really well i’m proud, u said u wanted more poly things to write so i came up with in idea in this amazing brain of mine, idno if it’s poly but it includes more than 2 ppl. but like imagine soap and ghost and the reader are in a mission they end up in a safe house and it’s cold and snowing so they have to keep warm so they cuddle and the reader ends up in the middle and they get flustered cuz all they can see is muscles and they notice and they calm her and it turns into smut, kinda classic they end up in a safe house in the cold but oh well, remember your doing amazing if you think no one cares i do x

thank you my love, your words are very sweet <3

GIVE ME MORE POLY PLEASE I LOVE THIS SHITTTTT

anyway nsfw 18+ Ghost and Soap x reader poly smut <3

smut contains: temperature play, double penetration, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, blow jobs, fingering, pet names, power dynamics (top!ghost, switch!soap, bottom!reader), marking (biting + hickies)

Russia was cold. The snow whipped around in the sky as the three of you drove to the safe house. The mission got put on pause by Price back at the base, so he directed you all to the safe house until further instruction.

The sun had set three hours ago, leaving you shivering more. Your big winter jacket was wrapped around you tightly. You sat in between Soap and Ghost, the two men sitting close to you to suck whatever warmth you had for themselves selfishly. Ghost pulled up to the safe house and parked.

Soap helped you out of the car and Ghost opened the door for you two. You stepped into safe house, feeling the cold settle into your bones. "Fuck this. I wanna go somewhere warm for once." You whined, flopping onto the couch. You took off your vest and threw it on the floor. Soap stretched, his vest following yours. Ghost looked around for any source of heat.

"I hear ya, hen. Scootch." Soap sat down next to you as you lifted your legs, resting them on Soap's lap. Ghost took off his vest and sighed. "Sorry guys, but it looks like we're gonna have to bundle up and use a lot of blankets. Looks like no heat." Ghost went over to a trunk and pulled out as many blankets as he could carry.

He brought them over to you two and dropped them on top of you. You let out a soft 'oof' and grabbed them, hogging them for yourself. Ghost sat down next to you and pulled you against his side. Soap spread out the blankets, pushing himself up against your other side. You hummed happily, feeling yourself already starting to regain feeling in your toes.

You rested one hand on Ghost's chest and the other wrapped around Soap's bicep. You felt your body start to heat up, feeling their muscles flex and pull under your hands. Your fingers flexed, nails slightly digging into Soap's bicep. You shifted against the two men, trying to get comfortable in the small space between the two giants.

Soap and Ghost looked at each other before looking down at you. They watched as your thighs squeezed together, feeling your hands subconsciously rub their chest and arms. Soap slowly wrapped his arm around you, slightly turning you towards him and against Ghost's back. Ghost nodded at Soap, turning himself to match your movements.

You watched Soap with wide eyes, hands wrapped tight around his arms. He moved onto his knee and one of his hands came to rest on your waist. "You're getting all worked up, pretty girl. Got yourself all flustered over a little touch?" Soap whispered to you and your mouth dropped slightly.

"Answer him, pet." Ghost leaned down to whisper in your ear and it sent shockwaves through your body. You felt yourself nod, eyes locked on Soap and his movements. Ghost's hand moved to cup your chin, tilting your head back. "I said answer him. With words."

"Yes." Your answer was immediate, eyes moving to look at Ghost. His mask was still on, but it was lifted up to his nose. His lips were exposed and you could see a small scar on his top lip. You desperately wanted to run your fingers over it; to kiss it.

Soap leaned down, lips barely an inch from yours. "Yes, what? We're still your superiors, doll." You could feel the heat radiating off his body. It could probably melt the snow outside; it was already causing a puddle in your underwear. Ghost's arm snuck around your middle and Soap's hand moved down towards your legs.

"Yes, sir."

Your brain was melting, not knowing how to handle what was happening in front of you. "(Y/N). Tell us to stop and we will." Ghost's voice brought you back to the moment. Your eyes went wide and you shook your head frantically. Ghost chuckled and you felt his wet lips behind your ear. "It's alright, hen. We got you."

Ghost's hands made quick work of untucking your shirt from your pants. His hands were cold as they made contact with your stomach causing you to gasp. "I know, pretty girl. I know it's cold." Ghost whispered into your ear and you whined. Soap chuckled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. Your senses were on high alert as Ghost pushed the blankets away from you.

Ghost's grip on your chin held strong as Soap's lips connected with your finally. Your hands flew up to grab his neck, pulling him closer. Ghost held your firm against his chest, watching as you and Soap kissed passionately. Ghost smiled at the two of you, feeling your body jerk slightly against his chest.

Your head was spinning, feeling Soap's hands travel up your legs to grab your thighs. You couldn't tell if your body was shaking because of the cold or because the hands that covered your body. Soap's fingers hooked into your belt loops, lightly tugging at them.

Ghost got the hint and his hands came down to unbuckle your pants. His lips attacked your neck, leaving a bite mark in between your neck and shoulder. The noise you made Ghost's pants tighten. Soap watched as Ghost pushed your shirt up, exposing your stomach and chest. "Please.." You whimpered and Ghost slightly pushed Soap back, silently giving him orders.

"Please what, pet." Ghost asked, looking towards Soap. Your hand grabbed onto Ghost's and Soap's wrists, squeezing tightly. Soap's other hand came up to caress your cheek. "Breath, hen. You're getting worked up again." Soap kissed your cheek a few times and Ghost's hand traveled down your to your neck, squeezing a few times to help ground you.

The two men continued when you gave them a nod. Soap's hands pushed your pants down to expose your legs to the cold. Ghost's lips formed a smile as your thighs squished in between his big ones. Soap rubbed his hands over your thighs to help with the cold, watching as you slowly spread them.

"Treat her right, Sargent." Ghost nodded at Soap, who had a smirk on his face. "Only the best for our sweet girl, L.T." Soap winked up at the man and looked back down at you. Your pupils were blown wide and your hands were grasping desperately at Soap's shirt, tugging at it, silently asking for him to take it off.

He nodded, quickly shrugging it off. Ghost did the same to his and pulled yours off. You felt exposed in front of the two men, being left in your bra and underwear. Soap leaned back to admire you, watching Ghost's hands slip your bra straps off your shoulders. You leaned forward so Ghost could unhook your bra, exposing you even more. Your nipples stood at attention from the cold and Soap leaned down to kiss your chest. His hand moved to cup your warm core and your back arched up against his chest, moaning loudly.

Ghost place gentle kisses up and down your neck as Soap rubbed soft circles over your panties. Your whines became louder, hips bucking against the man's fingers. Ghost grabbed your hips and pinned them back down to the couch, your back pinned firm against his chest again. Soap moved your panties to the side and his cold fingers finally made contact with your cunt causing you to moan louder than before.

Ghost's fingers played with your hard nipples as Soap's fingers rubbed harsh circles into your clit. Your legs shook, head dropping back onto Ghost's shoulder. Soap watched your reaction as he finally inserted a finger deep into your hole. Your eyes squeezed shut and Ghost kissed your head as he watched Soap finger you. He watched your body tense and clench around the Sargent's finger and he added another.

Soap pumped his fingers in and out of you, feeling you clench down tightly around them. Your legs tensed as you felt everything become intense around you. All the touching made your nerves explode. Ghost tweaked your nipple hard and Soap's fingers hit a particularly deep spot in your core. You cried out, feeling your hips lift off the couch. Ghost smiled as your body shook intensely and Soap slowly pumped his fingers a few more times before taking them out.

You opened your eyes and sat up slightly. "What do you say, pet? Soap made you feel so good." Ghost looked at you expectantly and you nodded, turning towards Soap. "Thank you, Sir." Soap smiled before kissing you sweetly. "Very good. Now, how should you repay him?" Ghost asked and you moved forward, pushing Soap against the mountain of blankets.

You moved to mimic the position he was in before and you felt Ghost move behind you. You moved to unbuckle Soap's pants and he raised his hips to help you pull his pants off. You felt a hand behind you pull your panties down to your knees and you looked back at Ghost over your shoulder.

Ghost had a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself as his other hand landed on your ass. You returned your focus back onto Soap and he placed a hand on your head. You smiled at him before pushing his boxers down. You took his hard cock in your hand and smiled up at the man. He watched you closely as you slowly took him in your mouth.

As you took Soap's cock in your mouth, you felt Ghost behind you moved to push his own cock in your dripping cunt. Your eyes went wide at the painful stretch, but it soon turned into pleasure as he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned softly and Soap groaned, head leaning back.

You maintained focus on Soap's cock, bobbing your head in time with Ghost's thrusts. Soap's hand gathered your hair into a ponytail, helping you maintain rhythm. Your hand reached up to jerk the man off using the saliva that had begun to pool at base of his cock. You looked up at him through your lashes as Ghost thrusts became harsher than before.

You pushed back against Ghost, his hands squeezing your hips roughly as Soap's moans got louder as you quickened your pace, his grip on your hair got tighter and forcing you back down on his cock. You gagged a bit before regaining composure, pushing your hips back in time with Ghost's thrusts. Ghost groaned lowly as he felt you clench down on him.

"Fuckin' Christ, doll. Where you want me to finish?" Ghost asked you and you pulled off of Soap's cock. "In me. Please Sir." You looked over your shoulder and Ghost groaned again, nodding. His thrusts became almost violent as you went back to sucking Soap off. You felt completely full; everything around you was on fire. You didn't even register the cold anymore.

You could feel Soap tensing, his thighs clenching as you took all of him deep in your throat. "Fuck. I may not last much longer, L.T. Pretty girl's got me good." He praised, bobbing your head like you were his pretty little toy. Ghost groaned in agreement, his thrust becoming sloppier by the second. "Whenever you want, Johnny. You pleased her well." Ghost gave him the go ahead and Soap focused back on you. Your eyes were like glass, tears welling up but not falling. He could tell that you were becoming cockdrunk and were happy about it.

Ghost watched as Soap pulled your head down into his lap and your lips stretched over the man's cock. He saw the same look in your eyes and felt satisfied that they had treated you well. Your body took everything that had been giving you and more. Ghost reached down to roughly play with your clit and watched as your thighs shook violently.

Your vision went white as you felt an immense amount of pleasure rip through your body. With Soap taking over and Ghost pounding you from behind, the two men used you however they pleased and it warmed you better than any blanket could. Your hands gripped Soap's thighs as his seed soon spilled down your throat after a quick warning on his end. Ghost soon followed, his last thrust harshly rocked you forward into Soap's lap, his seed spilling deep inside your core.

You almost sobbed when he pulled out of you. You wanted that full feeling all of the time; wanted to feel your boys close to you. Soap grabbed you as Ghost grabbed your panties. Soap helped Ghost slip them on and gave your butt a quick pat. Your head dropped to his shoulder as you reached out for Ghost. The man scootched closer to you two and you happily sighed.

"Feel better? All warm and relaxed?" Soap kissed your forehead and you nodded, looking towards Ghost. You stared at the scar on his upper lip and reached out to gently touch it. Ghost grabbed your wrist and gently kissed your fingers, leaving his mask half up. " 'm cold again." You giggled and Ghost rolled his eyes.

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped you up in it as you relaxed against Soap's chest. "Get some sleep, pet. We'll be here when you wake up." Ghost kissed your nose and Soap kissed your cheek. You nodded, eyes already barely open. You felt four hands on you as you slowly began to drift off to sleep.

not as good as i wanted it, but i haven't written poly smut before so i tried <3

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0celesteisthebest0 · 5 months

Text

Floating in Space

Summary: Trapped in an enclosed ship with a stranger you've barely met, what could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 5,099

Pairing: Ezra x female reader (no y/n)

Authors notes: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO @julesonrecord !!!! from your Pedrostories Secret Santa :) I do hope you enjoy this dear friend and I hope your holiday season is calm and peaceful! I had so many ideas going into this and I really am happy with how this turned out so I hope you feel the same way. Thank you for @pedrostories for putting this event together and making this so fun and joyous for everyone involved.

Warnings: Porn with Plot?, face riding, cum eating, P in V, enemies to lovers? (they’re mean to each other and then they aren't), man handling, one bed trope, lots of sci-fi terms, and explicit language

——<><>—<><>——

Vibrancy shimmered through the gem as you angled them in the light. The delicacy of this small piece of pressurized rock always throws you off. How can something so small and insignificant change the course of your life.

Aurelac, a small jewel, so powerful in the Bakhroma system. This power doesn't only extend to one system or even governmental regime, it extends through bargaining between prospectors.

You didn't use that ability too often, afraid that you'd end up stiffed at the end of the exchange. Mostly when you traveled off world your confined yourself to your own little space. Maneuvering yourself out of risky situations was easy when you avoided any sign of prospectors on outer rim planets and you would often choose the emptier planet. Places like the green moon were of no interest to you. Too much variables that you could not predict.

It often lead you to areas just out of that satellites reach, somewhere where the sling back would take days to respond to movements. It wasn't as lush and full of dust as the green but it didn't mean it wasn't any less dangerous.

Especially with moments like these where you didn't have any thick trees covering you or a partner to cover your back. Tension rolled over your shoulders after successfully extracting your final aurelac stone. But you could still feel something over your shoulder, a sensation that made the middle of your shoulders pinched. With moments like these you had to suppress the feelings of flight that your body was pushing on you, to scurry away from any encounter.

So you slowly breathed in and deposited your treasure into a small safe. Shoving the safe into your pack, you looked at your surroundings slowly, checking whether their was someone or something really looking over you.

The barren land stood still as you lifted yourself from the soft soil. Not even the dust of the moons blew for you, it seemed that everything from the voice channels to the sounds of nature was quiet today.

There was always an association with quietness, an inner peace was achieved through silence. But living in a world of deep space, silence was often a suffocating force, pushing a harbinger of disaster and decay.

Only being able to feel your uneasy breathing didn't soothe your nerves. Pacing back to the security of your ship is the only way for this silence to go away, a place where you didn't have to constantly look over your shoulder to be sure someone wasn't there to hurt you.

The large strides did nothing to quell your beating heart, the gusts of hot breath fogged your suit, blurring your vision until all you saw was faded foliage leaking and blending into the colors of the auburn sky.

Crackling of the radio channels connected to the suit overlapped against the harsh steps of your suits boots. Uneasy connection kept fading in and out and you stopped trekking the hill that your ship was landed on, wanting to hear what might've been following you on this far away moon.

Hoping it wasn't a proposition for the gems you just extracted, you turned to knob of your helmet against your better judgement.

The slight turn made an enchanting baritone voice fill the confines of your helmet.

"The gleam of your eyes besiege me my dear, for I have traveled to see beauties and all I see is you. The sky above you has the pleasure to preen and plume under your ethereal glow, oh how Kevva has forsaken me for not guiding me to your loving gaze sooner. "

You stood frozen to your spot, heart racing from much more than a flight or fight response. This has to be a trick against you, a ploy to keep you off your path back to the pug, to the worries of your life that beckon your attention. Yet here you were getting lured by the siren's call of enchantment and passion.

Maybe the loneliness has finally driven you mad, there was no way that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Turning every direction to see whether you were experiencing some delirium from the constant trips you were making to pay of debts and loans you've taken from people on the pug.

In the distance you think you could see a figure going towards you. Backing away, you decided it was best to run from the immediate danger of an unknown entity trying to seduce you into the unknown.

"Run!" The same voice from before echoing a much more grim sentiment. Just one single word sent immediate shivers down your spine and that made your jog turn into a full sprint to the safety of your ship.

Sharp and quickening exhales of shaky breathe was stinging your lungs, the harsh land was crumbling under your boots made the ground uneasy. The following steps made you sink into the floor, your leg getting caught in the underbrush of the dead trees.

Stuck, unable to move, unable to breath without the sting of your lungs hurting your chest. The upcoming danger of what's been following you now has caught you in it'd trap. Your loneliness has officially trapped you.

You did your best to try to pull away from the thick roots but all it did was pull at your ankle.

"Fuck!", You were gasping for air at this point and it didn't matter to you that your voice could be heard from the voice channels.

"While I do appreciate your posthaste following of instructions, I did not mean for your to run and trip." The crackling sounded much closer than it originally did and a heavy weight started to pull at your leg, cutting at the roots of the underbrush. Whoever this predator of the moon was, they were pulling at your arm to try and get you up from your dismay. Your body on instinct turned to dead weight. There was a grunt from your efforts to not get picked up and finally there was a huff heard in your ear.

"Movement is indeed appreciated but it seems to me that you have already accepted a fate that has not been written yet. So I urge you to get up before you truly lack the ability to do so. " His words didn't sound as harsh as his tone came across, so you acted accordingly to his final warning.

"I'd appreciate it if you kept your hands off me," he was helping you, yes, but it meant nothing in the larger schemes of things. Especially since he was the voice from before, this could all be a trap if you aren't careful.

His hands lifted in surrender and slowly inched away from you, despite that he seemed to be constantly looking over his shoulder for something.

"I do believe introductions should come after we move away from this clearing. There is something out there and despite my demeanor I do not take kindly to strangers." The mysterious man started to move up the hill not waiting for you to move with him. With no other choice, you caught up with him, your breath still trying to recuperate itself. "Now where is your ship."

You stopped and turned to him, the worries of before vanishing with that very statement.

"My ship? I'm not letting you on my ship. " You eyed at the stranger, waiting for any movement.

"If it's a death wish you crave, so be it. I have no desire to escape death twice," annoyance tinting his static filled voice. "Make it easier for yourself and give me your starter."

Ever-growing exhaustion stung the muscles of your legs, but you did as you do best and ran.

You could get to the ship before this stranger took your only home away from you.

Pushing yourself to the top of the hill, your battered up ship shined bright in the Bakroma sun. Salvation was only a couple of steps away, you could feel the soft material of your small cot on your skin.

The only skin contact your feeling right now is a harsh shove to the ground by the unwelcomed stranger. His body encompassed yours fully, you could hear him heaving in frustration.

"Now I do appreciate a good chase but I am quite sick of this game." His arms pinned your wrist, his helmet bumping into yours awkwardly. Big brown eyes leered at you, shining brighter than any aurelac gem you've ever seen. You couldn't quite look away from his steely gaze, even if he looked like he wanted you dead.

"This is a sick game you're playing, at sweet talk one minute, larceny the next," it was a ploy you knew it. But you still at least wanted some confirmation that he was doing all this for your treasuries.

His tension lessened at your words and immediately he let go of your wrists.

"Are you seriously, you're just going to let me-" he shushed you and looked towards the distance, way beyond your ship. Vines curling and expanding against the dying environment, with every gust of wind, the vines moved into shapeless lifeforms. The planet breathing into something chaotic and unsightly.

Beings that moved and breathed the planets life twitched and curled the thorny vines in your direction. Slithering to grab and pull you into the very planet, the thought of that made the planet quake underneath you.

No words were exchanged between you two strangers but it was either immediate death or uncomfortable survival. Picking the ladder, you grabbed onto the strangers arms and started tumbling towards your ship.

The vines seemed to grow around you two, almost encapsulating you in it's greenery. Shoving and pushing each other into the little ships door, the vines snapped and tried to pull your bodies closer to it's earth, luckily escaping with a resounding slam of the door.

Sprinting into action was all you could do as you went to the control board of your ships and charted your way back to the pug. The ship hummed to life as you punched your destination and guided the wheel upwards.

Unlike most freeing pushes of air the ship leaks out, the creaking of restraint pushed you into a further frantic state. Increasing the rate of the ignition did nothing to move you anywhere close to the atmosphere, you were at a stand still, no where to go and no ability to move.

Despite the ongoing frustration building in your throat, the stranger once again pushed you from your chair.

"This is a T9-27 I presume, the caliber can out do the resistance of the the creature with just a crank from the- " you knew where he was going with this and immediately tried to stop the ship from imploding within itself. But as your hands were reaching towards his, metallic crushing was making the ship lean against the ground, the past height that reached is now just sinking into the ground.

In a last ditch effort, your pulled on the crank, making the dying engine roar. Emergency signals turned the ships interior a bright and blinking red and white, telling you to stop this plan before it even started. All your craved now was salvation so the words that tumbled out of your mouth were purely from a need to survive.

"Increase the altitude! " you yelled as you scurried off to the other side of the ship, trying to increase the coolants to the engine by twisting and turning knobs in hopes that you wouldn't crash. Thankfully the stranger pushed your ship to its limits and got the sputtering engine to lift itself higher into the stars.

Clunking of the vines still were heard but as you got farther and farther into the cosmos the remnants of the earth seemed to burn up behind you.

Slumping on the floor of your ship, your adrenaline was mixing with your pure exhaustion of the situation. You couldn't really give yourself a moment of peace either since now you are harboring an unwanted stranger in the confines of your ship. Eyeing the man warily, you looked at how he grew comfortable in the seat of your ship. This broad shoulders stretching and leaning to handle the modules controls. Crackling of the ships audio, made you focus on your knew potential predicament.

"Slingbacks operation system is at a halt, no request will be carried out till a full cycle. Thank you for your services and do continue using the slingback." The automated voice rung out through your ship, repeating itself in a constant loop. Getting annoyed with its third repeat, you went up to the main console system and put the channel on mute.

"Well friend, it seems to me we have time to get to know each other. A prospector with a ship is a mighty rich thing to find here in the fringeling. Why aren't you in greener parts, somewhere where aurelac isn't just under the surface? " The questions were a tad to uncomfortable for your taste. Ignoring them seemed like the best option at the moment, so you turned away from him to the little nook you called your room. You needed to get rid of your suit and put something more comfortable on.

Despite your deliberate ignoring of his questions, he still moved towards where you went to letting the ship run on autopilot. Rummaging through your cabinets, you tried to find your crew neck sweater to replace the sweaty clothes underneath the suit.

"I go by Ezra, do you have a name or are you not the talking type? Arguing seems like more of your strong suit if anything but that is simply just an observation on my part. Do you live on this vessel, that is a mighty interesting cot you have their, it has enough room for a guest if you would be so kind." You huffed a little at his insistence to insert himself to the fragile ecosystem that is your ship.

"I have slurry packs that you can have and the bathroom is at your disposal. Everything else is off limits," you stated quite sternly and proceeded to haphazardly take off your suit.

"What hospitality you give so graciously, I must humbly ask if you can spare a blanket for the cold floor, if you so please." His sarcasm was chockful in his statement and you felt like immediate groan slip from your lips.

"I am not going to share my bed with a stranger who is potentially trying to take my treasures from me." You didn't turn towards him as you said your peace, you simply just grabbed an extra blanket and gave it to him. "Now excuse me, I have to change. "

Ezra's movements were slow, but his words didn't seem to match his pace.

"This loneliness must kill you. Spending all these cycles alone without a companion. It makes sense to your harsh attitude towards someone who was trying to help." That alone set you off.

"Please, you act as if you know every little thing about me. How can I have a companion if their is no trust between prospectors. Of course I'm not going to have faith in you, all the encounters I've had with people on the fringe range from trying to kill me or trying to steal from me." This time you turned around, you had to face him headfirst to show him you meant business. "Especially with that stunt you were trying to pull before the planet started attacking us, I have every right not to trust you!"

Ezra's lips twisted, he finally had nothing to retort back at you, his brows seemed to furrow at your implication that he tried to trick you in some way. Huffing at his lack of response you grabbed your clothes and wondered to the bathroom to see if you could change in peace without a constant presence surrounding you.

A quick slip in and out of clothing, you tucked the sweat filled clothes in the tiny hamper you left in the room. Unease filled your stomach as you turned to the door out of the restroom. Wishing you had a moment alone again was all you hoped for but the stars above you were often cruel forces. So you pushed yourself out, trying to not make eye contact with Ezra. His chatter returned once you made it into his field of vision though and he seamed to want to continue your previous argument.

"I pulled no stunt on you to get to your ship or your treasures. I needed refuge from the thing that was calling out there. If anything I was lured into your trap, you were calling my name for help and stupidly I followed. " You scrunched your face in confusion what does he mean that you pulled him into a trap?

"I never called for help. You were the one practically flirting with me through the channel, getting me distracted!" You poked at his chest, noticing that he took off his suit and remained in a simple black tank top and trousers. A single tan arm caught your attention, there were scars from his prospecting adventures but his most prominent scar seemed to be replaced with a metallic arm.

"You seem distracted right now," he grinned at you, enjoying the long looks at his body. "Care to share what my imposter said to get you off your course?"

"It was nothing. Quite frankly it was unimportant if you weren't the one saying it. " If Ezra wasn't the one saying it than who was?

"Well it is mighty important to me if it got the two of us stuck in this situation, so why not divulge me in my curiosity and tell me what I didn't say?" He moved closer to you, slightly crowding your space, you were close enough to notice his crescent moon scar.

Trying to brush aside any feelings from before, you wanted to figure out the potential mystery of what attacked you both on the lonely moon. Ezra seemed more entranced by the idea of teasing you for whatever reason, but it is becoming distracting to say the least.

"Please, I think it's strange that the planet was able to interfere with the radio so easily maybe it could-" Your thoughts were caught off with the flickering off lights going one again but instead of the red from the overheating the counsels lights were flickering. "Fuck no!"

Removing yourself from Ezra's presence you ran to the main counsel to see what was going on and if your hasty decision to survive was the reason for your ships slow decline of disuse. The blinking monitor sent a message signaling that the temperature of the ship was going to shut down from the lack of coolant.

Sighing into your hands you have officially wished this day would be over, everything that could go wrong has happened. Footsteps of Ezra moved slowly close to you, his warm hand clasped over your shoulder and tried to soothe your fried nerves.

"If the only issue is temperature changes, we'll be able to survive with shared warmth." His statement lingered in the air and for what you've had to deal with today, the idea of being surrounded by another person's warm body sounds peaceful.

"I do only have one cot so if you have any objections with close proximity- "

"I have no qualms sweet star, now I only hope that you aren't mortified with having to share a space with a stranger." He eyed you, trying to see whether or not your previous feelings still carried weight because of revelations you have made or necessary circumstances that have occurred.

"As long as you aren't trying to take my aurelac or my ship again, then I won't bite." You promised him, a little uneasy about what possibly this could mean to you in the long run.

Ezra didn't seem phased by your acceptance, he just smiled a little wider and pulled your body closer to his. Warmth engulfing you like it never has before, Ezra maneuvering you to your small dwelling. Effortlessly he pulled your body so that it is snug against his, chest against chest, your eyes meeting his blown pupils that twinkled similar to the precious stone that you've extracted not long ago.

"I must say, whatever my imposter said to you couldn't have been so scandalous that you proceeded to fight with me any second you could get. So what was it that lead you to a rage with me, a complete stranger who came to your aid, " his hands roamed your back, exploring the new found touch that was previously limited to pushing you away.

"I didn't realize you were so touchy," his movements stilted a bit, now hesitant by any move.

"I can stop-"

"No-please don't. I just didn't expect it." His exploratory movements continued and the wall of distrust seemed to flicker. You know nothing about him, if he is true to his word or just blowing hot air and you could lie and tell yourself that this is all for your survival. The lowering temperatures can cause you both to freeze to death but it wouldn't be immediate. Yet you were here cuddled against a man whose warm body and broad arms seem to engulf any movement you made.

"You do not answer questions well do you?" He hummed, hands seemingly fixated on the small of your back.

"I don't answer questions that don't interest me," you stated plainly, letting your own hands wander against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against your fingertips.

"Interesting philosophy, yet painfully fixated only on your perspective." You scoffed, his long lashes batted at you innocently as if he wasn't telling you that you were stuck on how you view things. " All I wonder is what the planet could've said to you to make our paths meet is all then I will shut my mouth and let you float away into sweet dreams."

Sleeping in such a warm and comfortable state seemed like a dream in itself, being embraced while drifting away was becoming more and more possible by the minute and Ezra wasn't too keen is stopping you. Yet the looming question still seems to circle his mind, maybe as a gift to him you'll just tell him what got you sidetracked and distracted.

"You-well the planet, it used your voice to call me pretty in a rather poetic way. Nothing scandalous just that," his eyes swooped down at your features, lingering on your lips until he met your eyes again.

"It was right, you are quite an ethereal beauty, there is no shame in admitting you were distracted by that." His calloused hand moved from your back to your face, tilting your chin up so he could see you in the muted light of your room. "Your beauty distracts, and I simply must devour it whole."

His kiss was searing, warmth that you felt from your fingertips to your center. Engulfing matter, devouring what it wanted from you and how you yearned for it to eat you up. Strangled gasps and groans shared between the two of you increased with the pressures and weight of each kiss. Incessant hands pull your body on top of his, slightly grinding against his groaning length.

Your whining elicits ad guttural groan from him and he began to babble on about something, hips pushing against yours.

"Ez-ra" your choked out moan stopped his blistering kisses, but it didn't stop his motor mouth from spewing everything that his mind supplied him.

"A treasure beyond the stars, I need to taste you, I need you rutting against my mouth until your begging and whining for me to stop. Fuck I need to know how you taste against my lips, something so sweet- " he trailed off, slowly losing himself with the feeling of you against him. Both you and him are too painfully touch starved to function.

The hand that isn't fixed on your hips, moves upwards to your stomach than to your breasts. His metallic hand cooling the bubbling heat that he created, kneading and pulling at your sensitive nipples. The shock of temperatures made you shiver and heave for more.

"Take off your clothes and ride my face sweet thing. I don't want to be able to talk because your beautiful cunt is stopping me from speaking." His hands reached for your shirt, taking it off swiftly same with your bra. Desperation growing between you, as you tried to pull his shirt off of him to feel more of his skin against yours. " Sweetness I need you naked first, you could have me however you like in a moment. "

Whining at the thought of taking him however you'd like, you complied with his request and started to strip yourself of any remaining clothes. Wetness leaked onto your inner thighs as you displayed yourself to him. His eyes grew darker and he instantly pulled your thighs to his face. His statement from before becoming a reality now as you hover over his face not wanting to crush him.

Ezra instantly did not care if you suffocated him or not and pulled your hips directly to his face and quickly started to lick up the wetness that started to gather around your opening. Your moans of surprise only seemed to spur him on and his tongue started the lap with more vigor. Eating you out nice and slowly was not his plan, he wanted to devour your whole being and you craved it. Craved it so much you started to grind against his face, needing mores simulation on your clit.

Whimpering a little from a need of more simulation you moved your hand away from the support of the cot and started to rub circles against your sloppy wet clit. Gasping at the added stimulation, the coiling feeling of pleasures expanding was ready to burst and Ezra seemed to notice with your unsteady thrusts. His hand reached for yours and held it to your hip. Then he started sucking on your clit with force, his only goal to make you come hard on his face.

Shakiness of your thighs and legs were signaling how close you were, how much you needed this and with a particularly harsh suck on your clit, your legs and thighs spasmed with release. Bright burst of lights flooded your senses, shimmering and lengthened by Ezra's insistent need to drink you fully.

Teetering on the edge of over stimulation Ezra flipped your slumped body firmly on the cot. Your tired back hit the familiarity of your cot and you instinctively reach out for him. You needed his warm skin against yours, anchoring you to the present where he touched you and made you feel worshiped.

Ezra stripped himself of his clothes and let your arms loop against his neck, his has fitting against your neck where he safely murmured his wants and needs to you. His plump lips sucking on the tender flesh of your neck making your hoarse voice cry out for him, needing him in any form he'd give himself to you. You just needed him.

"Need you inside-please," you moaned, hoping he'd fuck you so hard that you wouldn't have to think of the nauseating horror of the world outside your little bubble.

"Fuck-sweetheart, I'm a lot bigger than your used to. I gotta prep you so it doesn't hurt." You whined at that, you want him to be frantic just like before, not at all careful. Looking at what he meant by that you eyes his weeping tip, precum smearing down his cock. Drool escaped your lips at he beauty of him and you needed him inside you even more now.

"Please- you can go slow and fuck the tip in only," your fingers reached to your entrance, spreading them wide so he can see how bad you need it. Ezra couldn't help but whimper at the sight of you and finally tapped his shaft against your slightly overstimulated clit making you moan in the process. He slowly gathered the wetness, not quite going inside your entrance but tapping the tip on it.

Pumping his cock, you couldn't help but clench at the noise he made. He smiled at how shameless you've become in such short hours and he started to slowly insert the tip of his dick inside of you. He was following the instructions to a T and only fucking his fat tip in you, making you get used to the width before getting any more length in you.

You couldn't help but start to get antsy, you wanted everything now, you started to become greedy and your inhibitions continued to dissipate. You begged for more, tearing up because you weren't full of him yet.

"I thought you just wanted the tip sweetheart," Ezra teased, his previous frantic exterior has been reeled in just so he could tease your for being so needy. "You gotta ask nicely, be a good girl and tell me what you want. "

At this point your mind was swimming and begging for more pleasure, it wanted to drown in everything Ezra has to offer.

"Please I want-fuckk…I want you to fuck me, make me feel full." You tried to pull him closer but he stopped you in your tracks. Instead he slowly pushed himself inch by inch until he pulled himself out and start the process again. At this point you were drooling and the feeling of him going so deep only to feel empty again was killing you.

Ezra's teasing finally stopped once he pushed himself fully inside of you and started moving at that harsh pace. Wet noises and high moans fill the rooms as Ezra's pace continues to fold you in two. Slapping of skin and sweaty bodies overtake your senses and with the onslaught of his brutal pace your body tumbles into another orgasm before you can even register what the sensations you were feeling. Darkness covers your visions and after you clench around him he soon follows, coming inside you leaving you warm, the threat of cooling temperatures doesn't even feel possible anymore since you and Ezra have joined together as one.

Slowly and softly you felt like you faded into the vastness of the cosmos. You might be floating in the deep vacuum of space but you are tethered to a force that echoes and craves you.

It seems like you were stuck with Ezra and frankly you were more than okay with that.

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x f!reader #smut #my fanfiction

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